August 15, 1942 - Dear Audrey

Jan Palson

15 Aug 2026 — 6 min read

Big Guns! Casemated 12-inch gun at Fort Ruckman. Source: Wikipedia

This is sort of a new guard detail.

He's got a new task. A comfortable dug out. Plus an update on the shipwreck. I wonder if this falls under the category of "idle gossip that sinks ships". But how else is he going to fill up the pages. I'm surprised they didn't call a battle alert. And no worries, nothing like a little Joe Main Jr is going to happen.

Original Letter

Transcript follows.

Transcript

For some context, War Updates follow the transcript. It includes front pages from The Daily Evening Item from Lynn, MA. (local to Fort Ruckman) and Mom's local Connecticut paper the Hartford Courant, plus the Women's Page.

Research, learn, and support this work. Go to: Newspapers.com

August 15, 1942

Bat H - 9^th C.A., Fort Ruckman

Dear Audrey:

I don’t see why I am writing this letter because I have nothing to say. Absolutely nothing has happened since this morning and I am so tired I can’t think of anything worthwhile. We’ve got a new system and in the changeover, I got the worst end. In the past two nights I’ve only had three to four hours each night. I was supposed to come on at 4 o’clock this morning but I overslept fifteen minutes, and so I can’t seem to remember whether the lad, who is supposed to, woke me up or not. As it turned out all right, no harm was done but it is very easy to run into trouble that way. The fellow I was to relieve just continued as most of the boys would but sometimes you meet a lad who won’t or can’t. Then any excuse you have for being late is only laughed at and you are up to your neck. Well that is insignificant. It doesn’t deserve so much space but I have to have something to write about. This is sort of a new guard detail. I sit in a dug out and man two or three telephones as the case may be. We keep a log of everything the observers at different points see and hear, usually they are airplanes. This dug out is quite comfortable. We have lights, chairs and tables, a radio and when things are quiet we read, study, or write and at night they are quiet. I’ll get fat on this job. Noting to do but sit and hold a telephone to my ear. In fact, here I have a table to write on and over in the barracks all I had was a magazine. Well this dug out and its purpose are a military secret so you will have to act accordingly. If the General knew the things I told my wife he would break a blood vessel. Not only will your letters suffer intimately if my letters are censored but from a lack of news also. I won’t have a great deal to talk on. They will let me say “I love you,” and that’s about all. This way I tell you practically everything from the number of men leaving and the date from this post to the number of times the Major beats his wife up. The lucky stiff. I only wish I could get close enough to you to beat you. I wouldn’t beat you very hard just enough to show you who the boss is and if you already know who is, I wouldn’t beat you again. This morning I wrote you a letter from the beach in a small shack that shelters me from the fog and rain. The ship I wrote about so much was a wreck but from a submarine torpedo.

See there I go, I can’t keep anything from you. One of our beach patrols farther along the shore picked up the bridge (this was early last night and I didn’t see all the wreckage I wrote you about until the next morning) of the ship with someone clinging to it. So they came pretty near calling the entire fort out of bed on a “battle alert”. Well there again is something that should not mean too much but fills up space. It has taken me an hour to go this far and although I didn’t expect to write even this much, I’m still tired. I did not tell you before but Dad has subscribed to the Boston Herald for me and I got the first paper this morning. A lot of fellows are just like me. They would like to read a daily newspaper if they had one and had time. This morning I wrote I expected a letter from you when I got back to camp and sure enough there was one waiting. Thanks for the two dollars. It is too bad I need some things because a hot one at the racetrack is on for tomorrow and two dollars may return me $25 or $50 or nothing but who ever heard of me losing. All you had to do was mention my being a ‘Daddy” and you gave me goose pimples and started me shaking. I had to read the darn thing over. It is because other people have them and I never gave a thought of it happening to me. But I don’t want anything to happen to you. You know most anything could happen and I am way the devil up here and I should be with you. I love you so very much. Elmer said he would like to see a little Joe Main Jr. but I told him nothing like that was going to happen. Since then you have put me to thinking of it and I don’t think I am getting myself accustomed to it, but it is something you have done. I don’t know exactly what you have done but I feel differently now than I did two months ago. You are so nice and soft and I hope you always remain nice and soft but I shall love you always. I will probably love when you tip the scales at 205 and your legs look like hunks of baloney. You are my girl and I want you my girl. I was going to ask you if you went over to Uncle Elmer’s last Thursday? If you did I hope you had a nice time. Well darling I’ll close now. The bugle just blew for reveille and I can hear the whistles and someone hollering, “Let’s go”. I don’t go off until eight o’clock so I’ll do some studying. I brought my “trig” book over with me. As soon as day light begins, business (if you can call this business) starts up. You are a wonderful woman and by marrying me you have made me the happiest guy in the world.

I love you sweet.

Leonard