Spitball Army

Retired, she now works afternoons at a hardware store, wheelchair-bound behind a register, emergency pennies tucked in her vest.

For some, a job is a stage for creating melodramas that make their home lives seem palatable. For the rest of us, it’s a living.

[Letter postmarked on 3 August 1941 at 11:30 p.m. at Greensburg, Pennsylvania.  Addressed to Miss Crystal K., Berwyn, Ilinois.  Return addressed to George B., Greensburg, Pennsylvania.]

Greensburg, Pa.
August 3, 1941

Crystal:

                I was planning on taking a few days leave soon, but then the outfit is having a Rodeo on August 30^th, and I may just wait until after that date before requesting a leave of absence.  However, a fellow never knows where he is going to be two days hence, so don’t be surprised if I should see you to-morrow.

                I haven’t decided where I will go for a few days leave, and I don’t think there would be any use going out your way as there isn’t any special attraction out there for me, not since all your time has been taken up by that new Gentleman who comes around your house every day.  Not when you’re away, either.

                You must have had a wonderful time on your trip out West.  I often think of taking a trip like that, but I reckon I will need more than 15 days to do it in.  Maybe someday I will take my 20 days all at once rodeo, traveland take a real nice trip.

                How is your Mother; and how is your Dad?  And your nice Grand-Mother?

                You’re really nice people, and I want you to know that I think so.  I felt as though I really knew you people for a long time when I first saw you all at West Point.

                Do you ride the horses much, and how is your blonde friend Katherine or Kathleen? (Please don’t tell her, but I believe that I am not sure of her name.  Will you please tell me in your next letter?)

                I have not been home since Easter, so I believe that I owe the folks a visit as they look forward to our visits, that is, Tony and me.  Dad and Mother are growing old, so I don’t want to neglect making every visit that I can, so that some day I won’t have memories that might trouble me, if I live.  They’ve been good to me, and I don’t want to be ungrateful.  So, I reckon that if you don’t see me around Berwyn, I will probably be up in good old Shawnee (Plymouth’s old name).

                Anyway, you never sent me your photograph, and all I have is that little snap-shot which, I must admit, I had to steal from you.  On it, I reckon, you are about 12 years old, maybe 14; just a little chippie, but you’re nice, very nice.

                I’m glad that you received an increase in salary, and that you like your job – you must be a happy girl; anyway, I wish that you are happy in everything that you do and that you are a credit to your parents.

Sincerely,
                George.

(photo: spitballarmy.com)

Seen in Moody, Alabama, next to the Food Giant.

Card is titled: “Aw-w-w- Quit ‘chur quackin’, You voted for him!”

Publishing information: “LAFF-GRAM / Baxtone, Box 175, Amarillo, Texas.  Made in U.S.A.”

“May I help you?” The old woman shuts her eyes, drops her head in sleep. Her friend hands me a 40W bulb: “Her lights are too dim.”

[Letter postmarked on 15 July 1941 at 10 a.m. at Riverside, Illinois.  Addressed to Miss Crystal K., Marshalltown, Iowa, c/o Mrs. P.  Return addressed to Mr. Richard N., Riverside, Illinois.]

July 14

     Up at 8:00, airport at 9:00. I’m putting the finishing touches on, Hon. I’m flying that crate like a bird. My instructor has given me permission to solo tomorrow and I’m just the one to do it. As I have said previously, the thrill will be almost as good as one of your kisses, but they still don’t compare.

     Back to the office and I spent some of the afternoon looking up my new lawn mower. (It finally came.) School this evening and another test – a doozy, too. On the way home, I stopped and met Mack and Chester at the Bonnet and had one glass of beer and then home.

     Oh good, a letter and a card from my honey. I’m glad you enjoyed the rodeo. I know I would have. Why didn’t you pick yourself up one of those cowpunchers? Or did you? I should have been there to show them how to rope a steer and bulldog it – eh, Hon? You may not have been able to travel fast but the scenery was pretty. Being as how you like storms, you should be having fun. Give my regards to your folks and say hello for mine, please. Tell your mother to take care of that cold. Honey, that week will never pass for me.

     Well, Hon, I think I kept a pretty good account of myself, don’t you? I tried to make the letter worth waiting for. I haven’t much else to say except take good care of yourself. Nothing to ask except think of me. Have you kept your promise, honey? I hope you have. I have, never once over 50 M.P.H. I will close by saying, I love you, Honey, and hope you still love me, too.

     Your own, Richard
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The Tokyo residents begin migrating to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, fleeing the threat of nuclear fallout under a cloud of cruel irony.

The Green Line runs under financial Boston; the Red Line pierces academia’s heart. There’s no Yellow here: no timidity or caution.

[Letter postmarked on 15 July 1941 at 10 a.m. at Riverside, Illinois.  Addressed to Miss Crystal K., Marshalltown, Iowa, c/o Mrs. P.  Return addressed to Mr. Richard N., Riverside, Illinois.]

July 13

     Well, to-day I slept to noon because I had nothing else better to do. Then I called Jerry about 12:30 and at two o’clock he and I were on the boat. He was wishing he had a date and I was wishing you were next to me in the place of Jerry. We had been tearing around. I hadn’t been on the boat since last Sunday when I lost my surfboard. Darn!! HE@L!

     Hon, I have a choice bit of news for you now. We were riding by the Yacht Club Bohemia and guess what? You couldn’t – or could you? I saw a Chinese red stop red Pontiac convertible. I wonder whose it was – oh yeah! Had you been with me, I would have looked him up. As it was, I paid it no attention.

     Yes, I got your card to-day. I’ll bet the scenery is beautiful.

     I piled in bed about midnight and laid awake thinking of you. After not seeing you for over a week, it was really bad. The first time in six months, you know. I couldn’t imagine what I was going to do the next week. Finally, I fell asleep.

     (I love you, Hon) xxxxxxxxxx