A CIVILIAN AGAIN

[This letter ends the winter series about my dad's brief encounter with the army during World War II. He was already 38 when he was drafted, and apparently the training and usefulness of these older men was controversial, though I haven't been able to find much about it. Anyway, we'll let Vance tell us about his last days in the Medford, Oregon, area. The picture was taken by his cousin, Fay, who wanted a picture of him in "civvies."]

Jacksonville, Ore.

March 5, '43

Dear Folks,

I was discharged Tuesday afternoon and went into Medford and stayed the night with Grant and Ruth, coming on out here [to Jacksonville] the following afternoon. Yesterday Fay, Mavis, and I went up to the old Britt home and photo studio and saw their collection of antiques. The whole house is practically a museum. I played on the old Steinway square grand piano which dates back to 1876 and Pete says it came around the Horn. It is still in fine shape and the rosewood case is a beauty. We got a big kick out of the old glass and the old picture frames, etc.

I rather hated to leave the camp when it came right down to it. I had made one close friend, an awfully fine fellow from Pocatello, and we had both been in radio together. He is due to go out on the cadre sometime in the near future. Everyone wished me well and I wished they were getting out, too.

I am going to leave for Portland tonight on the 7:15 train. Would have taken the bus but my reduced fare certificate is only good on the train. We are supposed to arrive in Portland about 8 a.m. tomorrow. I will probably be there two or three days, then go to Raymond for about a week and on to Seattle to see Shirley if I think I can afford it. I was shorted on pay from what I expected [as I was allowed transportation only from Medford to South Bend instead of Quincy, CA, where I transferred.] All I can say is that I have been a bill of expense to the army and the army to me. I do have $10,000 insurance, however, which is one boon.

This afternoon Fay and I are going to look at the cemetery which they think will prove interesting and no doubt will. I got a few left-overs washed yesterday so have a spot of ironing to do. I wrote Lynn, Shirley, and Stanley but threw away Pearl's address when I cleaned house so could not tell her of my discharge.

As far as I know there are no strings attached as to where I shall work but I suppose I will locate in Portland.

My love to you, Vance

Back in the land of stamps again. I must be a civilian.

POLITICS AND WAR

[Vance writes to his parents from Camp White, Oregon, February 16, 1943:]

Now, to your last letter. It is nice to hear of quail in the land again. For so many years we saw almost none, as you remember. No doubt they are thankful for the food. I hope your little friend found his kinfolk. It is a comfort to know both of you have stood the severe winter so well.

I hope you find you have enough coffee to get by on. As you say it may be as well not to drink so much. I am glad you have the blankets to use. I bought the big figured one at Chester and I don't think there is much if any wool in it, though I paid about eight dollars for it.

As you suggest the world is certainly in "a mell of a hess" and whether the present administration is off on the wrong foot or not is certainly problematic. Everyone feels the 11,000,000 men under arms to be beyond reason. I fully believe such a program will be ash canned. It seems to me we go whole hog at the wrong time both in peace and war. I hope there are enuf congressmen against F.D.R. to keep him in line. Never a dull moment. It has passed thru my mind that Hitler might be dead but I doubt it. He's too much of a devil to be so obliging. Of course, the three days of mourning do sound fishy.

I am charmed with Robin's rhymes in her version and glad you quoted them. [Roberta (Robin) Shockley, my dad's two-year-old niece, must have been entertaining her elders with her own nursery rhymes.] Lynn mentioned them also. Lynn says she is feeling 100% better and may stay another week. I hope she does. I think that Portland climate is poison to her but she is so attached to the place. I am glad to hear of the new dresses. New clothes do help the morale, and I'm sure you must need them.

I am so sorry to hear of Jimmy Jewell's death. I remember him as a mere baby and a very small child. It just doesn't seem possible [that Jimmy could have been old enough to go to war and now killed]. I was always so fond of Mrs. Jewell. Well, such is war ------- [Some readers may remember the Jewell family. Mrs. Jewell was my Grandmother Portfors' best friend. They lived kitty-corner from my folks on Brown Avenue.]

We are having fine weather but we have a warm east wind of some velocity tonight and I think I smell rain. We go out on a division problem Thursday for overnight and I hope it isn't sopping wet.

Love to you and again, thanks for the food and the work it took. Vance

GAINING WEIGHT

Feb. 16^th [1943]

Dear Mother and Dad,

I'll take up where I left off last night and answer your letters. First, tho, the goodies and popcorn came today and in excellent shape. They are very good and a few of the fellers say so, too. Fortunately for the cookies part of our platoon is out on a problem so I managed to save a few. They went for the corn, too. Everyone pretty much shares their cake and cookies so every now and then we get a treat, and as I have said before we can buy unlimited amounts of candy bars. I wonder if you'd like to have me send you a box of milk chocolate bars or are the bad for what ails you? Thanks for the cookies. I really do not know whether I'll be able to mail you the can or not but I'll do my best. You see, we have to go to Division P.O. to mail anything and wrapping paper is scarce as hens' teeth. As you said I won't worry too much either way for I really think I'll be out of here before you would mail me anything more.

I went out to Fay's two weeks ago last Sunday. Grant and Ruth went also, Mavis meeting us in Medford with the car. Fay had not been able to get meat because they lost their market at Jacksonville and anyway Fay is very casual about her entertaining. However she had hot light rolls and cinnamon rolls and they were delicious. In the evening she fried off a batch of raised doughnuts and we left there about 9 P.M. simply gorged with food. I did a long session at the piano. I am enclosing two snaps taken on that day. The group is good but my coat looks like sin. I have gained some weight so it really is a little snug for me. Please keep the pictures for me. It is really difficult to keep too many things on hand.

I must say, Mother, that you do a wonderful job on your letters and need never worry apparently for something to write about. I am glad you folks are getting out a little even if only back and forth to June's. It helps break the monotony. It is a comfort to know both of you stood the severe winter so well. So you're reading The Unobstructed Universe. Yes, I recall many of Betty's statements. A very fine book. I have not yet had time to read Beyond the Unknown which I brought with me.

