Saturday · Feb. 13, 1943
Snug as a bug in a rug.
Snow on the hills, rum in the dugout, and a shot at captain.
Feb 13, 1943
My Darling Wife
Two days nearly without an opportunity to write to you. They have kept me busy—and the weather has been unpleasant. Two days ago it rained & blew like hell. All the hills & mts around us were covered with snow. After that I moved into my foxhole—sleeping bag and all. With a shelterhalf over the top, I’m snug as a bug in a rug 3½ feet underground—no water gets in.
Mail is supposed to come in tonight—but rumor has it that it only consists of packages. However I have my fingers crossed—and I’m hoping for a lot.
The other staff officer S-3, which calls for a captain, was transferred yesterday, and temporarily I am to fill his job—at least perform part of his duties. Under the present arrangement one of the senior captains usually gets the job. However the Colonel indicates that the idea may be disregarded and I might just possibly get the job permanently. It would mean good experience …
… in any event, and it happens that I’m the senior 1st Lt in the Bn anyhow—so perchance I might be made a captain. Who knows? I don’t especially care and I would just as leave finish the war a first Lt. That way I don’t have the responsibility of determining life and death for my men.
For some reason, the present diet has been helping my gums. The biscuits made my gums bleed for several days, but now they hardly bleed even when I really scrub my teeth. Here’s hoping that means they are getting better.
I’ve collected a few interesting items of enemy ammunition—disarmed—which I am going to bring home if I can—for ashtrays. They look pretty neat.
Freddie moved out before I could see him. I hope he gets a good rest—and maybe he’ll get some letters thru.
We have a swell dugout about 6x6x6 with a good top. All the officers meet down under …
… and shoot the breeze. Last night we passed around a quart of British issue rum. It was wonderful stuff and warmed us up. Our first drink in several weeks.
“Oh how I miss you, tonight”! My nightly theme song. It’s brutal to be way over here and to know you have a wonderful wife back home that you can’t see and be with. I know I have the best wife in the world and I’m hoping to be with her soon. Who knows, maybe the Russians will make it possible. I hope my little princess is behaving herself. I know she’s getting the best care in the world.
It’s almost dark so will close.
All my love
Your
John
About this letter
Three pages in pencil, two days after a storm left snow on the hills around him.
THE S-3The battalion’s operations officer, a captain’s job. John, the senior first lieutenant, was filling in.
“OH HOW I MISS YOU TONIGHT”A popular 1925 song. He calls it his nightly theme song.
READING CLOSELY
“That way I don’t have the responsibility of determining life and death for my men.” On why he would just as soon finish the war a first lieutenant.
“The Colonel” here is his battalion commander, a lieutenant colonel.
His gums: the trench mouth of his December letters.
He did make captain in 1943; he signs “Capt.” by July.
The Big Picture
Two Axis armies
By February the Allies faced two Axis armies in Tunisia. Gen. Hans-Jürgen von Arnim’s Fifth Panzer Army (panzer means armored) held the north. Rommel’s army, chased across Libya by the British Eighth Army, fell back to the Mareth Line, a row of French forts in southern Tunisia. It got there Feb. 15.
The Allied front ran through the mountains in three sectors: British, French and American. Rommel feared an Allied push through those mountains could cut his army’s supply line from Tunis.
Where he was
Central Tunisia, at the front. He later recalled his 3rd Battalion on a blocking mission in the Ousseltia Valley, where the 16th Infantry held the north end of the line.
In this letter. The next morning, Feb. 14, German tanks struck American troops at Sidi Bou Zid, about 65 miles to the south, opening the battle that ended at Kasserine Pass.