Alice and Shorty

Dearest Alice:

Just a few lines to say all is well, though I have no momentous news (as usual). Though I do feel more hopeful and more encouraged than I have in a long time. There is no absolute facts to base that on, however, and I may be building up for a great downfall. But, anyway, I will follow your good advice and never give up hope. Who knows, maybe before the winter is over, I will see you. Also that may be only a vain hope. We are getting used to vain hopes and quite expect them. Seeing you is my greatest desire. If there is anything else that could make me happier, I don’t know what it could be.

There are times that I could imagine you are very near and there is no ocean between us. And times, it seems I can almost hear you talking. But, alas, when I wake up from such reveries to the fact that you are not near, and may not be for a long time, is when I have to pay for the moments spent in peaceful dreams. You have quite blitzed my dreams and put a pincer movement on my daily thoughts. Of course, when one wakes up from such dreams and finds himself out in one the the world’s loneliest, dreariest spots, it is quite a letdown. But, then this place has been a letdown on a lot of things I used to believe in.

If I ever get back there, I can tell you all that I must withhold now. But as it is I’m out of anything to write. Please excuse such a short letter.

I am yours forever,

Raymond

My Dearest Alice:

As you know, it has been about ten days since I wrote. Or at least, that is the last time I remember writing. So much has happened and so little can be told; therefore, I’m not going to try to explain. I’ve thought of you constantly. So it wasn’t that I’d forgotten. Maybe it would be better if I could forget for awhile now and then, but that is not the case.

You were telling me about going out with the guy. I hardly know what to say and make you see what I mean. I certainly don’t think you should stay home all the time. That would be the easiest way I know of losing you. Loneliness is a dreadful disease. You owe it to yourself and to me to go out when you choose. Only I hope you don’t go out too often with the guy in question. As long as you go with several, I’ll not think anything of it. But, Dear, you do understand what going, often, with one certain guy can cause, don’t you? I forbid not that you shall go with whomever you please, whenever you please. I trust you not to forget me. I am not sure we will be here the duration, but if I should be, it would be a long time to stay home all the time. I will admit I am still, as I have always been, just a bit jealous where that guy in question is concerned. But I do trust you absolutely; so you be your own master. Just don’t let anyone ever tell you that I don’t love you. You are all my dreams in one. Remember the song - “Be Honest With Me.”?

I am glad you got to see your brother while he was on leave. I’ve had three letters from Dee and he is about seven hundred miles from me. I still may get to see him some day. He is at a place you have often heard mentioned in the news. But he is safe, now. You have probably wanted to know more about the occupation of Kiska. Well, someday, I can tell you all of it, maybe. Any way, we are the master of the North Pacific now. The Japs are gone from their last stronghold. If you ask ‘what now’ you will be asking the same thing we are. But our career is planned without asking us. Ha.

I had some pictures made the other day, but they were terrible, so I will have to try again before I can send any. I have planned another cross country trek. Maybe I can get a few pictures along the way. This one is to be ten miles further than the last one, and it took three days! Of course, since these hikes are of my own free will, I have to take them whenever I can beg, borrow or steal time from the battery duties. So don’t know just when it will be. We want to do a bit of mountain climbing. Guess you could figure out an easier way of breaking your neck, eh? Ha ha. Bob and I plan to go. You remember him, don’t you?

I saw the show “Slightly Dangerous”, you mentioned. I enjoyed it. Also, you should see “Mr. Big”, “DuBarry was a Lady” and “Random Harvest”. They are all worth seeing.

I have not heard from Mama in a couple of weeks of mail calls. I guess she has gone to Alabama. Have you heard? Or do you write to Nancy often?

Well, Dearest, I’ll close for now. Hope with me that whatever happens next, here, will be for the better.

I am yours devotedly,

Raymond Gowen

My Dearest Alice:

I received your letter of July 28, and was surprised to get it so soon.

For awhile, I was a bit distraught. You were writing as if you were going to tell me it was all over. But was I glad to read on to the next paragraph and your assurance that you were not going to do such a thing. Yes, My Love, you must have misinterpreted my letter! I certainly am not under the slightest doubt of your loyalty and love. When I read the first part of that letter, it would have been easy to destroy it and not finish it. For I was expecting by far a different end to it. I felt something of the torture that I would go through if we were to part. So I was very glad to find a good ending. Dearest, you had me scared for a while. I don’t know what I had in that letter, for it was written in an emotional strain, but, believe me, if it sounded as you interpreted it, I must have been insane. For I do trust you and love you dearly. I can assure you that no one stands between us. No one can love as I love you, and have any doubts. You have it in your power to make me the most miserable person, but I don’t believe you would. No, to believe you would cease caring, I would have to see you face-to-face and read the expression in your eyes as you said you no longer cared. And as long as you care the least, you will never be disloyal. Loyalty is a part of you, just as much a part as your eyes or your hair.