I do a little laundry but only when I run short of small items. We get our laundry done for $1.50 per month so I don't bother. Many of the fellows do all of theirs but I can't see it. No pressing. There isn't much to be done anyhow and it is only $.40 to have trousers cleaned and pressed! No, I wrote the last line on previous letter in the hall where a light is usually on. You'd be surprised how much correspondence is done in the latrine. Sometimes every throne is occupied with late letter writers. To me such surroundings are not conducive to really creative writing. Ha.

[So, the jacket that fit so well in November when he was inducted is now a little snug. My dad never worried about his weight. He said what he gained in winter he would lose with the summer farm work. He did say the diet in camp was starchy and apparently he wasn't drilling enough to work it off. On the other hand, were they fed well in camp in order to "fatten them up" for what lay ahead -- battle on foreign shores, etc.?]

BASIC IS OVER – NOW WHAT?

Saturday afternoon the regiment gathered for a little talk by Col. Murray. He complimented us on passing tests and said that now basic was finished things would be easier and that there would be more furloughs and leaves for everyone and as a little gift no duty until 6 A.M. Monday. At that the cheering broke out and if you don't think our part of the camp took off for Medford in herds you are mistaken. Even I went in after calling Ruth up and finding Grant was on his way in. It was a mad jam getting onto a bus but after waiting in line an hour we made it. After Ruth finished work the three of us took off for their apartment and spent most of the night talking and lunching. I slept on the davenport and we rose very late on Sunday. In the afternoon Fay's family and Aunt Mabel came into town for a little while and visited. They said a friend of theirs has been discharged from the army, and I guess he has gone to work in California. Late last night I grilled a big steak I had bought on Ruth's electric range and after eating heartily Grant and I got back to camp about 1 A.M. so we had quite a time.

I have not heard yet about my discharge but when I do I'll probably leave in three or four days time. You see, the new regulation is that all men 38 are to be discharged whether they have physical disabilities or not and just the other day the men 38 and over were called in here at camp and told to get letters of employment if they had not done so. Two men here in my platoon go out next Thursday and my affidavit was filed about the same time as theirs. There seems to be some sort of hold-up on the discharges. One fellow who is waiting to hear claims they are out of x-ray film for photographing our lungs, which I guess is part of the procedure. I think I'll spend a couple of days at Fay's before I take off. They are very insistent and I'd like to.

I have just discovered it is nearly 9 o'clock and I think I'll ring off and get this mailed. What a winter! Glad you have weathered it so well and glad the blankets reached you.

My love to you,

Vance

[On the one hand, Vance seems fully engaged in army maneuvers and problems and interested in what's happening. On the other hand, he can hardly wait to be discharged. But now it's not a matter of whether or not he wants to be discharged. He will be discharged because of his age, but he must return to civil defense work. KW]

BASIC TRAINING -- ON ALERT

The letter of February 15, 1943, continues:

We have finished basic training and passed the 9^th Corps army test, which was Sunday a week ago. We went out only a few miles and I rode both ways because of my feet. Saturday night before I went to the dispensary and had my blisters drained and my feet dressed for I thought I might have to hike. I hung around the radio car that day and did nothing but kill time. The examiner asked us a few questions on radio procedure and that was all. The 9^th Corps area headquarters are Fort Lewis and that was where the examining officers came from.

Also a week ago Saturday the 1^st Battalion went on "alert." Now I can't tell you for sure what alert means except you have to be ready to pack up and do almost any silly thing. For instance, last Sunday we got back from said test about 6 P.M. and no sooner had we struck the barracks than we were "alerted" and just had time to swallow a little food when we were told to pack everything we owned in our barracks bags, roll a full field pack with overcoat and overshoes tied on top of pack, carry rifles and wear our helmets and be ready to leave at 8 o'clock. As a matter of fact, we fell out at 7:30. There was some speculation as to whether it was the real thing or not for whenever the time comes to move on we will do just that. As it turned out we marched about two miles and returned to barracks and unpacked everything.

Then middle of last week as part of the alert we got ready for an all night problem. Everybody got ready with packs and the hour of departure was postponed from time to time until it got nearly 10 p.m. Our lieutenant came in then and said, "Parkins, Dobson, McCeary and Watkins go to bed because you have to go to school tomorrow. The rest of you will fall out at 10 o'clock." Well, those poor devils went out and didn't get back until 5:30 a.m. and they really took a beating for they walked up hill and down and fell in the mud with rifles and all. They fell into bed as we got up and got ready for school. Of course, they got the day off if you can call cleaning up after a mess like that a day off. That was about the end of the fireworks.

OUT ON MANEUVERS

[Again, Vance writes to tell the folks at home about his experience in basic training. I found I was able to scan some photos from a copy of "The Camp White Rogue," Vol. 1 No.1, that I found amongst Vance's things. The handwriting on the above is Vance's: "The tree above was the only full sized one in camp. Stands in front of Div. Headquarters." ]

Feb. 15 [1943]

Dear Mother and Dad,

I'm sorry time slips by so fast but so it does and as usual we have been going pretty fast. At least it seems fast but as I look back it seems we sit around waiting for orders a good deal of the time.

