Saturday, February 28, 1942

Fort McArts, Belfast Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

My Sweet Vivienne

I have just received your letter of the 14^th, (they are sending some of our mail by airplane I think) I was so happy to hear that you are going to be a Nurse. I think you would make a fine Nurse and our need has never been greater. I also feel that it is a suitable career for a woman. I’m not sure I like all of this talk about women having to work in factories. I know we are in dire straits, but it just seems such a great sacrifice to give up our way of life. Hopefully this war will not last long and we can return to normal soon.

I have some good news, the school children he in Belfast have been collecting books to give to the servicemen. The books were really meant to go to the Brits but the children were nice enough to let us rummage threw the bins and take what we wanted. I found an old copy of “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, that has always been a favorite of mine. I also received an Austrian book by a Vicki Baum, “Menschen Im Hotel, (People in a Hotel) I have never heard of the book before, but it was banned in Germany, so I thought it would be interesting to see what it is that Hitler does not want his people to read.

We wake early each morning and go for a run into town and back, followed with a large breakfast. Lots of pork and potatoes, but not enough eggs, but there is plenty eat and I am grateful for that. The rest of the day is spent either in guard duty or in training. They rarely give us any free time. The officers tell us that we must be ready for battle at a moments notice, and we train as if combat is imminent, but I don’t think it is, but still we train. We are learning a lot about combat, I hope I will never have need of this knowledge. Maybe they know something we do not. I must say that I do enjoy the running, it gives me time to think, but it is dreadfully cold here.

When I run I think mostly of home and the people there that I miss, you especially. I am almost glad that my parents have pasted. I would hate to think of what they would be going through with me over here, so far away. They would worry, like I am sure you do, but don’t, worry is an evil thing that does no good to anyone. I am safe enough for now, the only threat I face is boredom, and being overworked.

I think they will let us have a night off this week, and we are planning to go into town to a local pub we have all heard about. I have met a few fine fellows the past few weeks. We could all use a bit of fun.

I am tired.

Love

Jack

Friday, February 20, 1942

Fort McArts, Belfast Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

My Sweet Vivienne

I was so thrilled at Mail Call this morning. They called my name and I have a whole stack of letters from you! I am even wearing the scarf you sent me around my neck. I am taking a lot of ribbing for that but I don’t care.

I have only had a short time to read the letters, and really want to read them all again and again. But I have guard duty tonight, and have to prepare for that now. This is my first time “On Guard” and I am a bit nervous, not of the Nazi’s, but of falling asleep on duty. It’s all a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure whom I am guarding against, but it is good practice for when things really get going over here.

There is really not a lot to report from over here, we are not suppose to write anything in letters that could help the Germans. I think I have half a day off on Sunday and I am planning on going into town with some buddies to look around. Maybe by then I’ll have more exciting new to tell.

I have been thinking about you a lot. I miss you greatly; it’s hard on me going for days on end without hearing from you. I know you get busy taking care of everyone else, but I wonder who is taking care of you. I can’t be there to look after you, and I don’t think that you would willingly except my help anyway, knowing how stubborn and independent you can be at times. But Vivienne, listen to me, it would do you a world of good to rely of those willing to give you help. I feel sure you are having a rough time of it; so much must have changed since I left. Lean on Pam, she will help you and you can help her, take a chance and trust her, trust her for your own good. You may find that trusting someone, even if you are fearful, has rewards that you never imagined existed. You do not have to be alone in this.

My Sweet Vivienne, I worry about you so.

Love
Jack

Thursday, February 19, 1942

Fort McArts, Belfast Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

Vivienne

I arrived in Belfast in the early morning hours on Tuesday; we were all tired and weary from our long journey and in a most foul mood. But we are glad to be off of the ship and on dry land. I have seen very little of Belfast as of yet. I hope that we will receive some leave time and I can sightsee a little. But for now we are very busy, we are relieving a regiment of Brits. We will guard Ireland while they head off to North Africa to do some real fighting.

Most of our time has been spent moving into our barracks, and unloading our equipment. The only weapon I get to use here in Ireland is a broom. Our barracks is an old brick warehouse that looks a hundred years old, it’s cold and drafty. But it is heated by these huge coal fired iron stoves that sit in the middle of the huge room. It’s blazing hot near them and cold nearer the walls. Only a few of the bunks are in the middle where the temperature is comfortable, so most of us are either burning up or, like myself, cold.

I was very disappointed that no letters from you have reached me here. But it was just wishful thinking on my part that they would get here so soon. I’m sure you have written like you promised, but I shall just have to try to patient. But you know that is not one my strong suits.