You said you had been ill. I hope you are well by now. Are you working too hard, my Darling? Slow up. Life is too short for that.

This is all the paper I have with me, so I must bring it to a close for tonight, or rather this morning, for the midnight hour is long past. So til the next time, remember I love you devotedly. You are my life.

-Shorty

My Dearest:

Received your letter just before going on guard tonight and it kept me warm in the cold rain. My blood was running hot. Seriously, though, I was very glad and happy about it; since it was so much sweeter and encouraging, as well as reassuring, than the previous one which was so matter-of-fact and different from the way you usually write. And, my Dear, the picture was just too good to be true. It seems I’ve just been talking to you.

When I read your account of that night at the lake by the air port, I’ll admit my throat contracted and I had to get off that train of thought. I can think of you just so long and recall just so many memories and then I have to get off the line of thought. If I didn’t I would soon be cursing Alaska and saying I couldn’t stay here any longer. And that will never work; for we both know I will stay here longer because I have to. It is you that makes this place so lonely; yet it is you that makes it bearable. Or rather, my memories of you. When it seems most unbearable, I think of you and build dreams of what our dreams come true will be like. When I think of you, the ocean seems wider, and days longer. For, Darling, you can never guess how I long for just one look at you, or the yearning that gnaws at me day and night. It is made bearable by the thought that it is my duty to stay here, or wherever I may be sent. And that you would expect me to be loyal to that duty.

Maybe, My Love, you have wondered if I am so loyal to duty, why have I not advanced. I can’t explain it all. But they once chose between me and the fellow that works side by side with me. Since it was a draw, and my partner had more service than I, he got the corporals rating, and rightly so. But twice in the past week I have refused to accept the same rating. All I would have to do is move my bunk about thirty yards and become a communication corporal. Though it would mean a little more money, and money that we could use for that “little white house,” I can’t accept it. I’ll stay a private for the duration or be fair in accepting anything else. To accept, I would have to transfer to another battery. Every man in that battery is my friend. There are men there who want that rating. So you see, if I should transfer to it, every man in that battery would be my enemy. And they would be justified. So, I guess, you will just have to bear along with a private until such time that a rating opens up in my own section and my own battery. Do you agree with me?

Dear, you said for me to keep on smiling for you. Goodness only knows how I’ve tried. I’ve done so even when I felt there was no more laugh left in me. There is so much loneliness here that I try to keep mine camouflaged. Ha. A fellow told me the other day that if my morale broke, it would be the end beyond a doubt. Poor guy, if he could have seen behind the veneer that covered my sad and weary thoughts, how different he would have talked. Keeping my troubles to my self and sharing theirs is all I can do for them. It isn’t that we don’t have morale, far from it! I guess we have about the best out. It’s just that some days seem to be so long and lonely, but other days we are crazy enough to be happy here.

I told you in my last letter, of which I’ve lost count of the days since I wrote it, that I was pretty busy and that it would be over and done with the next day. But, alas, for me, it ended today at three P.M. So I’m burning midnight oil to write this letter.

My Darling, the sleepier I write, the longer I get. So I shall close for now.

May God bless the girl I love,

Yours always,

Raymond

Alice, My Dear:

I received your letter of July 18th, and it sounds as if you must have been very tired, or sleepy or maybe the hot weather is getting you. At any rate, the letter has taken on an unprecedented tone. Dearie, don’t let war nerves or anything else worry you. It does no good.

I have been rather on the busy side lately. You could probably tell that by the way my letters have been. But, if all goes as expected, I will be back at routine duty after a few more days. Then I can catch up on my lost sleep. So until such time comes that I can get back in the groove, please excuse my very poor letters. I am sure you understand how it is, sometimes. A letter written under strain may as well be left unwritten. But I will, at least, try to write you and mama regularly, regardless. I have so many letters here that have accumulated that I’m going to have to call “time out” some day and answer. I have as high as three letters from the same person and all unanswered. Shame on me. Ha.

