Spitball Army

I lend him the new book before I even read it. He returns it quickly: underlined, highlighted, dog-eared. “Consider it a gift,” I tell him.

[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 30 Jan 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Jan. 28, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     I’ll have to admit I have been trying to put this off.  I can’t put it off any longer however.  It is now almost 9 o’clock Sunday night.  You see, any letters that are written after 8 o’clock Saturday morning are not censored and mailed until Monday morning.  I almost always have at least one letter to you in that mail; and as I say, I’ve put it off until now.  I’ve told you before that it’s getting harder each time for me to find something to say.  This weekend I’ve been waiting for an inspiration.  There just doesn’t seem to be such a thing though.  I can’t think of a darn thing to say.

     I went to the show last night – “To Have and Have Not.”  I’m not sure, but I think that was the name of it.  Humphry Bogart played the lead.  It was a very good show.

     I received 2 packages from Frankfort yesterday.  There was one from my Father-in-law and one from my wife.  In case you didn’t know, I love my wife very much.  She’s everything to me.  The flash-light came though O.K.  It serves the purpose very good.  I christened it last night.  I guess I should say “baptized.”  It rained during the show.  No damage done however.  I had my raincoat with me.  The canned-goods were put to good use.  They furnished me with 2 meals to-day.  I certainly do appreciate the cigars.  I can’t remember which box they were in, but I’m thanking somebody for them.  When I’m not too lazy, those nuts sure taste good.  The only trouble is that I have to get them out of the shell before I can eat them.  They are about ½ gone now.

     Well, I just happened to think of something you could send me.  I have a locker-box but no lock.  I don’t know how things are back there; but if you could find a lock and a couple of keys, I could put them to good use.  I’d rather not have a combination lock if you have any choice.

     That’s all for tonight, Sweetheart.  I’m waiting just as anxiously as you are.  I love you.

     Good-night Sweetheart
          I love you with all my heart
               Pleasant Dreams
                         ‘Nite

An iconic scene from To Have and Have Not (1944):

An iron spray trellis for roses; an iron arch for hyacinth vines; iron resistance at the gym; marshalling an iron will at lunch.

Postcard is untitled on the front.  Postmark on the back of the card is Aug 14 1958, PM, marked in Denver, Colo.

Printed on the back of the card:

159 – SIXTEENTH ST. AND DOWNTOWN BUSINESS SECTION IN DENVER, COLORADO
Denver, the mile high city, is the metropolis of the Rocky Mountain Empire.

Publishing information:  Sanborn Souvenir Co., Denver, Colo.

Text of written message on back of card:

8/13/58

We were enjoying being here, till I got message today saying Valney worse & leaving for Houston to Cancer Clinic, Thursday, so we are cutting our stay shorter.  Will be home Sunday.  I will go on to Houston if operation necessary.  Say a prayer for Valney.  Love Maible

Additional message written on front of postcard:

Call Nell & Virgil for me, and tell them about V.  I am so distressed can hardly write –

Addressed to:  Mrs. T.L. Dallas, 2004 $ixth Ave., Fort Worth 10, Texas.
[Dollar sign, as handwritten.]

Happy Father’s Day, whatever that means to you.  …Which is hopefully something profound, as your mere existence validates the acknowledgement of fathering.  My Dad would have scoffed at spending much time pondering such things, preferring to cruise the local harbor looking at boats, or studying the woodpile in the backyard, or downing some ice-cold Coors while listening to Buck Owens and Merle Haggard tapes.  For my part: I don’t live near a harbor, my woodpile is a tiny fraction of the multi-cord firewood collection that Dad had split himself, and I rarely throw back a beer.  But, Buck and Merle…I can do that.

Approximate playing time: 80 minutes.