Love

Jack

Sunday Night, February 15, 1942

At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

I wish we were together so that we could talk. I need someone to share this horrible day with. I do hate to burden you with my troubles but the death of Charlie Applewhite has upset me deeply. You have always been the only person that I could turn to when I was troubled, and now you are not here. But writing helps me think and maybe I can find some solace in this exercise.

I feel very guilty for being upset over this, I knew this kind of tragedy would happen, and it is likely to only become more frequent. What have I lost I ask myself? Even though I liked Charlie a good deal, I had only known him for a week, and when we landed, for all I know we could have been split up and I would never have seen him again. But his family was expecting to see him again and now they never will. They have lost a son and a brother, and what have I lost? Yet I feel sad and overwhelmed. I am truly ashamed of myself. I have pity for my small loss, when I should think of the greater loss of his family.

They don’t waste time these Navy guys, this afternoon they had a quick funeral for Charlie, and sent his body to the bottom of the ocean. It was nicely done and almost everyone not on duty turned out. Our Corporal asked me to gather Charlie’s personal effects, as we share a locker. There was little of note there to send back to his family except for a photo of Charlie, face beaming with pleasure, standing with his family, in full uniform. Charlie is the only one that looks happy, I guess he is standing with his parents and two brother and two sisters. The date on the back is December 1941, this must have been taken when Charlie was just out of Basic Training.

It affected me badly holding that photograph and thinking of Charlie’s family never seeing him again. I would like to write them a letter and tell them of how Charlie was so well liked, but I think it would be an intrusion upon their grief. And I think I only want to write them to make myself feel better, and I am disappointed in myself for being so selfish.

I wish you where here to help me with this, you always know the right course is such matters. But again I am thinking only of myself and I know that is wrong.

How are doing? Tell me what you do to stay busy; I’m sure your momma makes sure you stay that way. How is your father? Tell him I asked about him. Have you heard word of my family? I have not received a letter from them since before I left New York.

I hope that we will arrive at our destination soon, I am growing weary of insides of this great steel monster. I hope to receive mail soon, and I will send all that I have written as soon as I can. I miss your dearly.

Love
Jack

Sunday February 15, 1942

At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

It is Sunday morning here, wherever hear is, and I am glad to report that I am feeling much better. I have my Sea Legs, and my appetite is strong. I have just returned from church, I have a picture of you in my Bible that I am using as a bookmark, it will be safe there and the two things that I love the most can be together. Our church or mess hall as it is called most of the week was packed with men. I suspect that some of these men have not been to church in years and that only the fear of death brings them here now. I wish the love of God was the motivator, but I guess coming to God is what is important and not how you get there.

I am afraid that I can not tell you much about the sermon, my mind was drifting back to all of the times we sat in church together listening to Reverend Hamilton preach, I’m afraid that some times I didn’t listen to him either, my mind being on you. I should have more self-control I know, but you occupy my thoughts so. Even now I think about you often. We have not seen the German Navy, not even one single U-Boat, but we drill constantly for an attack. I suspect that the Navy guys just like to keep us busy, as I don’t see how anything that we do will mitigate any damage the Germans may inflict upon us. But all most of these men can talk about is the impending doom of war, to me it is but a vague threat in the future, where as your memory is strong and I can feel you presents with me when I read you letter and touch your scarf. So for now the future is only filled with thoughts of you and the time we had together. I am sure that at some point soon the War will intrude and make it otherwise.

I have met a nice man here on ship, he is Charlie Applewhite from Kentucky, he is a young farmer, and is happy as a child at Christmas to be here. He tells me that living on a farm is to dull for a smart guy like him. I’m sure his family misses him greatly, but he seems to be having the time of his life. He is a hoot to be around and he brings a smile to all of our faces whenever we are blue.

I must end here, time for another drill soon I suspect. I will write again soon.

Love
Jack

P.S.

I had to take this letter out of the sealed envelope to write this post script, I need to write this down while I could. During the drill it was Charlie’s turn to live fire, as the call it, one of the anti-aircraft guns. You may have seen pictures these large machine guns mounted to the decks of ships. Charlie was having the time of his life firing at the factious German Air force, when the bolt jammed and a round exploded in the chamber of the gun, sending the whole of the bolt into Charlie’s face, I will not describe to you the horror that I saw, but Charlie was fortunate that he did not live long. What will they tell his family?

Thursday, February 12, 1942
At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

I had hoped to write sooner but I have been sick this entire week. As you know I have never been on a body of water bigger than a farm pond. But being in the belly of this great gray monster is more than my stomach can endure. The odor down here is horrible; I am surrounded by the smell of vomit and sweat. They let us go top side as often as they can, but the wind is bitter and biting, as I do not have a suitable winter coat. So I either have to endure the cold or the cramped and crowded compartments below.

