Oct. 6, 1942 - Dear Audrey

Jan Palson

06 Oct 2026 — 5 min read

The Boston Globe - Read more about it and support this work: Newspapers.com

Morale is a “rubberish” word.

They've been keeping him busy so he missed getting a letter out yesterday. He had to sneak out for a mission to Nahant. Good work on the gas but think good thoughts for tires. Damn this war. He might not have the highest opinion of the Army right now. Not that he ever has. ASSIFIED. He's entered the "make words up" phase. It'll be a while before the next pass. And he'll be writing to Amelia – what did we decide??? Stay tuned.

Original Letter

Transcript follows.

Transcript

For some context, War Updates follow the transcript. It includes the front pages of The Daily Evening Item from Lynn, Massachusetts (local to Fort Ruckman) and Mom's local Connecticut paper the Hartford Courant for additional news, plus the Women's Page so you're up on the latest recipes and styles, especially hats!

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

October 6, 1942

Dear Audrey:

Well I missed a night but I have a good excuse. They put me on guard last night right after chow and so I couldn’t write and today they have had me in the kitchen all day. They haven’t had the chance to put me on these things before but now they are really going out of their way to keep me busy. I realize there aren’t enough men to take care of all the jobs around here but never-the-less I think they carry things too far. After a fellow stands four hours of guard he should have at least eight hours rest but there isn’t much chance of that around here. I sure miss that job I had and I’ll probably miss it more and more. Morale is a “rubberish” word. It stretches to fit any and all situations. Right now mine is lower than a snake’s belly and I have had only three days of this assified life (I just made that word up and it is a good word too). Pity the poor lad who has had a steady diet of it for months and months.

Without going into details of what happens every half hour, I can say this is the real Army life, the morale pusher, the discipline builder, and I say it is a assified life. And you can put this on the record, it is a farce – the bunk. I haven’t reached the end of the rope or anything like that, but I am peeved and a little disgusted. And it does not make me feel any better when I think of the future which looks none too bright. I did manage to sneak over to the Town Hall in Nahant for an hour this afternoon for a chat with the local rationeer. We can get some more gas but no tires and definitely not. I suppose as you say what good is the gas without the tires to run on but I am still hanging onto the slim possibility that I might be able to wrangle some tires out of my relations. When I say “sneak”, I mean sneak because that is what I had to do. I got out of the kitchen and changed my clothes and slipped out of the gate that the trucks use and then came back the same way. On the way over I saw a jeep coming up the road and so I ducked into the woods. My conscience was bothering me. It is going to be a long time until I see you. Just think they are going to keep me away from you for over three weeks and that is such a long time for me to be away from you.

I miss you something terribly. I will be glad when we have a place of our own. I don’t feel right in that trailer and I know you don’t. Are you sure you will like living in the trailer this winter? I am not a very good husband to you and I want so much for you to be happy or at least satisfied and of course, without me. I haven’t written the letter to Amelia and I hesitate because of you. I love you from my dirty toe-nails to the top of the hairbrush that passes as hair. (that is corny) The wind is trying to blow the barracks over and it seems as if it might succeed because it is plenty strong. I hope I can stay in my little bunk tonight. I’ll write to Amelia soon and tell them what we decided. It is just that I want to do so much for you and I can’t do anything. You deserve everything. We’ll get along somehow won’t we darling? I love you.

All my love

Leonard

War Updates

The Lynn Daily Evening Item

If they came to your house hunting for scrap metal, what would you give them?? One guy is giving up a leg so top that. Either curbing hours or going dry, Lynn wants to drive "all forms of vice out of the city". Let's see how that goes.

Read more about it and support this work: Newspapers.com

Meanwhile in Hartford...

Yes, there will be a "figure-control" authority at the Homemakers School. That's so 1942. I had to look up the word: strafed. It's to attack ground targets with machine-gun fire or bombs from a low-flying aircraft.

The Women's Page for Mom

A man asks Dorothy Dix about marriage unhappiness. Don't worry, she won't blame him. Our wartime fashion must include a hat, there's always a hat. More meat-less recipes since meat is in short supply. Grape butter???