Spitball Army

[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana.  Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif.  Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 20 Feb 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Feb. 15, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     Well, here we go.  I’m off on another letter.  I have a big sheet of paper, I’m writting fairly small, and I have nothing in particular to say.  What will be the outcome?  We’ll see, in another few hours.

     Here it is Thursday morning and I only have one thing to do.  One piece of work, I mean.  I worked last night till after nine getting my work done.  Boy, am I glad I did.  I had five different reports and things to write up and hand in this morning.  I did four of them last night and handed them in this morning.  I got them in just in time.  I wasn’t back in the tent very long until it starts pouring down rain.  It’s still doing a pretty good job of raining.  The fifth report isn’t written up yet.  I have to wait until I get the company commander’s O.K. on it before I do any more work on it.  As yet, he hasn’t ventured out into the rain yet this morning.  All the other officers just came down so maybe he’ll be here soon.  When I get the O.K., I’ll have to leave you for a while and get it fixed up.

     Well, Sweetheart, I didn’t get very far, did I?  He came down, I fixed up the report, and here I am.  Time has passed, I’m afraid.  The next chance I had to write was yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t feel like it.  You’ll get this letter just as soon Sweetheart.  In either case it wouldn’t be censored until tomorrow.  Confusing, isn’t it?  Well, I get guess I could be a little more clear.  You see, this is Sunday.  No mail goes out today.  Mail is picked up at 8:00 in the morning 6 days a week.

     This letter writting business isn’t doing so good.  I don’t get it.  The time just seems to fly by too fast for me.  I write to 2 people. – you and the folks.  I write them every Sunday and you know what you get.  I try to write to you every other day, Sweetheart.  Sometimes it does not work.  But there are at least 2 a week.

     You know how much money we have in the bank, Sweetheart and you know how much it costs you to live.  So you decide about the silverware.  We are going to have it one of the days.  You decide whether it will be now or later.

     I love you Sweetheart.  Didn’t you recommend that I see “Marriage is a Private Affair.”  Well, I say [sic] it the first of last week.  That was quite a picture.  They had their troubles but everything turned out all right in the end.  That’s the way it is with us Sweetheart.  I just hope that most of our troubles along that line are over with.  I’ve had enough of these family troubles.  I‘ll know we’ll be happy in the end just as they were.  We’ll probably have a lot of fights and trouble between now and the end, but everything will turn out all right.  I love you Sweetheart.  You are the only one for me.  I’m waiting over here and I know you’ll be waiting back there.  Don’t ever break that trust I have in you Sweetheart.  I love you with all my heart.  Everything will turn out for the best.  The biggest job is for me to get back to you.  Sweetheart, if it is humanly possible, I’ll be there.  I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can.  Then we can live our lives together.  Just you and me Sweetheart, as we should.  You are what I’m living for, Sweetheart.  You be there waiting and I’ll get back to you, Sweetheart.  I have to.  I love you Sweetheart.

     Goodnight Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart
               Pleasant Dreams
                    ‘Nite Sweetheart

                         I love you

A series of short clips from Marriage is a Private Affair (1944), starring Lana Turner:

A sack of onions, a block of cheese, and no bowls in the kitchen. She slumps on the floor et elle pleure les larmes salées.

Text on front of postcard:

WHAT!  YOU NEVER KISSED ANY GIRL BEFORE?

THEN YOU BEAT IT!

YOU ARE NOT GONNA PRACTICE ON ME.

The word GIRL is crossed through with pencil, and the word ‘Boy’ is written underneath it.

The card has been posted with a 2 cent stamp, and was postmarked at Stanley, Wisconsin on 18 June 1918 at 11 AM.  Postcard is addressed to Miss Gladys Wild, Route 1, Amherst, Wisconsin.

Text of written message on back of postcard:

Hello Helen I am sorry I am not there to help gather the eggs that the ugly chicken laid.  Well I got the dusting and sweeping done this afternoon – “Oh I’m so tired.” – That cushion you gave us to take along worked fine.  We arrived here at Stanley’s Hotel at 8.45 no thanks I’ve had enough ice cream for a while can I have the next one step – don’t forget the (4) fourth of July  from Bill

Approximate playing time: 76 minutes.