We went out on a field maneuver a week ago last Friday. We rose early and took off long before sun-up out toward Table Rock to the west of camp. A large share of the 91^st was on the problem and it looked like quite an army when we got strung out with all the men and equipment. We stopped a lot on the way out for simulated airplane attacks of gas. At the order "Gas" we scattered to either side of the road after first putting our masks on. Off in the distance we kept hearing bombs exploding and as we progressed discovered the explosions were coming from the bridge across the Rogue River. As we neared the bridge we put on masks again and were given "on the double" which means a fast dog trot. Just as we got on the bridge the bombardment became fiercer and the explosions made the bridge tremble. Some of the soldiers got well splashed with water. There was a little fog drifting that morning and it seemed fairly dense on the bridge. Due to the exertion of running and the hard breathing I got a suffocating feeling so I pulled my mask loose and took a few deep breaths of air. On the first one my eyes started to sting and I realized what I had mistaken for fog on the river was tear gas. I snapped my mask back in place and found I could breathe after all rather than be gassed. We ran for a short distance after we crossed the bridge and it was a blessed relief when we got out of the gas area to take off our masks. I didn't get enough gas to bother but one or two other fellows did the same stunt I did and got a pretty bad dose. Of course they were the object of much ribbing. It was very realistic and good training. We hiked about 20 miles round trip and coming back we really hit a pace. I stood it fine except my feet blistered badly and the last few miles were pretty painful. My shoes are too big and every hike I've been on I have been more or less worse for wear. Guess I'll have to fill them up with socks but sometimes when you put on too many socks it is bad, too. As I said I felt fine otherwise.

[I love the photo on the left. The caption reads: "Brigadier General Percy W. Clarkson, U.S.A. Asst. Division Commander, Major General Charles H. Gerhardt, U.S.A. Commanding the 91st Infantry Division and Brig. General Edward S. Ott, U.S.A., the Division Artillery Commander, in front of Division headquarters. From 10 a.m. till 5 p.m. all men in the 91st train in the hot sunshine bared to the waist and general officers are no exception to this rule." My opinion is that Gen. Gerhardt indeed looks fit. I'm not so sure about the other two. Gen. Ott seems tense to me, like he's sucking it in for the camera.

The photo on the right is captioned as follows: "The commander of the 9st Infantry Division believes that officers should be able to perform as well as direct any task expected of their men. Pictured above: The Division Staff, led by Generals Gerhardt and Clarkson, are swimming the swift Rogue river, fully armed and with regulation packs." KW]

SEND COOKIES

[This post finishes the letter of January 30, 1943, written by Vance to his folks.] You are right about the mail and food being the soldier's dish. We eat an awful lot of candy for some reason or other. I hesitate to have you bake stuff but, of course, I'd love to have some molasses cookies or on second thought maybe filled cookies would be better if you have or can get raisins. They would not break up and anyhow I don't care much for molasses cookies unless they stay crisp which I doubt would be possible. Some way cake doesn't appeal so much right now. We have cake every once in a while anyhow. So how about some filled cookies if you have nothing better to do.

Had a letter from Nellie Gaylord last night and she promised some cookies sometime in the near future so it looks as if I may fare well. She and Howard had driven to Portland and had a hectic time getting back home. She drove off the road in a blizzard and nearly upset the car. Had to crawl out over Howard and walk over a mile into Pe Ell for help. Finally got out but left the car in Pe Ell and took the bus to Raymond. I guess they must be in pretty good shape to stand such a rap. Howard was terribly scared but had no ill effects.

[Howard and Nellie Gaylord, an elderly couple, were friends of my dad's in Raymond. When Daddy married Mother, Nellie came for the wedding. When she passed away, she left her car to my dad. I think brother Chuck used it for a while – drove it to and from the University of Idaho for a year or two, I believe.]

Most of the fellows are in town tonight and lights should be out but aren't. However, I won't tempt the fates too far so here goes for so long for this time.

My love to you, Vance -- P.S. Lights just went out.

BAKING COOKIES

There's no doubt about it – Grandma Ina's recipe for gingersnaps (or molasses cookies) was my dad's favorite. When he baked cookies, this is the recipe he used. I'm surprised that he thought better of her sending a batch of these.

INA DOBSON'S GINGERSNAPS

5 or 6 cups flour

¾ cup sugar

½ tsp salt

1 ½ tsps ginger

1 tsp cloves

½ tsp cinnamon

1 cup Crisco

1/14 cup molasses

1 ½ tsps soda

1/3 cup hot water

Mix and sift dry ingredients except soda. Cut in shortening until like coarse cornmeal. Make a well in center and molasses and soda dissolved in hot water. Add more flour if necessary for stiff dough. Roll out thinly on floured board. Grease cookie sheets. Bake at 350 for 8 minutes.

Now, my dad loved to change recipes. He always thought that he could improve any recipe. Often he didn't even try the recipe before he began to experiment with it. Grandma's gingersnap recipe was no exception. He added an egg and ½ cup brown sugar to this recipe. When I make them, I stick with Grandma's recipe.

I mixed the dough last night while cooking supper. Knowing that this recipe makes a large batch of cookies, I halved it. I used a 2 1/2-inch round cutter. My dad used a larger cutter – probably the lid of a Crisco or coffee can when such were tin – and then stored the cookies in a large tin can where they stayed crisp as he gradually ate them up.

I don't know the origin of this recipe, but it's similar to recipes for "Joe Froggers," historic to New England. KW

WRITING LETTERS

[This continues the letter of January 30, 1943, written by my dad, Vance, from Camp White, Oregon, to his folks on the farm in Idaho. Vance was drafted at the age of 38 – apparently at the high end of age eligibility. Many of these "older" men became sick because of the strenuous winter training in the cold, damp Oregon environment. Vance has applied to return to civil defense work. He notes that "men are leaving all the time."]

I enjoyed your large letter. I have written Shirley but not Ethel. I hope to soon. I'd like to relieve you of forwarding letters but I write you details I really haven't time to write everyone in the hope you will send the letters on. Why don't you let me forward some of yours and relieve the pressure on your correspondence. I had a letter from Shirley a few days ago. From news from the north it seems the country from Portland to Seattle is having a bad cold spell and lots of snow. No snow here and not very cold, praise be! Your weather has been on the jump, too.

. . . next week we start exams since next week ends our first phase of basic training – then we go into the second phase. This radio course is for 12 weeks but I won't be here to finish it, I hope, tho I am enjoying it.

