Saturday, June 13, 1942We are processed and loaded on a train this hot Texas summer morning. We are eastward-bound to Camp Edwards, Massachusetts, located about 65 miles south of Boston. The trip is a long one; over 1,600 miles. Our basic training is completed,we are soldiers now. [courtesy: www.maps.com]
Post card of the Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas, "Where American Drinks Its Way To Health," sent to my mother: "Dear Folkes, We are eateing dinner now in the Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells. Hope every thing is ok at home. Howard"
Friday, June 14, 1942
Post card from the Southern Hotel in El Reno, Oklahoma, sent to my mother: "Dear Folkes, We just had breakfast here in this town at this hotel. Your Son, Howard"
Wednesday, Jun
e 17, 1942After four days by train, we arrive at Camp Edwards, Massachusetts. We are processed and I am assigned to 1st Engineer Amphibian Brigade, 591st Engineer Boat Regiment, 2nd Battalion, Company E.
A post card of the division headquarters at Camp Edwards as it looked while I was stationed there.
WAR UPDATE: June 21, 1942. German General Rommel's troops capture city of Tobruk, located in North Africa.
July 1942
WAR UPDATE: JULY 1, 1942. First battle of El Alamein begins in North Africa.
We have learned we will become amphibious troops. We will undergo intense training for the next six weeks before deploying overseas. We do not know our destination.
Training on Washburn Island, Massachusetts, a division of Camp Edwards. We are training for an amphibious assault, learning how to quickly and effectively establish a beach head. The training is intense and difficult during the hot summer months (courtesy: www.mass.gov).
The beaches of Washburn Island as they appear today. The landing craft have been replaced by fishing boats. (courtesy: www.boston.com)
True Story: We had a very shy man with a quiet voice in our company. One day we were told to police the company area. We would line up abreast and pick up cigarette butts, match stems, etc. In that soft, whiney voice he said, 'I've picked up four thousand of these damned things and I don't even smoke.'
True Story: This same guy one day in the chow line, walked up to the mess tent, looked in the kettle and said, 'What have you got?' The cook answered, 'Same shit.' The guy replied, 'Well... give me some.'
I hand-copied this poem, "Life of a Soldier," written by a fellow soldier going through training at Camp Edwards at the same time I was there (click on letter to read - letter is in two parts. WARNING: May contain language offensive to some).
This photo was taken while still in the States in 1942. My buddy Walen is on the right. He never came home.
1 comment:
This is great stuff Sam. I find it interesting that in the correspondence that there is no zip code --- but I think that this is before the US started implementing zip code.
Thanks for posting all of this.
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