Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/o PM SF Cal
14 September 1944
It usually happens this way that when I do not write a letter during the noon hour, I don't get around to writing the pair of them until sometime in the very late hours of the night. As much as I dislike this staying up late business, I find myself falling back into the habit this last week or so and beginning tomorrow evening it is going to cease. The reason I did not write a letter at noon was because the laundry came back this morning and it was during the noon hour that we went thru the job of separating it. Then we had word that a general or somebody might chance in and look our area over so we had to tidy up the barracks and finally, it began raining so hard that it was the line of least resistance to remain down there in the barracks until it let up rather than come thru the thick of it just to get up to the office.
But the reason why I have begun so late this evening is another matter altogether. For one thing, I never do write or do anything (If I can help it) during the hour from four to five and today was no exception to the rule since I did nothing buy lay on my bunk and doze off a bit before chow time. But it was at the mess hall where I began whiling away my evening. I got into a discussion of the end of the war with Kendall Taylor, one of the old boys from away back at Camp White, and we both were very pessimistic about the whole situation and cried on each other's shoulders until about quarter to six. Then I went outside the mess hall with the intention of bringing my mess gear back up to the barracks but ran into Morris Edward Mersing and chewed the fat with him for another half an hour or more.
It was quite late before I did get up to the office but once arriving there, I began talking over the situation in Chicago with My Souse-Side friend, Andrew Mathis. Between talking to him about the good old days, listening to the radio and acting the part of a car hop or car jockey, the evening pretty well deteriorated before I could do anything with it. This car jockey business is in line with what I have previously spoken of when the officers go to their quarters and take us along so that we can ride on down to the Motor Pool, pick up another driver and return to the office where we turn over the car to them for the night.
Tonight saw the third of the three successive nights of mystery stories over the air at 8:30. This time it was Peter Lorrie in an ironic murder in which Lorrie murders a second man thinking to quiet his tongue from blabbing about the first murder. Just after he kills that man, the first man walks in and he isn't dead after all; so Peter Lorrie became a murderer for nothing. These murder mysteries or fantastic crime stories are mighty economical with the cast of characters. Tonight's drama had four people, last night's had three and the night before there were but five.
Two fellow from the 353rd have been around visiting today. They are Walston (he used to be the Company Clerk in Company F back in Camp White) and Poutsch (he worked in Headquarters and comes from Wisconsin) came here on a three day pass. The island they are on has allowed men with more than twelve months overseas to take a three day pass to any island in the vicinity. I wish we could get that opportunity although I hardly think that Jack and I could both leave the office together.
The mail situation today was okay. Your two letters from last Thursday, the 7th, arrived today. Anita is having a lot more trouble with moving into her house than Myrtle and Mrs. Reed had moving into theirs, isn't she? With Rosana beginning kindergarten this year, it will mean that more than likely before I get back home on furlough, rotation, discharge or anything, she will be one of those lanky legged grammar school girls.
With the war probably going to last another two years, I don't see how George can miss becoming a Captain. He just isn't the sort of kind of guy to be content with anything he has and nothing will settle him down. What is burning my curiosity is how Tommy is making out. I have no address to which I can write to except the school from which he graduated. I'll have to give it a try one of these days.
I received one of the most peculiar bawling outs today you ever heard of and just four minutes before that I received a compliment from the same man. That is from Lt. Suiter. He asked me to type up some letters to book publishers finding out about the possibility of receiving or buying books for our Battalion Library and told me to use my discretion on selecting the publishers since I was probably familiar with the best publishing companies as he imagined that I did quite a bit of reading in civilian life. Then he came around asking me if I turned in the ball scores from our battalion into the Bulldozer. I told him that he had asked the clerks to turn in the write-ups to me and I merely took what they gave me and sent it on in without bothering to look at it. It so happened all the ball scores weren't there. Then he hops on me that that should be a Standard Operation Procedure that I receive the ball scores from the clerks each week. To my idea that isn't part of the reporters job since Dock Haley has never in the past year and a half required his reporters to be responsible for getting in the sports news from the company but rather has usually asked us for one of the player's names and he himself gets the first hand story. Anyhow, that is the way it stands, the four clerks and I got a scolding for not doing that. Meanwhile Jack never gets told about what news to put in the paper. Either they overlook him as being the older reporter or something but I always get it. Back in the 353rd no one gave two hoots about how the reporters and the editors worked together and Haley still doesn't see anything wrong although our Lt. does. What shall I chalk it up to? Just the way things are?
By now you must realize just how the pay situation worked out in that twenty bucks each month was being slated away with neither you nor I getting it. I believe that I told you about the situation on more than one occasion although I didn't mention each month that the situation still existed. Incidentally, another communication came in on the allowance although this one doesn't clarify anything. The letter I wrote came back (the one asking for an investigation to be made) and an indorsement on it says that they were sending you the affidavits and all that all over again. It was dated the 9th of August and now I'm wondering what the date was on that other thing they sent last week. Maybe the whole thing is mixed up good and if I hadn't written that last letter, everything would have turned out okay. Tomorrow morning, I'll be able to look up that letter in the correspondence file and find out whether the application was approved after the 9th of August or not. In about ten days or so I expect to receive a letter from both you and the War Department: one saying that you are getting the money and the other saying that the money is being sent out and that everything is now copasetic.
And another thing, I don't know where you are getting your figures from but a Cpl gets $79.20 overseas while a Sgt gets $93.60 overseas. In that or those ranks back in the States a person gets $66 and $78 respectively. In other words back in the States a Sgt gets less than a Cpl overseas. If we were speaking by the week, that would be darn good pay in civilian life but seeing as how it is the army we are talking about, it is fairly decent even by the month.
Today I really earned every bit of the dough for I worked from dawn to dusk (7:00 to 4:00) and accomplished almost all that I intended to do in that period. Tomorrow will also be another busy day. Did I tell you that the Orientation and Retreat has been called off for the morrow? And that for a whole month, we may not need to go to either of those things. Eureka, Utopia is here at last. Without those things to bother our week ends, the Army will become just that much more of a nicer place. And the inspections have cut down too. The only trouble is that these lulls are only giving a false sense of good feeling since things will get tough again and will seem only that much worse and the Army in general will be in for a lot more cursing from my lips.
That is all for tonight or is it tomorrow morning yet?
So-long, /s/ Roman Roman