But, hard as it is to believe, and far away as it seems, this will all end someday. Then I can tell you everything. We can be together, forever, you for me and me for you. We will have that little house under the trees behind the white picket fence, and no black outs. Little Alice II won’t have to worry about ration stamps and rented rooms, and our only fear will be of God. There will be no rushing through life and dreading tomorrow. No hash house meals, for you will be my mess sergeant, cook, and all. Ah, if I could just once sit me down at a table prepared by you alone, it would be enough to ask of life.

Excuse the short letter. Another one soon. Also excuse stamp. I haven’t one right now.

Love always,

Raymond

My Dearest Alice:

Received your three letters of July the 2nd, 7th, + 10th. Was very glad and excited since it had been so long since I’d had any mail. The pictures were wonderful and no little enjoyment and pleasure for me. I just sat and drank in your loveliness. They caused quite a few nice compliments among the fellows here. They were all just tops, but the best one (and everyone who saw them agreed with me) was the one where you were standing by the flowers in the white dress. Or rather it appeared white in the picture. But I bet it’s blue. The two where you were wearing hats were next best. I’m glad to see they were becoming and sensible, and not a bowl of fruit with a cactus pitched in for good measure. Ha.

My Love, I must admit that I had not told Mama about our reunion. I had told her about you before we disagreed. I knew that I would have to tell her and had been wanting to do so, but could not find the words. I guess I had not seen it as you did. I hoped that maybe I could get to see her and explain it personally. But after reading your letter I knew I had been running away again. I’ve just finished a letter to her, telling her, as you suggested, everything. It was not easy to tell her that Grace and I had been fools enough to plan a marriage on friendship. But I had to tell her that part to make her understand that I do really and truly love you and that it wasn’t a “correspondence affair”. I have told her everything. Mama is a very wise and understanding person. I love her as she does me - devotedly. But I wonder if even she can understand my being such a fool. I am sure you will love her and do hope you two will be great friends. You are the two great loves in my life.

She knows that we disagreed and that I broke off with Grace after I met you and returned to her after I lost you. She knows that it was you that I kept trying to forget, and couldn’t, even as Grace and I planned that foolish alliance. My Dear, I spared myself nothing. It was hard to tell my mother I had been such a fool. But it had to come and if you say it should be now, then that’s how it should be. When you meet her, you will find her to be kind and understanding and sympathetic.

Alice, in your last letter, you mentioned waiting for the picture. It has had ample time to be there, so I guess it got lost. Anyway, I will get another made and send it. But, as you can see. if by chance you have received the last one, they are no good. As I’ve said before, we only have amateur photographers here. There is an enlarging apparatus here and we can get enlargements of a kind. Taking pictures here is no easy job. Usually we have to take them on a cloudy day. Sometimes, under even more appalling conditions.

My Love, you say time seems to pass so slowly - the time we are apart - and I agree. It seems unbearable at times. But I feel very sure that I will come back to you. Don’t ask me why I feel so certain, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I love you so, I just could not die. Maybe it’s because I just have to see Dixie Land and the “Southern Miss” again. But I do feel certain. You are the beginning and end of love for me. You represent moonlit lanes under spreading oaks, rippling waters, everything. In fact, it’s you that makes my world go ‘round. Then you could say “you do believe me, don’t you?”. My Dear, I have never doubted a word you say. Some day I’ll prove it. I must close now. Will write again soon.

Yours - heart + soul,

Raymond (Shorty) Gowen

Note: this letter was written before the one posted yesterday, which is dated July 21, 1943, but they were both postmarked July 22, 1943 so I just discovered that when I took it out to transcribe it.

My Darling Alice:

I haven’t felt so far from home and familiar places and faces in a long time as I have today. All day you have been on my mind along with so many other thoughts. I tried twice to write today, but it trailed out into nothing and I destroyed the unfinished letters. I’ve been very homesick and lonely, despite the fact I’ve had very little time when there wasn’t a crowd around me.

