Tag: Andy Anderson

1944 May 12 “Well, it’s a small world”

 

5/11/44:  The Americans and British begin their fourth major assault on Monte Cassino.

5/12/44 Italy V-Mail

Hi Snooks:

I shall try to fill this one up single spaced.  When I write every day, like I have been, there isn’t too much to say.  Today I got five letters from you, which sure did help.  I haven’t had one from you for some time.  The change in address is finally clicking and I should have no more delays.

I shall answer your letters in order.  Burt will get his letter, although I don’t think I owe him one.  Maybe he figures 1 visit is worth the ten letters he owes me.  Well, I guess that is right.  Alice and Eddie sound interesting.  I shall enjoy meeting them.  The gifts for the Gozland’s sound swell.  It may have been $50, but it would have cost me $200 for my leave.  Honey, when people are rationed the way the people in Africa are, and yet take you in and feed four off of a ration of three, money or gifts can’t repay it.  On top of that, their hospitality is a thing of record proportions.  I am sure that the gifts will be loved, for even if I only sent them a couple of handkerchiefs, they would enjoy it.  But the value of things from the states over here is past all comprehension.  The same things would cost anywhere from $300 to $1000 here!  Thanks for taking such pains.  Someday you’ll meet them, and see what I mean.

So you like the brooch and bracelet!  Honey, I don’t particularly like cameos, but those appealed to me and are supposed to be pretty good.  The whole business was made from materials which I assembled and furnished, and was not “store bought.”  The black dress sounds purty.  Personally, I prefer dark purple slips—or do you remember?  The coral necklace (have you gotten the bracelet to match it yet?) should be along with an unmounted cameo I sent about the same time & should also go well with the black dress. Boy, would I like to have you in that outfit to parade around the officers club tonight.

What the hell did Nena do now?  Or is it too long to write?

Say, I got a letter from Betty Hitchcock today and she is home on leave.  Why not call her up some night, as you will certainly enjoy her.  Address is:

E.F. Hitchock, 8368 Waterman Ave., St. Louis, Mo.

Also got one from Helen Paetz Phillips.  That’s another little gal that you would really get along with.  On account of you, she still remains the only girl I ever dated and couldn’t kiss.  She had just gotten a letter from you when she wrote.

I’ll bet you can’t guess who I saw yesterday?  Andy Anderson, my instructor at Brooks.  Gosh, it was good, he hasn’t changed a bit, and I as most flattered to find that he had spent a good deal of time trying to locate me over here.  Things are tough all over.  He is a Major, and was a 1st Lt. when I first met him!  Actually, I was glad I was only a Major, for I wouldn’t have felt at all comfortable any other way.  He remembered the whole flight (stroud, sorensone, starbuck, and stacher) and remarked that he never had a screwier bunch of students in his whole career.  Well, it’s a small world.  And I did fill the page.

Honey, you just about the sweetest little thing I can think of, and one of these bright years I’m going to get sent home for good.  Bob Paul sends regards.

All my love, Cy.

 

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1944 July 1 “[K]eep on sending those morale maintaining letters”

7/1/44 V-Mail, Italy

Hello:

And is the Mrs. Cyrus B Stafford this hot as hell night?  In about six hours you [will] be at the same point of the day I now am.  There is very little breeze, and it is so hot the tar on the streets flows like water.

I have just returned from a hour’s walk nella campagna, dopo pranzo—a walk in the country after dinner.  I’m afraid I’m a country boy at heart, for nothing seems to sooth me quite so much as to walk through an olive grove or vineyard.  Even tramping over the wheat stubble is restful.  Tonight I made the mistake of walking downwind.  I approached a dead horse without knowing it, and then walked in the wind wafted stench for some minutes.  Fortunately, the old schnozlle is no better than it used to be.

Today I learned that the sq co’s in the old outfit made Lt-Col.  They were 1st looies when I came overseas.  Darling, I don’t know what is the matter with me, but I don’t seem to be getting anyplace.  The whole world can’t be wrong.  God damn it, any job they’ve given me I’ve done well and everyone admits it, and yet all I get for reward is my self respect.  That is hard to maintain when everyone passes you up.  Well, maybe the best deal is to swallow my pride and concentrate on learning as much as I can in the Army, and then becoming a grade A civilian on the day the thing is over.  I like the Army and Army life, but I’ll be damned if I can see through some of the things which seem so unfair.  I ran into Andy Anderson, my instructor at Advanced a couple of weeks back and he is still a major.  He was a first with three years foreign service when I was in the school.  People who were a couple of classes ahead of him are now generals!  The only mistake he made was tending to his own business and not blowing his own horn.  Well, piss on it.

Tomorrow I start to work with another bunch of people in the same section but different location.  My job is about as clearly defined as a [country] cook’s recipe for biscuits—a pinch of salt, about so much flour, and a few dibs of shortening.  I am told to cooperate with our noble allies but to be sure to get the best of them.  It doesn’t make sense.  I’m seriously tempted to crawl on the band-wagon and become a British lover, as that seems to be [the] way to get along.  There may be a reason for that, for I am alive today because of the tactics the British taught me.  That makes quite a bond of friendship.  I don’t worry about it while it is happening, but I sure do appreciate someone saving my life after it has happened.

After I get settled I may have some money to send home.  My Cairo trip was quite expensive, but well worth it.  Down there a piastre goes like a penny, only it is worth four of them.

Today they finally decided to let us wear ties only if we wanted to.  It is a definite improvement.  Now if they’d get smart and authorize shorts and short sleeves we would be almost as smart as his majesty’s troops.

Well, toots, that’s about it.  I can’t think of anything nice to talk about but my loving you a little bit—a little bit more than I can stand from 6000 miles.  Be a good baby and keep on sending those morale maintaining letters.  You’d be surprised how much it helps.                                    Cy

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