Wednesday · Dec. 30, 1942
I can’t write a book every day.
But he nearly did the night before.
Dec 30, 1942
My Darling Wife.
I have been doing my noble deed in writing letters. I have written to everyone except Carl & Madge—& Grandmother. I’m all worn out.—and then come up to my daily letter to you.
No more mail has come in yet. Perhaps some will come in tonight. I’m still sweating out all those packages.
New Years Eve we are having a Regimental Party—just like the last dance I wrote you about. I don’t know how this one will turn out but I’ll let you know when I get back
The latest newsmagazines have been coming in and we take great interest in the pictures of war throughout the world. I can hardly wait for the newspress of Nov 9th–19th. They should be interesting …
… reading. The pictures on pages 36 of Life for Dec 7. were especially interesting because they showed snaps of North Africa. I don’t think I would like being in the Solomons. The pictures of that terrain is enough to scare anyone out.
It’s really chilly today and my feet are cold & wet—but we are getting used to that. It’s a strange thing—but when we were all wet and sleeping out in the open, there were no colds. Now that we are in barracks the colds are commencing
Tonight we have Turkey—with Cranberry sauce. I bought the cranberry sauce on a boat—so now I can enjoy my dinner.
I wrote so much to you last night that I can’t think of much to write about today. I hope you won’t mind, but I can’t …
… write a book every day.
Every now and then we hear rumors that they are going to send cadres of officers back to the states to train new outfits in light of their experience. It would be too much to hope for but I have one chance in several hundred of getting such a job if it comes up. The boat ride is risky, but worth the chance to get home—now, it’s all wishful thinking but, so is the automobile when I get to New York after the war is over. Who knows.
I miss you honey and am always hoping for anything that will get me back to you. I want to love you to death and tell you all the nice things I have had to write.
All my love
Your John
About this letter
The last letter of 1942, written in pencil. John has caught up on his mail, found cranberry sauce on a boat, and heard that some officers may be sent home to train new units.
CADRESA cadre is a core group of experienced men used to build a new unit. The rumor gave every officer a long-shot hope of going home.
READING CLOSELY
“I miss you honey and am always hoping for anything that will get me back to you.” He wouldn’t get home until 1945.
On Dec. 27 he complained there was no cranberry sauce. He bought it off a ship.
Life magazine’s Dec. 7, 1942 issue had photographs from North Africa and the Solomon Islands.
“The automobile when I get to New York” was Ginny’s plan to buy a car and drive home after the war.
The Big Picture
A hard Christmas
On Christmas Eve, Admiral Darlan was shot dead in Algiers by a Frenchman opposed to Vichy. Darlan had made the deal that brought French forces over to the Allies. On Dec. 27, Gen. Henri Giraud was named to replace him.
The same day Darlan died, Eisenhower called off the attack on Tunis. On Christmas Day the Germans retook Longstop Hill. Mud would stop any new attack in the north for about two months.
The race for Tunis was lost. But Hitler was now sending troops and planes to Tunisia that he needed elsewhere.
Where he was
Near Oran, Algeria, now on the 3rd Battalion staff as intelligence officer (S-2). The 1st Division was still training around Oran while British, American and French troops held a line in the hills west of Tunis, more than 500 miles to the east.
In this letter. Rumors that veterans would be sent home as cadres to train new divisions ran through every unit. He stayed with the 1st Division to the end of the war.