Monday, February 16, 2009

Mud, Mud, Mud

May 10, 1943

Dear Mother,

Oh mud mud every where and all the shines did vanish. Thank goodness it finally stopped raining.

We're back again to the dear ol' barracks. They finally looked good this time, and I'm not kidding anybody. Cold and wet that is putting it mildly. There wasn't a dry place on the vehicle or on us. Then the wind came up and our wet clothes and shoes felt like ice. Our hands were so cold that the fellows couldn't even light a cigarette. They used two packages of matches to light one cigarette. We rode nine hours in the rain that day then got up at two that night and rode eight more hours without any breakfast.

You asked in your letter how much time I got, well according to all information I got they were going to give us ten days. The announcement came out that they had cut that time down ten days leaving exactly 0 days. Not only that but we don't get weekends off unless things change. We worked Saturday and Sunday. After Saturday night that work Sunday was a rough deal cause I was ahurtin.

I don't suppose all you guys could come out here this month over a weekend. I doubt if it would be possible to get gas just to drive out for a visit.

Tell Dad to forget I said anything about getting the car if we go into the field this summer I don't think I'll need it.


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