30: Off Again On Maneuvers.

Sunday night
(August 1, 1943)[1]

Dear Girls,

Hi—we’re off again on maneuvers—this time regimental, on the move for two whole weeks, sleeping and eating where we happen to land. It won’t be exactly restful, especially since I’m going to be company executive officer. The Captain is an umpire. Harry Reynolds is company commander. Good except that the exec has a lot of responsibilities & duties in the field; doesn’t do much in the barracks but has to operate the command post in the field–run the walkie-talkies, phones, sick bay etc.

Remember Harry, Mother–the big boy from Mount Vernon, NY? He’s my roommate since Ed, and I didn’t know him very well before. Now I like him a hell of a lot, he really is a prince. You’ll have to meet him when we get back, Gretch.

But he’s only one of my roommates. The other is Bing–a Great Dane! The mascot of Company A. We decided that A Company had to outdo them all in mascots as well as anything else, and by golly we did. He is tremendous, a lot of trouble, and eats enough beef for a couple of lions, but he’s worth it. A mascot means a lot to an outfit. Only trouble is we’re going to have a hell of a time smuggling him aboard ship.

Had a real good time last weekend, but am not going out this weekend, nor next. She turned out to be a very nice girl, quite the best yet though that statement doesn’t exactly bury her in bouquets. Strong on looks, weak on personality.[2] Hit most of the nightclubs in LA Sat. night, then hitch-hiked out to the zoo. Good idea, but there were moments–have you ever seen lions do it? Embarrassing, but quite an icebreaker!

And coming back in Capt. Schechter’s car late Sun. night, I realized one of the ambitions of my life. We plundered a full orange grove by moonlight; the acrid smell of the crushed orange peel, the boughs heavy with globes of pale sweet sunshine–wonderful place, this California.

I haven’t been near a radio shop while it was open yet, but I’m going to make a stab at it–I know how you must miss it, especially in the dog days. Haven’t seen any yet, but I will. And I do need the watch, Mother–no repairs, gotta have it back in as soon as I can.

Got a sudden yen the other night to see Bill again–what is his address, Gretch?[3] Oh, and send me the magazine–thought that was marvelous about Emmy, and a riot in the telling.

All love,


[1] Assuming that this letter follows the one dated 20 July 1943, August 1 would be the Sunday after Phil’s most recent date, referenced below.
[2] Presumably the girl from Pomona College referenced earlier.
[3] Bill Timmis.

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