I am glad you got the extra revenue from the flax without a fight. I think you did well to pay up as much as you did. I hope you got enough for the beeves considering the present price of meat. So far the markets in Medford are putting out fine displays of meat if the market Ruth works in is any example.

I had a card from Pearl promising a letter when they got settled. I'm sure you did miss her. I enjoyed her a great deal on my visits to Corvallis. [The photo here is of my grandmother, Ina, with two of her daughters, Shirley and Pearl, at Volunteer Park in Seattle. I wonder if Volunteer Park still exists. I think Aunt Pearl spent some time with the folks on the farm in the fall of 1942. She and her husband, Al Sanders, were relocating from Canada to the United States, and my guess is that at this time they are getting settled in Seattle. Aunt Shirley also lived in Seattle.]

Yes, I get $50 per month. So far have had one pay day and got $60, but there were some deductions. We have another pay day next week, I think. I think Grant rates his stripe partly because of his marksmanship. He is a nice chap. I went into Medford Wednesday night and met him and Ruth in town and had a nice session. It was the first chance I had had to talk to Grant. We walked Ruth home and Grant and I caught the bus and rode out to camp together. [When I think of war, I think of the sacrifices made by mothers. It was hard on marriages, too. KW]

A VISIT TO GRANTS PASS

Jan. 30, '43

Dear Folks,

Did I ever tell you that Camp White is set right out in the middle of a plain completely surrounded with mountains? It is a desert in summer. It was apparently a big lake or inland sea ages ago and they find many beautiful agates here about. I thought of this item tonight, or rather afternoon, while we were on parade. It was a beautiful sunny evening and Mt. Pitt was white and shining to the east (south to me) as we passed our commanding officers in review. I had a freshly cleaned and pressed pair of trousers to wear so felt quite dressed up.

Tomorrow I am going out to Jacksonville to visit Fay. Mavis is to pick Grant, Ruth, and myself up in Medford and take us out. Ruth is working at a lunch counter in the grocerateria in Medford and has a room for which she pays $10 per week just to sleep. She and another girl are offering $80 per month for an apartment. Isn't that terrific! Medford is really making hay off the soldiers.

I started attending Division Radio School last Monday morning and have been getting along fine. This morning I passed my Z5 group which complete the alphabet and numerals in code. Now I start working for speed. So far all our study has been in receiving and will be for a while. My next assignment known as Z6 is receiving code at 5 words per minute. After that comes 7 words per minute, then 10 words per minute. I guess that will hold me for some time. We will start sending (using the key) when we work up some speed receiving.

Last Saturday night I went to Grants Pass – 30 miles north – to visit Carrie Morrison, who is Russ Saling's mother-in-law. Left Medford at 10 P.M. and got up there shortly after 11. We sat up and visited until about 3 A.M. so got up very late. Had breakfast in Carrie's room and then strolled about town, ate a late dinner, and I left there at 6 P.M. I had a letter from Carrie tonight saying she was sending me a sweater. She knit it for the Red Cross but had not turned it in so I tried it on when I was up there and it was a perfect fit. She knits beautifully. She got the committee to say I could have it so she will mail it as soon as she hears from me. It is sleeveless and in the khaki color.

[The above photo is of Vance (right) with his friend, Russ Saling, and Russ' girlfriend. Though the picture doesn't show it so much, Russ was a big guy. (I mean -- my dad is standing on something. Russ was probably 6'4".) When Russ was older his hair was pure white and he bore striking resemblance to United States Supreme Court Justice Earl Warren. Russ and his wife, Frances (not the girl in the picture) lived in San Francisco, and he related that people were often deferential toward him because they just weren't quite sure whether he was -- or was not -- Justice Warren. Frances' mother was the Carrie Morrison mentioned in the above post. Alas! I confess that I let that khaki sweater go with the rest of my dad's clothes when he no longer needed them. I'm sorry now, of course, because it was a fine example of the type of work volunteers were doing for our soldiers during the war. KW]

MORE TRIVIA ON CAMP LIFE

[The very long letter of January 17, 1943, continues. Just think how many hours went into writing letters at that time. Just think how many hours we spend on the computer nowadays in the interest of social networking alone, not to mention so many other pursuits.]

I am answering your last two letters now so stand by. As far as "eats," there is no trouble in getting rid of them. Quite the contrary. I have shared the last two-thirds of most of my cakes with the bunch and they do likewise.

Do not bother about a sweater. I have plenty of clothes now to keep warm and last week we were issued four-buckle rubber overshoes. They keep the feet warm and dry but are they heavy! It's some fun trying to run in them.

I have written Harry Llewellyn [his supervisor with his previous employer] for an affidavit and should have it any time now. I hear rumors of lots of men being released here but I doubt it for most of them wouldn't have had time to get action on their releases. The army camp is just as vulnerable to rumor as the civilian town. Thanks for all the clippings from the paper. I got a copy of "The Bugle" from Raymond. It is a small mimeographed folder of about six pages of local news which some of the women up there are putting out for the boys in the service. It's a nice idea. They are going to put one out every month.

You asked how much my pack weighs. That depends on what is in it. What is known as "full pack" weighs about twenty pounds, I should say. "Combat sack" weighs about ten pounds. The rifle weighs nine pounds.

I did not hear Roosevelt's speech and I am glad you did and that you have plenty of coffee and sugar. Someway all three seem related. I am sorry to hear of the mix up on the stove. It has been so long coming and them to have it wrong. Maybe you will be able to get one in town later.

I have seen most of the Digests and have been buying them since I came into the army. They are only $.15 to servicemen. I was very interested in what you wrote of J. Paul Snyder. He has had some adventures, too, it seems. I lost track of him after he went to China. I am glad to know he got back all right.

You are right about church, I daresay, but when you hit the pace I've been hitting a whole day to loaf is good for the spirit also, and when I go to church I sit and pick the sermons to pieces just as if I knew all about it. Perfect snob! I'll try it again sometime, though.

