Tag: WACS

1944 April 27 It is a small world

4/27/44 Italy  V-mail

Hi Honey:

What a nice life.  If you were here, everything would be rosy.  Although there is a certain amount of griping about the liquor situation, the stuff over here is about as good as I’ve had since I left the states.  The stuff I’ve been drinking in the past couple of months wasn’t fit to pour down the latrine.  Over here, you can drink it even after smelling it.

It is a small world.  A couple of days ago I found a Major Zeaman in HQ something or other.  He is from Riverside, and is engaged to Dorothea Flansburg’s little sister.  That seemed like quite a coincidence.  This morning I was looking at some poop on telephone switchboards with a Lt. Creutz of the Section.  I remarked that it was very much like the one in Glen Ellyn.  He asked me where, and I repeated it.  You can imagine our mutual surprise at finding that he had charge of the office there in 1934-6!  I’ve forgotten the name of the girl he married, but she was a couple of classes behind me in high school.  If you go up there this summer, I’ll get her name and address and you can look her up.*

It seems like years since I was in the 47th, putting up with the fine grade of horse manure which the big time operators used to put out.  The tactical units of our air forces have expanded too fast, and the result is not good.  I guess I am in a position to criticize, having done about as much tactical work as anyone I can think of off hand, at least of HQ people.  After a while, when the war is a little older, many of these situations will improve.  But it is a painful process.

I wouldn’t be surprised if in about 6 months to a year I would be able to promote a 30 day leave back there.  Don’t expect me until you see me, but it is possible.  Right now, I’m trying to promote a trip someplace to attend a school on some rather interesting communications problems.  Among other things even if I don’t get anything out of the school, I shall probably see a new part of the Mediterranean and will further the thing I call an education.   I should be a rather well qualified man for some sort of airlines communications job.  That may be the outlet for foreign service for which I have been looking.

They finally got smart over here and stopped the officers from dating enlisted WACS.  I’m glad it happened before I got into a HQ with WACS in it.  The men and officers got pretty well mixed up socially dating the same girls.  Now the WACS are for G.I.’s only, which is a break all around.  Although I have 45 of them in the section, I haven’t seen but one, and have nil to do with any of them.

Phooey.  Bottom of the page.  When I come home, be sure and pick out an apartment with pretty ceilings.  You’ll see a lot of them.

All my love, Angel,   Cy.

*I believe this is the obituary for William Creutz’ wife, Eleanor:

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/nwherald/obituary.aspx?page=lifestory&pid=165053431

 

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1944 May 9 The use of WACS leaves soldiers with little to do

5/9/44 Italy V-Mail

Hi Darling:

Things are tough all over.  Here I sit writing a letter on a good typewriter with not more than one chance in several billion of being bombed, strafed, etc.  Now if that is the case here, you can imagine how safe it must be with most of the people, for I am relatively far forward.  When you get down to facts, about a negligible percent of the people in this war have to put up with anything more disconcerting than inconvenience. Even the actual combat is not what it used to be.  In many cases, it has stabilized to a slugging match.  When the war is over, you can discount ninety percent of the stories you hear about violent war, for the number of men witnessing same is negligible.  According to the poop in one of the magazines, the loss of life in England is still greater from auto accidents than it has been for all British troops during the same period.*

The bathing suit came and is swell.  In fact, I like it about as well as any I have ever had.  Thank heaven I’ve lost my pot belly!

“Lula Bell,” our WAC PFC, is sitting on the other side of the office sewing some stripes on a field jacket for one of the soldiers.  About a month ago they stopped officers from dating enlisted wacs (unless married or engaged), which was a swell idea.  It gives the G.I. a chance—for a change.  The girls are doing a well job, although I can’t see that they are necessary.  All it does is relieve a lot of soldiers from their duties, but they stay on the same staff.  Result, lots of soldiers with little or nothing to do. **

Just between us kids, I still love the hell out of you.  Your own brat, Cy.

*Editor’s note:  I tend to think Cy likes to exaggerate from time to time so I checked on the actual numbers.  The United Kingdom had 383,700 killed in all of WWII.  Auto accidents were averaging about 9000 per year.  Over six years, this would mean about 54,000 were killed in car accidents—hardly equivalent.

**For more information on the Women’s Army Corps see: https://history.army.mil/brochures/WAC/WAC.HTM

 

 

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1944 May 29 I refused to be a “big time operator”

5/29/44 (Original letter from Cy to Leo Huntoon, father of Cy’s best friend Johny Huntoon)

5/29/44 V-Mail, Italy

Hi Snooky:

How are you?  Being a good girl?  Damn it, I sure do wish I could be there so you wouldn’t have to.

My finger is now out of the bandage, but still sort of purple, and I don’t feel, quite up to pounding the typewriter with it.

The “Mademoiselle” arrived, but I may have to ask you get another one.  In a moment of weakness, thinking the Wacs out in the switchboard room and teletype room might be interested, I sent it out there for the balance of the afternoon.  Now I find that it is in the Wackery, and god only knows what’s left of it.  Morale is up a hell of a lot.  It is probably harder on a girl to wear the same clothes year in and year out than it is on a man.  And I’m ready to admit it would feel nice to walk down the street in civilian clothes once again.

I hope the picture album you sent gets here by the time I get back from school as I have a whole drawerful of the things that need mounting.  Nancy wrote a nice letter thanking me for the pin, and enclosing a pic of you in a swim suit.  Gosh, you’re sure tanned nicely.  My face and hands are tanned, but that is all that gets exposed.  Maybe I can pick up a little tan swimming in Cairo.  That school I mentioned is all set, and I shall leave day after tomorrow.  I’m afraid mail from there will be slow, and I won’t have an American APO where I’m going, so I might have trouble mailing letters.

I saw Nickerson, who used to be in the service group at S’vah last night.  He is a major now and doing a rather nice job.  No mail from you for days.

All my love, Cy.

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