1. Horace Silver  “Song for My Father”  (1964)
2. Lefty Frizzell  “Mom and Dad’s Waltz”  (1951)
3. Jim Atkins  “I’m a Ding Dong Daddy (from Dumas)”  (1953)
4. Eddie Fisher  “Oh! My Papa”  (1954)
5. Cher  “You Better Sit Down Kids”  (1967)
6. XTC  “Hold Me My Daddy”  (1989)
7. Was (Not Was)  “Dad I’m in Jail”  (1988)
8. Andre Williams & 2 Star Tabernacle  “Jet Black Daddy, Lily White Mama”  (1999)
9. Fire  “Father’s Name Was Dad”  (1967)
10. Buck Owens  “Together Again”  (1964)
11. Merle Haggard  “Mama Tried”  (1968)
12. John Hiatt  “Your Dad Did”  (1987)
13. David Lindley & El Rayo-X  “Papa Was a Rolling Stone”  (1988)
14. E*I*E*I*O  “No Father in the Family”  (1986)
15. The Magnetic Fields  “Papa Was a Rodeo”  (1999)
16. Asylum Street Spankers  “I’m My Own Grandpa”  (2002)
17. Ethel Merman & Jimmy Durante  “A Husband, A Wife”  (1951)
18. Honk  “Oh Daddy”  (1974)
19. Fat Daddy  “Fat Daddy”  (1960s)
20. Jimmy Boyd  “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”  (1952)
21. Elvis Costello  “My Three Sons”  (2008)
22. Citizen Cope  “A Father’s Son”  (2010)
23. Paul Simon  “Father & Daughter”  (2006)

[audio:Fred_FM_playlist_062010.mp3]
Fred FM playlist (20 June 2010)

[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 27 Jan 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Jan. 24, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     I want to write you but at the present, I can’t think of anything to write.  If this does develope into a half-way decent letter in stead of a note, it will be because things will come to me as I write.  I’ve been sitting here about 15 minutes trying to think of something to write.  As you can see, I finally decided to start writting and then do the thinking.  Do you suppose that will work?  I hope it does.  I don’t like to receive notes and I’m sure you feel the same way.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I prefer a letter or nothing.  That is definitely not true.  It seems like if I can write a note, I should be able to take a little more time and write a letter.  It would make you happier, I know.  That’s what I want to do.  I want to make you as happy as I possibly can.  I love you with all my heart, Sweetheart.  If I could only tell you what I’m doing, it would be easier to write.  However, it wouldn’t pass the censor if I wrote it.  It’s not that we are doing anything special, I just can’t write anything about the training we are getting. (That’s what they call it anyway.)  You can write anything you want to and still it’s rather hard at times, isn’t it?  About all I can write is personal matter.  Then I’m mentally restricted.  I don’t like the idea of someone, besides you, reading it.  Oh well, I can’t do anything about that.  I’ll just keep on writting and telling you that I love you.  Each time I try to think of a different way to say it.  Sometimes it take 2 or 3 pages to say it, but it’s there.  Other times, I can’t do any more than just say the 3 little words.  They have all the meaning though Sweetheart.  They sum up everything I try to tell you.  I love you.  In those three little words are is everything I could ever tell you.  They say – I miss you – I love you with all my heart, with all my body, and with all my soul.  I think you are wonderful – you’re the nicest person in the world – you’re the sweetest and best wife anyone could possibly have – I’m so proud that you are my wife – and I love you Sweetheart.

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

– Cidade de Deus (City of God)  (2002)

IMDb‘s synopsis:

Taking place over the course of over two decades, City of God tells the story of Cidade de Deus (Portuguese for City of God), a lower class quarter west of Rio de Janeiro. The film is told from the viewpoint of a boy named Rocket (Busca pé in Portuguese) who grows up there as a fishmonger’s son, and demonstrates the desperation and violence inherent in the slums. Based on a real story, the movie depicts drug abuse, violent crime, and a boy’s struggle to free himself from the slums’ grasp.