I know it is bad to let thoughts of home and loved ones get too much of a hold on you. I usually try to prevent it. But today was one of those days that it couldn’t be controlled; when all bars and guard are slacked and I feel very alone. Do you remember how I used to hate western plays, with all their melodrama? Well, today I saw one. Or rather sat through one. Instead of seeing the characters on the screen, I was seeing another set of characters. I even now see Dee as we used to mount “Smokey” and “Prince” to ride fifteen miles to say hello to his friends at Antioch. Or the times I used to saddle “Queenie”, my favorite, and the queen of the herd at home, to ride eight or ten miles under pretense of getting some books. And all the time knowing it was because I wanted to ride like wild wind and she was the only one of the bunch that never seemed to grow tired. Again I see the woods and trails we so often followed. Especially the woods. I loved them so much. Remember one night we, you and I, were going down a moonlit road; and you showed me a large oak tree that you and Frances used to go to and talk over your days activities. I still see the tree and still today wonder what you talked about. If my name was mentioned in that chosen rendezvous. It was near that same place that we said our last goodbye, officially, remember? There are so many other things I remember about that night, too.

As I’ve said, I’ve also had many other thoughts today. As you may already know, Roielee is back in Texas and Dee is in Alaska. I don’t know where he is, yet. But I am very unhappy about the whole thing. Yes, I am afraid. Not for me, but for Dee. I can’t say much more and stay in limits of censor regulations, but if anything should happen to Dee, a part of me would die. He is more than a brother to me. He is a real friend as well. If only I could know where he is, it would be of some help. But I must keep wondering. He says “for a long time.” I think I could laugh at death, my own, but not his. My prayers are that he is not going where I think he eventually will.

I suppose this letter has not been a happy sounding one. I just had to say something to someone and this is one way of saying it. But I am not so unhappy as it may seem. For I still have hope that this war’ll end someday. All of us will return and you and I can carry on where we left off, and carry out that long hoped for marriage. I am keeping the ration book you sent me in anticipation of the great day that I return to civilization.

Darling, it’s getting late and I must rise about 5:30 in the morning so I better hit the hay.

I love you and miss you more than words can say.

Yours forever,

Shorty

My Dear Alice:

Will try to write a few lines, tho I have a terrible headache. But I have been so negligent, I must write anyway. Besides, I have a rugged time coming up tomorrow. With the noise and all that I will go through, I’ll probably have a worse headache.

But through it all, my Darling, I do not forget you. You are there just the same as always. There may be days when I can’t write, but never a day that I can’t think of you and miss you, long for you, and make air castles. And the more I miss you, (which grows steadily worse) the more I know you must miss me. You will keep waiting though, My Dear, of that I have no doubt. I can only wonder how long you will have to. I keep being foolish enough to hope that some day, out of a clear sky, they will tell me I can come back to you.

There has been no mail in a long time, but I have not despaired, yet. But how welcome mail would be at this time. I wonder where Dee is and where Neal has gone and so many things. But we just have to keep waiting and saying “Maybe tomorrow.”

My Darling, you have said you would not doubt me anymore. I am sorry I can’t write every day, but that is the case. So when you are beginning to think you are never going to hear from me again, just keep saying you will not despair, that I do love you and miss you, and that, in time I will write. I will explain it all when I see you again. Meantime, just keep believing in me. I need your faith and love.

Please forgive the short letter, I’ll try to write more soon.

Your devoted,

Shorty

P.S. Didn’t Jewell and Sam Speed ever get married? I was so sure they would. Sam is a great guy.

My Dearest Alice:

I wrote, or at least attempted to write, a few days ago. I don’t know what I wrote. I was terribly short of sleep.

Tonight, it’s just the opposite, I’ve been off duty since 6 P.M., it’s almost ten, I have to get up at six and I am still not sleepy. The truth is that I have been looking at your photograph and day dreaming of you until I am unable to sleep. I’ve visioned our next meeting too often to count. You seem to be everywhere. All day I think of you and at night I dream of you. Sometimes it is maddening and seems that I cannot bear to stay away from you and retain my sanity. But I try your own remedy; look at the better side, and surprisingly enough, I do stay cheerful most of the time. At least outwardly I do. But that terrible, bittersweet turmoil in my heart gets gloriously painful. You’ll probably have to wear a suit of armor for that first embrace, for I feel that you will be unsafe in that embrace.