1. Pat Metheny  “Above the Treetops”  (1992)
2. Joni Mitchell  “The Arrangement”  (1970)
3. Swing Out Sister  “Somewhere in the World”  (1997)
4. The Police  “Shadows in the Rain”  (1980)
5. De La Soul  “Itsoweezee (Hot)”  (1996)
6. Olu Dara  “Your Lips”  (1998)
7. Al Green  “Driving Wheel”  (1971)
8. Lea DeLaria  “Been Caught Stealing”  (2005)
9. Coyle & Sharpe  “Sandor 21”  (1965)
10. Digable Planets  “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)”  (1992)
11. The Isley Brothers  “That Lady (Part 1)”  (1973)
12. Q-Tip  “ManWomanBoogie”  (2008)
13. Elvis Costello  “B Movie”  (1980)
14. Freedy Johnston  “I’m Not Hypnotized”  (1997)
15. Doves  “Some Cities”  (2005)
16. Love  “You I’ll Be Following”  (1966)
17. Daniel Wylie  “I Wouldn’t Lie”  (2006)
18. Sondre Lerche  “On and Off Again”  (2002)
19. Ben Vaughn  “Daddy Rollin’ in Your Arms”  (1993)
20. The Soundtrack of Our Lives  “Impact & Egos”  (1998)

[audio:Fred_FM_playlist_071110.mp3]
Fred FM playlist (11 July 2010)

Some notes on the songs:

• I understand that to some it is an extreme sacrilege to even attempt a cover of a Jane’s Addiction song, but this one works.  And, even though I’m no fan of the Lea DeLaria schtick, there is a time and a place for everything.  I’m thinking that these four minutes of “Been Caught Stealing” are her time and place.
• I know nearly nothing about current hip hop or rap, but I love the old skool stuff (De La Soul, etc.).  You’ll never see Ima Kanye on a Fred FM playlist.
• Coyle & Sharpe were wonderfully warped, improvisatory comedians, maybe you’d call them performance artists.  I love the “Sandor 21” bit.  If I could get paid for doing this sort of thing, I would do so without hesitation.

[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana.  Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif.  Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 14 Feb 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Feb. 12, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     I’m pretty tired tonight.  It’s not from work, I was just doing something I wasn’t accostomed to.  I went to see about getting and another pair of glasses.  I was at the Medical Bn. this morning at 6:45.  Then they just messed around for almost an hour.  Then the boat ride and we were at the hospital by 10.  I had some more waiting for the next hour and a half.  After I saw I wouldn’t see the doctor before chow, I started looking for Mundell.  I didn’t have a bit of trouble finding him.  I went over to the chief’s mess and waited till he came in.  I got a good meal out of it.  What a change!  He practically lives in heaven compared to this.  We talked for an hour.  He had to go to work and I had my consultation at 1 o’clock.  We were so late getting back here that I almost missed chow.  I’m supposed to go back Saturday and get my glasses.  He told me to look him up when I came back.  Don’t worry, I will.  I don’t need a second invitation to eat that kind of chow.

     I’m about ready to hit the sack, Sweetheart.  Can’t be done just yet though, can it?  I haven’t even told you that I love you and I haven’t wished you a happy birthday yet.  You’re an inbetween, a misfit.  I love you though.  I guess you can’t help being a little slow.  While everybody else has a birthday once a year, you have to be different.  I guess that’s one of the reasons I love you so much, Sweetheart.  You are different.  I want only you Sweetheart.  No one could ever take your place in my heart.  I hope you have a happy birthday.  I know what you are going to say.  I don’t want you to have complete happiness without me, either.  I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it this year, Sweetheart.  I’ll just write my wish and it will have to do for a while.  Can’t do anything else about it.  Just think of me and don’t forget that I am deeply in love with you, Sweetheart.  You are what I am living for and what I will be fighting for one of these days.  All I want is you Sweetheart.  You be there waiting and I’ll do everything in my power to get back to you – as soon as possible and in one piece.  Have fun Sweetheart.  Enjoy yourself as much as you can.  You know what I wouldn’t like for you to do, and I think you know what I would like for you to do.  I want you to have all the happiness in the world Sweetheart.  Happy Birthday – – – – Happy Birthday to my wife, the sweetest woman in the world.  You are my world, Sweetheart.  I love you.

