Trumbull, Conn., July 9, 1944
My dearest son:
And of course that means YOU. I have been sitting here in sort of a trance trying to think of something interesting to write to you. The fact of the matter is I am all written out. I have been owing so many letters for so long that this afternoon, in spite of the muggy heat (perhaps because of it and my disinclination to do any “sweating” work) I decided to put procrastination to flight and catch up on some of my back correspondence, knowing from experience that if I wrote you boys first I would have neither time nor inclination to write to others. In consequence, I have just finished letters to the Larry Peabody’s, the Kemper Peabody’s, the New York Peabody’s, Elsie, Red Sirene, Barbara Plumb, and Sylvia Ward – Campbell, mostly about you boys, your locations and your doings.
Jean (Mrs. Richard) Guion
Another week has passed without word from Ced or Dick. Jean says as to the latter she is kidding herself trying to imagine the failure to hear from Dick lies in the fact that he is on his way home, he having written some weeks ago that there was a 50-50 chance that sometime during July he would be shipped back to the states. As to Ced, my natural optimism tells me that no news is good news, that he is still a civilian, that he has burned down no more Anchorage fixtures, and that he is quite well and busy. I just wish he’d get a little busier to the tune of a postal at least telling me he has successfully passed his pilot’s examination, or something. I have not had a chance yet to grow anxious about Dan, having received a letter from him last week. My oldest and youngest, however, have each come through with welcome letters, which I shall now share with you.
Dave writes he is back in camp “safe and sound in one dilapidated piece. The train I came down on was the dirtiest train I’ve ever been on. Leaving St.
Dave Guion
Louis for the last leg of my journey, I got myself in a comfortable position and fell asleep. The next thing I knew the conductor was shaking me and asking for my ticket. He took one look at it and calmly said: “We just left Neosho, you should have gotten off there.” Boy! I had visions of dragging my bags behind me into the orderly room sometime this morning. Then I thought of OCS and the CO putting through my application for OSC before I even got started. But, thanks to that lock that’s been following me all the way, I made good connections back to Neosho, got into bed about 2 AM, reported first thing this morning and no questions asked.”
Lad and Marian
Old Sgt. A.P. says: “it seems that “D” day for me is getting closer. Sometime this month the 142nd is being transferred to some camp in the East, but when or where I don’t know. It looks as though I will have to go by train, so Marian may drive East in the Buick if there is any cause for it and if she can get someone to go with her. Right now the 3019th is doing some work in Camp Haan which is similar to what we did at Pomona before I left for my furlough. It appears that we did such a good job at Haan before we went out to the desert that the Col. at Haan called us back from the desert and we spent only one week out there instead of two. For that I’m very thankful and we did get a chance to see Death Valley. It was rather an uneventful trip and we had very little trouble. We were to return from Death Valley to the desert but instead we returned to Haan and began work immediately. We have until July 6th to finish the work there. After that I don’t know what we will do. We’ve been having a rather hot spell here. In fact the day before yesterday it was 115° in the shade (You had me fooled for a minute, Lad, as your degree mark was rather large and low down and looked at first glance like 1150 which would lead one very naturally to not quibble if you had said it was as hot as hell). Out on the desert we didn’t mind the heat because it was so dry, but it is a little more moist here and is quite warm for Marian – – lots warmer than in South Pasadena”. And Marian adds: “Maybe we’ll be seeing you again very soon. This Army life is anything but settleing.”
So, that leaves some interesting conjectures. In fact life these days is just full of what I said for every last one of you and when I get you all home again, I am thinking of putting in a series of balls and chains in the celler with big padlocks on them so I can keep you all fastened down for a spell.
Well, Dan, the US government has just sent me a notice that as one of your dependents I am to receive $15 a month hereafter from your regular pay. Do you want me to
Daniel Beck Guion – (Dan)
invest this for you in some more stocks, put it in the B & L or just let it accumulate in the bank? I am wondering if you ever received the four or five packages of soap and toilet articles and Kleenex that I sent? And Lad, did you get your camera yet? And Ced, did you receive the Buick parts and the filter and the subscription to Reader’s Digest? And Dave, I will try to get a box of cigars (they are getting scarce, no more boxes of a5 are available) and shall send them as soon as I hear what kind you prefer or some idea if what you want to pay, along with your necktie and leggins. And if you can pick up for me at the PX a hydraulic jack, a large size bottle of eau de quinine hair tonic (any make) and a package of razor blades it will keep me quiet for a while. I hope the notebook fillers I sent for your friend arrived safely and were what he wanted. I forgot to ask you about them when you were home.
I understand Jean (Hughes) is coming home very soon to be ready to increase the population of Trumbull and that Jane (Mantle) is also pointing in that direction, if you know what I mean.
Along the line of an interesting news, just to fill up the page, I spent several hours yesterday substituting for a stoker and shoveling an estimated 3 1/2 tons of buckwheat coal from one side of my coal bin to the other, as the moronic or just sheer lazy coal deliveryman neglected to put up any boards to confine the coal from rushing out of the exit hatch into the celler and practically buried the stoker. My muscles were somewhat sore when I got through and I looked like something from south of the Mason and Dixon line, but I finished the job and took quiet satisfaction from the thought that there was some life in the old boy yet, and if the worst came to the worst and you young fry couldn’t put Hitler’s legions in their place and they had to call on us has-beens I could come through in fairly good shape, although I don’t think I’d choose a stoker’s job.
Well, let’s call it a day and hope next week I’ll be in better mental shape to write you a really interesting letter. Meantime, lots of love and good luck, from
DAD
Tomorrow, I’ll be posting a letter from Rusty to Ced and a postcard from Arnold in Hawaii to Anchorage. On Friday I’ll post a letter from Marian to Grandpa about the latest developments in the lives of Lad and Marian.
Judy Guion
"Greatest Generation" Life Lessons 