Alice and Shorty

My Dearest Alice:

Here I sit on this lonely Sunday afternoon, on duty, trying to write letters in between calls. I suppose you are going to be furious with me for not writing, but, as usual, I have an excuse. I suppose you are beginning to get tired of my excuses, but it is true, My Dear, that I have just returned from a very long stay in the hills. I went out to stay three days and on my return I was intercepted and given duties that were to keep me in the hills for another three days. I walked about thirty miles the first day I was out there. I climbed mountains, waded water, and walked over the roughest terrain in general that you could ever imagine. 

You remember Bob Koch, don’t you? Well, he and I were together. Twice we came face to face with a bear. I guess I was supposed to be the one to get frightened, but when that bear saw this face of mine, he just turned and fled. I guess it was a shock to him to see such a face; so from then on I felt that my face was my fortune and I was no longer afraid of the animals.

The hike itself was alright, but when they intercepted me to tell me to prolong the trip, the guy that delivered the message told me about your letter being inc amp and so the days, naturally, began to stretch out until I could return. So when I finally got the word to come in, I was so anxious to return that I waded that cold Alaskan water to make a short cut. And if that seems silly to you, you should see some of the other things I do to get your letters. It is the closest thing to seeing you that is possible here and I can not think of anything more pleasing than to see you. When by chance the mail does not contain one of your letters, it seems that the whole United States has let me down.

I thought for awhile that I may get out of here and may even by some weird chance get back to the States before the end of the Duration, but I have about decided that is only a pipe dream and that I will be here when the Armistice is signed. But regardless of whether I see you or not, I will still be continually thinking of you.

I took quite a few pictures while I was out in the hills, but die to the fact that they contain some scenery that can not go through the mail, I will not be able to send them to you. But I will keep them to show you when and if I ever return. However, I do have some here that will get through the mail and I will enclose them. I have not had the enlargement made yet. I am trying to get a shot suitable for that. It is hard to get one that will work. As I have told you before, we only have amateur photographers here and they have to have a certain type to fix up a good enlargement.

Yes, when I first looked at your picture with the soldier’s hat on, I did wonder for just a minute. But I was so sure you would have on explanation on the back that I looked there before I hardly looked the picture over. Some of the fellows tell me that I am foolish to put all my eggs in one basket as I am doing, but I am so sure that you are the one for me that if I knew I was going to get hurt, I would still do it, for even if I should lose you, the time that I can call you mine will ever be a pleasant memory to me. I am not afraid of losing you, however. For I know that if you did not love me, you would not hesitate a minute to tell me so. So I just laugh when I am told that I am building up for a great fall.

Darling, you said if you could put what you want to on paper as I do that you would not mind letter writing as much. But little do you know that I do not put what I want to on paper. It can not be done. Of course what I put on paper, I feel, but I do not put all that I feel on paper. Maybe sooner than any of us expected we will all see each other and then will you know what to think of me. Maybe I have changed, but if I have, I assure you that it is for the better. I have tried to be the things that you said were lacking in me. If we ever have another parting, it will not be my neglect. For I intend to spend the rest of my life just trying to make you happy. 

[approximate one inch section physically cut from letter by censor]

I must close for now, I have so many letters to get in the mail. I will write again in a few days. I have three of your letters here that I have not answered. They all got classed among the lot that collected up while I was in preparation for the journey into the hills. I will try to get them all answered in a day or so. 

I love you truly,

Shorty

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