We have plenty of garbage cans for waste paper and old letters and we have to empty the cans every morning. We're in the army, you know.

We heard on the radio last night that Berlin had been soundly bombed. Isn't it awful, on the other hand, for mankind to take pleasure at such news. Not that Germany doesn't deserve it. Also heard this morning that one of Kaiser's tankers at Swan Island broke in two and sank in shallow water. Wonder what the trouble is. Can't believe it was sabotage. Must be some faulty engineering somewhere.

We had a flurry of snow a while ago but clear and sunny again now. It has been a relief to have no rain for almost two weeks. I think spring will be nice here but doubt any of us will be at this camp. Rumor has it that they are clearing this camp out sometime which may bear out what you heard over the radio.

By the way, should you in any emergency want to get a "come home" message to me, you are to contact the Red Cross there and have the message come through the Red Cross at Medford, I suppose. That takes the phoniness out of it, you see. I never thought to tell you this before. We hear that in the future the government is to pay the transportation on furlongs.

Love, Vance

[Old time Orofinoans might remember something about J. Paul Snyder mentioned above. I just remember my mother speaking of him. The photo is of my dad and his cousin, Grant Montgomery, taken in Jacksonville, Oregon, near Camp White.]

THE SHOOTING RANGE

Jan. 17, '43

Dear Folks,

I suppose you get tired of hearing how busy I have been. It isn't the work, it's the long hours. We have been going out to the range for two weeks now. The first week my outfit was working in the pits and on the telephones and this last week we have been trying to get our own firing done. Most of us finished last night. Yesterday was the first day in two weeks we have been able to fire the whole day. The fog has been so bad that sometimes we couldn't start until afternoon. Today is sunny and the rest of the outfit which is firing guns other than the Garand are going to the range this afternoon to finish up. I didn't do too well firing but I did qualify with the score of 147 which is the qualifying number. One of the fellows in our platoon made 207. The highest possible score would be 220. The chap is one of the highest scorers in the battalion. Grant made a high score, so Fay wrote me, and was put into Intelligence and Reconnaissance (I&R) which is a rather high-power outfit and apt to move out fast. He is also rated Private 1^st Class (PFC) which gives him a stripe when they can get the stripes. Fay says there is a shortage of stripes.

One more item about the firing range I wanted to tell you. In sending the shots on the target you have different colored discs on a long sole which you hold over the bullet hole to show what the score is. On a total miss you wave a red flag and we call this, quaintly enough, "Maggie's drawers." So we say a man got a certain number of "Maggies." Thought you might enjoy knowing this worthless bit of information.

Since we started shooting I have had the rifle to tear down and clean every night and that is quite an operation. It is always time to go to bed by the time I get through.

Your description of Christmas sounded fine! You really had a white one. I am glad you had some candles and silvered spray left and sorry you rated no green holly this Christmas. I believe I sent it every Christmas I was in Raymond.

It seems you got quite a number of books. I have read Osa Johnson's book [I Married Adventure] and it really is one you will remember. Her descriptions of the elephant country take you to another world. I have read Mrs. Miniver and seen the movie. There is no story to the book but it is very enjoyable. The movie was excellent in bringing to life a replica of what Mrs. Miniver would probably be in the flesh. I never got to read The Keys to the Kingdom but all the critics hailed it as an outstanding work.

New Years at Aunt's with oyster soup and the whole cellar on the table! I wish I could sit down to one of them almost any day now.

[I remember reading and enjoying Osa Johnson's I Married Adventure during harvest when I was about 12 – the same copy that Grandma Ina had read, I'm sure. It's still there in the bookcase on the farm. Maybe I'll read it again. Have you heard of Martin and Osa Johnson? It's amazing how much interesting history -- news of the day, topics people discussed -- is eventually overlooked. Have you read Mrs. Miniver or The Keys to the Kingdom? KW]

BACK TO THE PAST: ANYTHING HAPPENS

Jan. 10^th [1943]

Dear folks,

We've been fooling around all day waiting for the fog to lift so we can go on the firing range. It is now nearly 3 P.M. so I guess we're not going. Had a nice letter from Lynn yesterday. She is back at work again. I wrote two letters – no three letters – today, one long one to Earle so you get by on a card. Got your letter safely and will answer soon. Sorry our connection was poor last Sunday but was glad to talk anyhow. The call was only $.95. I am feeling well. Have been doing lots of hiking to the rifle range about 3 ½ miles from camp yesterday. We went out and back twice with no serious results. Our platoon has been working as telephone orderlies on the range but tomorrow we start firing. I am told I am not to fire because of being ill for 2 weeks during practice, but I don't know for sure. Anything happens.

Love, Vance

[Here's a photo of my dad's sister, Lynn, taken in Portland in 1944. Her real name was Myrtle Irene. At some point she decided to be Lynn, and I always called her "Aunt Lynn." Some of the family always called her Myrtle, and then in later life she decided to be "Myrtle" again. Well, it was too late for me. I still call her "Aunt Lynn."

Aunt Lynn was born about 1894 and graduated from Lewiston High School. Then she went to Portland where she worked for years as a photographer's assistant and photo re-toucher. During World War II, she was employed by the Kaiser shipyard as an office worker. She never married. During the late 1940s she came back to the farm and was a companion to her mother, Ina, until her passing. Aunt Lynn passed away December 28, 1971, at the nursing home in Orofino. KW]

ON RIFLES, MEALS, AND LEISURE TIME

[The letter of January 1, 1943, continues:]

Tomorrow I go on rifle range for the first time to fire the N130 rifle otherwise known as the Garand but not called that in army parlance. Some of the fellows have been out already. We get to fire only three shots tomorrow but that will probably take us all forenoon with all the coaching, etc. We have been learning the rudiments of firing positions by practicing on the floor of the barracks. When we do stunts of that kind in barracks we stand our bunks on end against the walls. Grant [his cousin] has already had some firing practice and has done very well at it although he has done very little shooting. I am very erratic with a gun so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

I have been re-reading your last letter, Mother, and found it coherent though I can imagine how you felt with two days to Christmas. I take it you had a white one and I am awaiting the account of your day. [The photo is of the farmhouse and grounds as they might have appeared during a white Christmas. Note the depth of the grove -- many more trees than today. And note, too, the orchard to the south (left) of the farmhouse.]