Darling, I have been in deep thought and not all of them are good. Today, I was called to face another fellow’s heartbreak. He came to me, probably because he needed sympathy or just simply because he had to talk. I’d known for a good while that it was apt to happen and had wished that when the time came, I could help him some way. But when he told me, I could not do so. Only sympathize. His wife was unfaithful, and bears another man’s child. I even wished then that he could hate her, but he doesn’t. Maybe men are fools, but it’s just that way. They go on caring when they shouldn’t. It so happened, anyway, that I knew what he was going through and tried to think what I would do. But I couldn’t imagine, for I thought “what if you were to let me down.” And realized I couldn’t use that for an example. First, you would not let me down. Besides, I could not tell the poor guy to go to some quiet place and die. For that seemed to be the only solution to the problem of “what would I do?” I even tried to tell him to concentrate on other thoughts and when he got back to civilization, he’d soon forget. But it rang hollow in my own ears. I knew it wasn’t true, because I knew, (and who would know better than I?) that he would not forget. Darling, I know I’m not much to love and wait for. And sometime you may even grow tired of doing so. If you do or should meet someone else, don’t let me stand in your way. But, my Love, don’t do as his wife did and try to conceal the fact until someone else has to tell it. Be your own sweet, frank self and tell me then. Don’t try to hide the truth until “after the war.” For one reason, it would show in the tone of your letter. Besides, I’d rather lose you than the faith and trust I have in you as well.

I guess you have heard that Dee is prepared to go overseas? And to make it worse, he is going to colder climates. I’m hoping I’ll see him, but I doubt it.

How is the brother in Mississippi? Any hint of leaving the States, yet? Neil is on the move. Destination unknown.

Well, Darling, they are about to turn out the lights, so I will close. All my love and devotion for you.

Forever your,

Shorty

Alice, Darling:

Received your letters of June 5 and 10th, as well as the card. Maybe I’m just plain sentimental, but that was one of the sweetest verses I ever read. I also like to believe it was heartfelt on your part. And I do believe it.

When you began that letter, you did not expect an answer of your question you asked about how the letter would find me, but I’ll tell you anyway. I’m lonely almost to being miserable. Yet I am happy in a way. Being away from you only increases my love for you and it has grown to be hard to bear. That is, it is hard to stay away and gets steadily harder to forget you long enough to keep my mind on my work. I never knew anyone could ever mean so much to me.

Dear one, how I do wish your dream would come true. But of course, there would be a different ending. I was also thankful for the “crystal gazer’s” defense on my behalf. Yes, Dear, I know the part concerning me is true. And you say she told you other truths. How they do it, I’ll probably never know, but don’t believe in them too strongly. I have read too much on them. I even had a friend in the show business who told me they were the greatest fakes on earth. The only trouble with going to them is that they will make a believer out of you and then drain your purse. I went to one, out of fun, and she said I’d meet you in Sulphur Springs. As you know was true. She even said we would have trouble at first, but in the outcome we would be married and have a long, happy life together. They agree on that part. So do we and we will make their prophecy come true. They would both probably be very surprised to know their predictions came true. Ha.

My Darling, you must have the memory of an elephant. I didn’t think I even told you my birthday. Yes, it is June 29th. And day after tomorrow, I will be one quarter century old. I have not received the picture yet, but I am anxiously awaiting tomorrow. There is a possibility we will get mail; and if we do, I’m sure your picture will be in it. I’m practically in a fever from reading your letters and seeing the pictures of you that I have here. If this one should be any better, I’ll probably be a sick man.

By the way, the propaganda letters have ceased. Only those two and I’ve heard no more. And just as they were getting good, too. Ha. I wish they would start again; so I could read the next installment. Ha ha. I don’t believe, however, that it was the notorious Mister X of the West unless he had gotten someone else to mail them for him. They came from different places and in different handwriting. I’m sure it wasn’t any of my closer friends or they would have known I wouldn’t believe them. Besides, I had previously received a letter from one of my friends praising you and in absolute contradiction to the other two.

I like the idea of “two children and someday our own home.” How often I have imagined that. And the home, I hope will be a cozy little place, set behind a big lawn, flowers, and trees. (Lots and lots of trees). There will be a white picket fence around it, and it will be out of town. There is so much I have envisioned and imagined and you will reign as a queen on her throne. (Oops, there I go again, and you told me you didn’t want a throne. Ha.). Very well, then, you shall reign as a wife cherished and loved until (and after) your hair has turned to gray. And our two children (what? three? well, not more than four) shall have plenty of room to play and live in the sun. They shall learn the beauty of nature. I hope no child of mine ever asks me questions I have been asked here by grown men. Such as: Do peanuts grow on trees? What is a baby cow called? They even ask what cotton looks like and what magnolia trees are like. How can you tell one snake from another, etc. ‘Tis disgusting.

Well, my love, I’m out of paper and the PX is closed. So will close. May God be with you My Darling.

Love,

Shorty