But despite it all our spirits are high and we are eager to get off of this ship and do something useful. You would laugh if you could see my bunk. Our bunks are the most ungodly contraption, we are stacked six high. The rig is held up with chains and hangs from the ceiling, so that it sways a little with the sea. But the most amusing thing is that we have just 18 inches between us. If I roll over I hit the man above me. It’s not very comfortable, but does makes for a lot of funny off color jokes.

I never imagined that I could be so lonely in such a crowded place. Even with all of these other men packed in here with me, I feel as if I am all by myself. I guess it is because I yearn for your company rather than all of these strangers. I have not made any friends yet, you know that I am shy and don’t easily get on with new people. For the moment I am content to be by myself and think about when we may be together, I hope it is soon, but I am not hopeful.

I wish I felt like writing more, but I am still a bit weak from not eating. I am happy to report that the Navy feeds us well, but I have not had the desire to eat. But I am on the mend and will soon be feeling well I am sure, I will pen another letter soon.

I miss you dearly and look forward to your next letter, the sent on your previous letter is fading a bit, but I can still smell your sweetness upon the paper.

Love
Jack

Monday, February 9, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

We have just been told that we are to leave for Europe within the hour; I wish I could say more, but I don’t even know the name of our ship or where our finial destination will be. I am filled with trepidation about what this journey will bring. Rumors are that the Jerry’s are sinking a lot of troop transports. I really didn’t want to tell you that but you always asked that I be honest with you, I hope this does not change your mind. But you have always been strong and I thought it better that you know.

I will write from the ship, but I don’t know when I can post them, it may be weeks before you hear from me again.

This doesn’t seem as much as an adventure as it did a few weeks ago. But no matter what comes I will keep thinking of the day when we are together once again. I miss you so. If only I could have a farewell kiss on the docks and wave to you from the ships railing, one last goodbye.

With everlasting Love

Jack

Sunday February 8, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

The letter smelled just as I remember you smelling. It reminded me of the time you and I sat on your mom’s front porch under that thick scratchy wool blanket. I was surprised that she let us sit so close together with our hands out of sight. You were so warm under that blanket on that cold December afternoon. I wish I was still on the porch with you. My desire for you is so strong that I dare not speak it aloud; maybe the distance between us will give us strength.

I didn’t know the name of the perfume; I hope to see Paris some day soon, I hope you would be with me. Maybe after this war we can travel to Paris, would you like to see Paris? Do you have family there?

I hardly know where to start in describing New York City, it is both wonderful and evil. The buildings are so tall that you nearly fall over backwards looking for the top of them. And the bridges are long and tall and made of iron and steel, not wood like at home. But the people seem rude and in a hurry, except when I am in uniform, they are very nice to the servicemen. But it’s still not like home.

My bunkmate Charlie Applewhite, from Decater Georgia, and I, along with a bunch of other fellows went out for a night on the town. We went to Broadway and were going to watch one of those shows, but we ended up going to a nightclub. They had jazz music and lots of hard liquor, and women that all paid us much attention. Some of the other fellows had been here before and seem to have a bit of fun at my expense. They thought that it was amusing that these women seem to care a great deal for me and I thought that they were extraordinary friendly. But I soon learned that they really just wanted to take my money either by getting a free drink or threw more lascivious means. You know I am not a naive person, but I never thought that I would see women selling themselves in such an open manner. It was shameful. I was…..well I better not say more about the matter. Suffice it to say New York City, is both beautiful and ugly.

I do not know when we will leave, they just keep saying soon, so I will write as often as I can before we board ship. I keep smelling your letter and thinking of your warmth, I hope the smell does not fade soon, it’s is one of the few tangible things I have of you.

Love always
Jack

Firday, February 6, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

I can’t express what parting from you means to me. The last few days with you were an unimaginable joy, and it is with deep regret that I must part now from you. It seems that our great creator is testing us by showing us our greatest desire then snatching them away. I hope you feel as I do. I am troubled by the time we may spend apart and what it will do to our memories of what we have so recently shared. This will truly be a test.

But I must tell you that I am excited at last to being able to strike a blow for the USA, and help our friends in England. The news here is dark. But that is all I can say, as our Sergeant has made it clear that loose talk will do nothing but help the German and Italians.

New York is a grand place, but I have seen little of it except for Grand Central Station and the barracks here at the marshaling yard. I hear that we will get on one of those big gray ships here any day and sail off to Europe! What an adventure! I look forward to seeing some of this world, knowing only what I have read is our local newspaper and in National Geographic.

But the world is a large place and the grander the sight I will see will only remind me of your beauty.

I must hurry now for the post is about to close and I do not know when I will be able to write again. This is my last piece of writing paper and I don’t know where I am to get more supplies.

With Love
Jack