We had the forenoon off today but worked this afternoon. Our food was nothing special today. We had salmon fried to a crisp at noon and tonight our main dish was macaroni and cheese which I enjoyed. Day before yesterday we had turkey for dinner (noon), so you see there is no rhyme or reason to how menus come up. For the most part, the food is fair but quite heavy and starchy. We generally have canned fruit at supper and we almost always have some kind of citrus fruit or apples at breakfast. Generally we have a raw salad of some sort at dinner and very often they serve soup at dinner. As you see, our noon dinner is the heavy meal. We have coffee at least twice a day and not of too good quality. Of course, we take our meals in one of the company mess halls. I have done K.P. duty only once here so I expect it any day again now. Our beds are comfortable and lots of ventilation. There is lots of reading material in the day room if you can find the late issues in the mix up. I have been buying the Readers Digest. It is $.15 at the post exchange. And I buy Time whenever I can find it. The newsboys come around almost every day. By the time we do our chores and write letters there is not much time left. I have a formidable correspondence list.

Yes, one of the fellows has a small radio and it is good. Of course, there isn't much chance to hear the really good programs. The general taste doesn't run to such. There are "general protestant" services on Sunday but I have not attended.

Love, Vance

P.S. I haven't mailed the package of shirts yet. Have to go some distance to do it.

ASSIGNED TO RADIO AND VISUAL

Jan. 1^st, '43

Dear folks,

And may 1943 see us thru and see it thru. Mother, I apologize for not mentioning the testament and your picture. [Perhaps Ina sent him this portrait taken in 1940 -- "Mom, apple pie, and the American way."] Thanks for both. I was rather fuddled when I wrote the last letter for I received three other packages the day yours came and I was trying to keep who sent what separated in my mind. Tom and Phyllis Fairchild sent me a sewing kit – much nicer than the one I had purchased. The thread is on little spools and looks to be of good quality.

I believe I wrote you last Sunday after my leave was over. On Monday Lieut. Steig took me out of the "wire and switchboard" section and asked me how I'd like to try "radio and visual," another section of communications. He said he realized I was older than most of the men in our group and radio would not entail so much drilling. I hope it will prove that way. Anyhow I made something of a record picking up the first lesson in code and think I am about ready to pass the test in lesson two. [My dad once told me that the army was impressed with his ability to quickly learn the communication codes.]

This last week has not been very strenuous. However, I [was excused from] a 3 ½-hour hike night before last. Our platoon was to go out with full pack and rifle. I thought I might make it with pack but not if I had to carry both. So I went to the top sarge and asked to be excused from carrying rifle. He said 'all right by him' but that men should go on sick list if they thought they couldn't take it. I told him I thought I might be able to stand the hike with pack but not with rifle. He told me to get final permission from my platoon sergeant. I came back and told Sarg. Higdon, platoon sergeant, and he said 'perfectly all right,' so I got my pack ready and on and sat down on my bunk waiting for the time to take off. Higdon came up to me and asked me if I thought I should attempt the hike. I told him if I found I couldn't make it, I guessed I was privileged to drop out and come back. He looked thoughtful and said, "I tell you, you just stay here. I think you'd better not try it." Higdon is a young Texan and very popular with the men.

Now, I don't want you to think I am in a dangerous condition from this but the dregs of my cold have kept me down and as everyone knows these hikes are no pipe. I still cough a good deal at night but I am getting gradually better.

[Can you believe this? He's being prepared for war, but his superiors agree that he can drill without his rifle and finally kindly suggest that he just stay back. I think he was unquestionably sick – probably had pneumonia. And can you imagine what it was like for these young officers to have to train men old enough to be their fathers? I think unless you were pretty hardened, that would have been really tough, especially as you saw them sick and struggling. Gradually better? Perhaps. But I think the officers knew that strenuous exercise in the cold or a soaking with icy water might well put him in the hospital – or worse. What we don't know is how many were sick and hospitalized. KW]

THE BARRACKS

Since I wrote you just yesterday I think I'll describe the barracks to you. They are two-story buildings about 70 feet long and 30 feet wide. There are about 30 single steel cots on each floor, 15 to each side with a wide alleyway down the middle. There are two doors at either end and from one end a stairway goes to the 2^nd floor. I am on the ground floor, but I prefer the upper for they are generally warmer and there is less traffic through. Each barracks has its own hot air heating plant and they are adequate when properly fired. Sometimes the janitor seems to take Dutch leave and we freeze slightly. When we are in barracks we usually sit upon our beds for there are no chairs. We can sit on our lockers but not so comfortable. I can't write so much about routine because it changes so much from day to day. However, we always line up at 6:15 each morning for roll call. Between 6:15 and 7:30 we must eat breakfast and clean up the barracks and be properly uniformed for whatever the day calls for. We generally have an hour at noon for chow and mail call and after the afternoon session return to barracks a little before 5:00 p.m., change into dress uniform, and turn out for retreat which is the evening ceremony at which the flag is lowered. After that we go to chow, have evening mail call, and the rest of the evening is ours. Sounds simple, doesn't it? And it wouldn't be so bad except for the climate and the fact that the general is such a fresh air and fresh water fiend.