     Good-night Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart.
               Pleast Dreams & a Happy Birthday.
                    ‘Nite Sweetheart

                                                  ‘Nite

So there I was, sitting at the red light at the intersection of Valley Avenue and Green Springs Highway, windows down in the post-work late afternoon in an attempt to circulate the stale hot air to the outside.  On the corner, not twenty feet away from me, a black fellow wearing not-as-black shorts, a baseball cap and a bright orange t-shirt was having at it.  White wires dangled from his earbuds toward the mp3 player on his belt, and he was physically responding to whatever music they were channelling.  His legs were kicking up in the air and, with both hands, he was twirling a vibrant, matching orange sign touting Little Caesar’s $5 pizza special.  With a vengeance.  I thought it the perfect opportunity for a cell phone photograph or two.

I took one.  A little too far away, I thought, as I inspected it.  Then the cell phone alerted me that the picture couldn’t be saved because there was not any space left in storage.  I hurriedly pulled up a list of the pictures in the phone, hoping to delete a few needless ones before the light turned green.  I was too slow.

Later, reviewing the pictures stored in the BlackBerry, I noticed a geometric similarity among several of the shots.  Here they are, removed to a new home, just in case I see that high-kicking dervish on the corner of Green Springs and Valley again.

Uncleared table at Waffle House (18 April 2010):

(BlackBerry photo: spitballarmy.com)

Random video image from home (8 April 2010):

(BlackBerry photo: spitballarmy.com)

Bread shelves at Publix on snow day (6 January 2010):

(BlackBerry photo: spitballarmy.com)

Backyard vegetable garden (6 June 2010):

(BlackBerry photo: spitballarmy.com)

I’ve slid syringes into oranges. I inject saline into my cat daily. But when the nurse pulls the needle on me, I turn away in fear.

[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana.  Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif.  Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 12 Feb 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Feb. 9, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     Well, this is another one of those times.  I want to write, but I don’t have anything to write about.  I went to the show that I was telling you about in my last letter.  It was “Abroad with Two Yanks” with William Bendix.  It was a very good show, not much plot but plenty of comedy.

     I’m rather hundry [sic] right now.  It started raining last night just before mid-night and it is still drizzling.  Very nice sleeping, I just couldn’t force myself to get up.  Claude brought me a cup of coffee.  I don’t know whether I’ve ever mentioned him before or not.  Anyway, we sleep in the same tent.  The last name is D—– and he’s from Pa.  He’s a good guy even if he is a music.  As a civilian, he played the drums.  Then, much against his wishes when he got in the Corps, he was made a buglar.  He doesn’t like the idea but he can’t get out.  He’s been trying to get away from being a buglar ever since he started to field music school.  Try as he may though, he can’t get out.  He tried to come over-seas as an infantryman.  Anything to get away from the bugle.  But – they sent him over as he asked, only the bugle stuck with him.  I think he has just about given up the idea of getting out of it now.  Just to give you some idea of his personality, he is a lot like “Mo.”  You remember him from school, don’t you?  Surely you remember when he, Louise, you and I saw “Yankee Doodle Boy” (or something like that) with James Cagney at the Lafayette.  We sat in the front row ans almost broke our necks watching the pictures.  I’ve received one letter from him since I’ve been over here.  Did I tell you about it?  Anyway – as soon as he gets back from Europe, he going to marry this girl from Texas, he says.  Then, they are so supposed to come back to Purdue.  I hope they do.  We could get together again and I know we would have fun.  That is un unless Mo has changed a lot since I last saw and heard from him.

     I don’t have much time left, Sweetheart.  So – I’ll tell you one thing and give you 2 things to think about.  I love you Sweetheart.  Nine months ago today, I think that was proved.  Also, less than a year ago, you were very disappointed: – No roses.  Do you know now what is really on my mind?  What I want to tell but can’t seem to?  I’ll try again though.  Don’t worry about that.

     Goodnight Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart.
               Pleasant Dreams
                    ‘Nite Sweetheart

James Cagney, as George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942), demonstrates the proper way to descend a staircase:

A bird, wings spread, hides face-down in the tall grass, apparent victim of a bad landing. Wild onions sprout from its still body.

Postcard is untitled on the front.

Printed on back of postcard:

2256 – NEAR THE TOP OF TRAIL RIDGE, ROCY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK, COLORADO

Publishing information:  “C.T. Art-Colortone,” Sanborn Souvenir Co., Denver, Colo.