28 March 1945
Dear “Pop”-
Your opening remark in your last letter concerning my recruiting activities was very flattering but hardly the truth. Guess I’m just getting to old for that sort of thing, cause I have yet to be the reason for a [illegible], unless it’s one of complete disgust and boredom. And as far as living a living, that might be termed a point of conjecture.
And about the arm – this is the story. I was giving some close combat instruction, and one of my trainees caught me right on the spot with the but of his rifle. All accidental, but it put me back behind the eight ball as far as the use of the old wing was concerned. However, the world is once again rosy, my arm is as good as new, and I’m back on General Service.
As far as the general “Old Army” attitude towards limited service is concerned, I’ve seen some mighty fine officers ruined permanently because of some overzealous C.O. (usually never been overseas). It’s a crying shame but after all there’s absolutely nothing one can do about it except to just sort of grin and bear it.
Just seems as if there’s not a hell of a lot to worry about pop, I’ve just about given up. There’s eleven million guys just like me and if they can take it I’d be pretty much of a softie if I folded wouldn’t I? I can take all they can offer and I know that you know that I can.
Dewey was really shot up in sort of a bad way. Thirteen hits below the waist from a “burp” pistol. His legs were all ripped to pieces, but his recuperative powers must have been very good cause his period of hospitalization was not to long considering.
I just received a letter from Tony the day before yesterday, and he told me not to answer his letter. Said that he expects to be home before any letter from me would get over there to him. His arm hadn’t responded any to well, and it seems as if they’re going to return him to the states. What a reunion that’ll be. The only thing we’d need to make it letter perfect would be to have you and Betty Brown here with us. I know it’s an impossibility at the present, but the day might arrive so will still hope.
Pop, I’m not in Asheville this week consequently I can’t send you my copy of the letter I wrote to Mr. Holst. However, I’ll airmail it out to you this weekend when I get back to Asheville.
Honestly pop, this job has reached the highest peak of assininity (good word). So much so, as a matter of fact, that no later than last Monday AM I instituted a letter thru channels to the Adjutant General requesting immediate assignment with combat troops outside of the Continental limits. I’ve been living a much to easy life for to long a time, and every time I run into one of my old buddies I feel like the worst kind of a 4-F. If I could only attach some degree of importance to this job I’d be happy, but it can’t be done. When you write to me again it would be best not to remark on what I’ve just told you. MM reads all your letters, and if she had the least idea that I had ever sent in a request like I did, the Civil War would pale into insignificance by comparison. Just don’t be to surprised if I should look you up in Honolulu one day in the near future. Stranger things have happened.
The war news is most gratifying. That is until you find a brief notice on page six of most any paper, which states that there is no change in the 5th Army front. What a forgotten campaign that has turned out to be. Forgotten by all except those boys who’ve had nothing but hell over there ever since Salerno. Do you suppose the true stories of the “Italian Fiasco” will ever be scrutinized by the public? My heart goes out to those kids over there, Lord what a rotten deal they’ve gotten.
Did I tell you in my last letter that I ran into your old bridge partner from the 70th – Bernique? He’s the boy that had the lower part of his leg in a cast and talked with a slight accent. Well, I caught him one evening as he was passing through the Redistribution Station in Asheville. He was on his way to Washington to pick up special instructions for a job with O.S.S. Very hush hush & all that sort of thing. Didn’t know where he would eventually go or when, but he asked me to pay his respects to you the next time I wrote.
Well pop, for me this is practically a book. I haven’t written this much in two months. Give my regards to Mrs. Turner and from all of us to all of you.
“Aloha” (Is that the right expression?)
Bud
P.S. Someone slipped up somewhere, and they made me a 1st as of the 17th of Feb. Now anything can happen.