I got the shirts and am returning them for they are not heavy enough to be much force. I guess I left my sweat shirt somewhere else for you would have recognized it had it been there. They are of grey material (cotton) and fleece-lined. I bought two yesterday over in Jacksonville so expect to be able to keep warm. I did wear the heavier ribbed shirt you sent for a few days so you'd better wash it. The other two are not soiled. You will note that the box and paper are yours to me in reverse. I put some unusual Christmas paper inside which the Hannan's gift came wrapped in because I thought it would make such pretty cut-outs for your next year's boxes. I am going to turn out for regular duty tomorrow and I think I'll be able to stand it. Oh, yes, I, too, read A Christmas Carol. It was reprinted in Coronet magazine and I found I had forgotten most of it.

Love to you, Vance

BACK AT CAMP WHITE

Welcome to the M/W Homestead. We are currently posting letters written by my dad, Vance Dobson, while he was stationed at Camp White, Oregon, in 1942-3. The series begins at the posting of January 15. KW

[As the previous letter of December 26, 1942, closes, Vance explains the difficulties of getting discharged from the army. You have to prove yourself unfit to serve and then prove that you will be employed in defense industries including agriculture. He also relates that he has had contact with friends from his previous employment who have offered encouragement and support. They seemed to think his best option would be the "38-year ruling." Apparently a ruling that 38-year-old men are too old for service is pending. Now back at Camp White from his Christmas leave, Vance writes home again:]

Dec. 27, '42

Dear folks,

I got back to camp last night about 10 P.M. and didn't find it as bad as I felt it would be. There was no duty today. On Sundays unless we happen to have field drill of some sort we do not have to get up for roll call or breakfast, so this morning it was nearly ten before I crawled out. I had been told I had a wad of mail so I was looking forward to 12:30 mail call. I had packages from you, the Dave Andersons, the Bob Hannans, Mom and Pop Fairchild and Carney and Fern Phelps. Besides I had a half dozen greeting cards and a letter so you see, I had myself a field day.

Everything you sent was fine and your box was certainly attractive. The sox and tie are perfect and of course, the soap and razor blades ditto. I appreciated Stan's gift, too, and hope they'll let me hang the tie rack for I'd like to get the ties out of my foot locker. They are called foot lockers because they sit at the foot of the bed. They are plywood chests with a till in them. I sampled the pork cake and am sure it is like the old. Well, many thanks.

The Andersons sent me some candy, some mints and two packs of cigarettes. Hannans sent me a carton of cigarettes and the Phelps sent me a handsome billfold which I was glad for, for I hadn't a good one. Mom and Pop Fairchild sent me the service edition of Science and Health bound in khaki-colored leather and a date and nut cake. . . . . Aren't people wonderful? – some of them? Nellie and Howard [Gaylord] sent me a money belt and a couple of soap boxes I had requested. Russell and Frances Saling sent me a box of candy and cookies. The Schaefers sent me a most delicious box of homemade fudge plus a small fruitcake, and Bertha Lewis in South Bend sent me a box of home salted nuts and stuffed dates. So you see I have been very well remembered and am simply swamped with letters and "thank you" notes to be written.

A CHANCE TO AIR SOME PEEVES . . .

[The letter of December 26 from the Montgomery home in Jacksonville, OR, continues:]

My main reason for writing from here was to tell you some of my peeves about Camp White. While I don't think there is any censorship at Camp, I don't care to take too much risk. On the other hand I don't want to worry you so remember the written word looks worse generally than the spoken sounds. For one thing Winchell referred to Camp White recently as Little Alcatraz. Just why I don't know unless it is because the physical standards are so high and they are rather unmerciful in trying to bring all men up to them. The Dec. 14^th issue of Time has an article on the camp and a picture of Gen. Gerhardt stripped to the waist, soaked to the skin astride a horse. His idea is to harden his troops as a matter of self preservation when it comes to the actual campaign and battlefield. Many of us say the hardening is worse than the battle and more lives lost. Ha! Well, anyhow I managed this awful cold and I'll go on the sick list again if I catch any more.

To continue with the general. One morning about two weeks ago Lieut. Simpson had us out for early morning drill and someone asked him how long he thought our outfit would be in camp. He was apparently mad clear through and blew his top pretty much in this wise. "I think most of you will be right here when the war ends. Lots of you men are older than I am and they can say what they want to but men after a certain age are no good for soldiering. The commanding general (meaning Gerhardt) is crazy. Absolutely nuts. It's crazy to have you men stand around out here in the cold and rain and crazier still to have you sleep out nights in the wet. I left an outfit in New Jersey because I thought it was bad but it was not a patch to this. And let me tell you, you'd have had even more of this being out in the wet if we hadn't all been raising hell about it the last few days. Particularly the medics. The medics have been crying their eyes out at the appalling numbers on the sick list and the amount of pneumonia in the hospitals. The general is crazy and they know back in Washington that he's crazy. He's the type that wires Washington every other day: 'We are ready. We are ready.' All he is thinking of is making some sort of record for himself. I think most of this outfit if you do get sent away from here will be put doing guard duty around defense plants and guarding roads, tunnels, and bridges."

Well, I stood there with my mouth open for I never thought an officer would dare come out that flat-footed in public criticism of the commanding officer. He was really madder than a hatter and I judged from his state of mind the camp was probably full of others just like him.

[My research on Gen. Charles Hunter Gerhardt indicates that he was a tough taskmaster and his methods were indeed controversial. A small man, he was in great shape himself and he expected his officers to be trim and physically fit, even those of middle age. No paunches. It sounds as though he imposed a standard of fitness on the men immediately rather than working up to it. Or – maybe it was his way of weeding out those who couldn't keep up. The Time Magazine article of December 14, 1942, can be found at this link: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,774103,00.html ]

CHRISTMAS LEAVE, 1942

[This is the continuation of a series of letters written by my dad from boot camp in the winter of '42-'43. Posts began on January 15.