What a stunning film! Violent, sure; those little kids running loose around the slum shooting anything with a pulse were as frightening as anything in the movie. But – and I always say this when pressed – what sets this picture high and above most of what I’ve seen lately is the story. Story and visuals: that’s what makes a great piece of cinema. (Yes, acting is important, but you can still have a great film without too much help from the actors – some examples that immediately come to mind are The Red Balloon and Koyaanisqatsi.) The makers of Slumdog Millionaire surely borrowed tone, setting and scenario from City of God, and it’s a crime that more people haven’t (apparently) seen it.

The following clip has no English subtitles (they are not necessary), and is not recommended for the squeamish:

She pauses the stroller, plucks a honeysuckle, and inhales the elixir from its antenna; her child makes a mental entry in his Journal of Human Activities.

[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 23 Jan 1945.  Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]

Jan. 21, 1945

Hello Sweetheart,

     It’s been quite a while since I wrote, I know; but this Marine Corps – I can’t do a thing with it.  It’s all their fault.  Well  —-  I’ve got to blame it on someone.  They have kept us quite busy for the last 3 weeks.  Right at the present, I am doing a very foolish thing.  I’m eating crackers in bed.  I’ll have to stop that, won’t I?

     This is very foolish weather.  It’s been raining most of the day.  The crazy stuff, someone should th tell it that the sun has been out all day.  Oh well, that’s just part of the standing joke around here.  “Everything is all fouled up around here.”  Nothing unusual – the weather just joined the Corps.

     I received the mirror O.K.  I wasn’t expecting anything so big or so nice, but I sure do like it.  So does everybody else in the tent – darn it!  I got the box with the canned goods yesterday.  Boy — that pineapple sure was good.  Didn’t last long though.

     About the Pfc. – that happened Dec. 5.  Somebody swipped stole “Sack-time.”  We don’t know who, what, when, or where.  He is just gone.  One fellow says he thought he say saw a guy drive off with him in a truck.  We sure do miss the little rascal around here.

     You know what I said about the censor.  Changed my mind.  He’s getting to be a pretty good guy.  It was funny that day.  I was coming out of the mess at noon and one of the officers stopped me.  He kind’a laughed and told me that he had censored my letter that morning.  Then he proceeded to question him me as to who it was I didn’t like.  I just laughed and told him that it wasn’t him.  (It wasn’t.)  I guess that satisified him.  That was all that was said about it anyway.

     How did you ever get your folks to play cards?  That really surprised me.  Do they really like the game?  I’m glad to hear it.  Tell them to practice up cause we’ll show them how when I get there.

     Well, I can’t think of anything else to write so I guess I’ll have to give you “The Word” on a little item.  You keep saying that you are “silly” then you ask if I agree.  Now you know better than that.  If I did think so, I wouldn’t tell you and I don’t think so.  How’s that for murdering my “grammer?”  You aren’t a bit silly Sweetheart.  I love you.  I keep dreaming and trying to decide what I’ll do after the war.  There are too many “if’s.”  The only thing definite is that I’m going to be with you.  That’s what I dream of and long for.  I want to do nothing but be with you and love you Sweetheart.  I love you so much Sweetheart and all I can do about it now is tell you – tell you in writting.  That helps, but it isn’t satisfactory.  There is a song – “There’ll be some changes made.”  Now, I’d like to find one telling me “when.”  It can’t be too soon.  I’m ready yesterday and more so today.  What good does it do though?  Just wait – wait.  It has been done before.  I don’t think there is anyone better and than you; and I feel that if so-and-so can do, I can to.  I guess we’ll just wait – and hope.  That’s all we can do.  I love you Sweetheart.  I can show you that better than I can tell you.  I’ll show you in letters as best I can, Sweetheart.

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

[audio:Benny_Goodman___Therell_Be_Some_Changes_Made.mp3]
“There’ll Be Some Changes Made” (1941), by Benny Goodman with Louise Tobin

The colorblind postal clerk shows me a sheet honoring Bill Mauldin, describing it as “the newest in the African-American series.”

*

Here is a photo of Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist Bill Mauldin:

(AP file photo)