Over the weekend I discovered genealogical info on the Montgomery family, my dad's cousins. Fay was born November 6, 1904, so is just six months younger than my dad. She married a dentist, Stanley Peters, in 1923, and Mavis (born 1925) is Fay's daughter. So, at the time of this correspondence, Mavis is 17. Fay also has a baby. Grant was born October 6, 1906, so is two and a half years younger than my dad. That makes him 36 and also old for soldiering. These folks were never players in my life. I don't know what happened to them.]

Jacksonville [Oregon]

Dec. 26, '42

Dear Folks,

Yesterday we did our best by Christmas and today we are being quiet so far and doing some letter writing. I didn't rise until nearly 11 o'clock this morning. Fay, Ruth, Mavis and I sat up until 1 A.M. last night so naturally all slept in. I have had a room at the neighbor's because they were overcrowded here. Grant didn't get home for his leave which was a great disappointment to everyone but most of all to Grant, I know. His company was quarantined late Wednesday afternoon just a few hours before leaves started for spinal meningitis. There have been a few cases in camp and as soon as someone comes down with it that company is put in quarantine at once.

I got here Wednesday night about 10 P.M. My leave was supposed to start Thursday at 6 A.M. but my top sarge sent for me Wednesday evening and told me I'd better get the hell on my way and that he didn't want to see me there Thursday morning. I was very surprised. I had already called Fay that afternoon and arranged for Mavis to meet met at 9 A.M. Thursday morning in Medford but I decided I'd risk it so got ready and took off. I was delayed catching a bus and it was 8:30 before I got to Medford. Fay has no phone at the house so I tried the cab companies but it was an hour before I could get a cab. Finally one arrived with two other soldiers bound for Jacksonville and I walked in on the folks at 10. They were very surprised and pleased and I was glad to find everyone up. In fact Ruth was still baking and the kitchen was full of cookies, cake, and pies. I was still very hoarse but I sat and rattled on until after midnight. My cold has been improving day by day and I am almost back to normal today. My leave expires tomorrow (Sunday) morning at 6 a.m. so I will go back to camp sometime this evening and it seems just like going back to prison. I surely have enjoyed my three days of civilian life.

Fay's baby is very cute and husky and Fay looks very well. Ruth and I had a couple of afternoon strolls and visits and got pretty well acquainted. She really is a grand gal – not pretty but lots on the ball. She cooked the Christmas dinner and did a good job of it. Our main dish was a 6 ½ pound loin of pork roast and it was really delicious. I have put in several sessions at the piano which seemed to please everyone.

Thanks for all the cards and good wishes. I read several of Aunt Mabel's and Aunt Bertha sent me a card here. Your package did not arrive before I left but may be there when I return – so I went ahead and read the inside sheet and I'm sure you made wise choices in what you sent. I'll thank you in advance.

WHAT?! GET OUT OF THE ARMY?

[The letter of December 21, 1942, continues:]

Now, this business of getting out of the army. [Get out of the army? This is the first I've heard. Whatever happened to "we must win this war" and "we must do what we must do?" But to be fair –he is sick and apparently confined to bed in the barracks.] I want you to do nothing until I can find out about it from here and I think our personnel office can give me the dope on it but it may be after Christmas before I can contact them. Your affidavits are part of my questionnaire so I doubt that you could get them. I plan to have Harry [his old supervisor] take steps to get me out , , ,

I don't know whether this will reach you before Christmas or not but it carries you my best wishes. It seems pretty un-Christmassy to me but I haven't shed any tears over it and don't expect to. I'm looking forward to my trip to Jacksonville and I'm sure I'll be feeling pretty well by then ---

The crops were pretty disappointing, weren't they? I think you did as well on flax as you would have on beans, however. But all this shorting and dockage makes you want to cuss [Ina inserts 'bawl'] everybody out. Frankly, I want none of it. If I can get out of here and get what I want, I want you to plan to rent the farm and take it easy. (But don't jump at anything for Harry is a very good friend but as temperamental as an opera star. So don't write to Polly [Harry's wife]. Let me handle this until I find where you come in.)

Tell Aunt Bertha to accept my apologies for not getting a card off to them. Yesterday was the first time I have felt like picking up a pen.

Merry Christmas and love, Vance

ON THE SICK LIST

[The following letter, which I will post in two parts, was written Monday, December 21, 1942. The photo was actually taken early in 1943, but I thought you might like a mental image of the Montgomerys. From left, they are Ruth and Grant Montgomery, Fay Montgomery Peters, and Vance, my dad. Grant and Fay are brother and sister, my dad's cousins.]

Dear Folks,

I got your letter yesterday, Mother, with Ethel's enclosed and was glad to hear from you, of course. I have been sick since last Tuesday but did not go on the sick list until last Thursday. Have been having this terrible cold which has been really an epidemic here in camp and no wonder – the weather being what it is. It's all well and good to tell you to stay in bed but you have to get out and rustle food once in a while and I have been making most of the mail calls. I have never received the package with the shirts in it but am not worrying because I only got the coat hangers a few days ago. I have practically lost my voice with this illness but there are few people one cares to talk to anyhow so it is no hardship.

It is about 2 p.m. I went over a while ago to arrange for a 3-day pass to Fay's and am sure I'll get it tho the First Sargeant barked at me like he does at everyone. There are few civil-tongued non-coms in the army. For the most part they are a bunch of "battards," if you understand me. [Under "battards" Grandma Ina had penned, "bullies."]

I had a card from Aunt Mabel along the first of last week saying she wrote you of their coming in to camp. We had a fine visit and Fay came back with Ruth [Grant's wife] and Mavis in the evening. Fay is very sweet and seems very happy over her baby. Grant appears very sober and thoughtful and looks almost exactly like George [his father] – thinner, of course but the same nose and long upper lip. He told me he wears a moustache to help cover his expanse of Montgomery lip. I had my moustache cut off at Monterey but I need not have. I'm letting it grow out again now.

I only got in two days at the communications business I wrote you about before I got sick. We had one afternoon on hooking up field phones and operating switchboards. I'll be pretty far behind when I do get going again but I give a darn -----