October 19, 1944: St. John’s Gossip

Letter from Opa to Grandmother, October 19, 1944

October 19, 1944

My dearest little Honeybunch,

I ought to, and do, feel quite a bit better today, and am suffering of no other illness but my persistent, chronical ailment: laziness. There are times when I think there really are some advantages in our being separated; one of these times is when I imagine your body in my sweater. The trouble with baggy sweaters is that they bring out the dullest parts of a girl’s figure while hiding the most interesting ones. No wonder, thus, those old maids in your faculty club think it’s cute. (While I am in the griping mood, please remind me to give you some spelling lessons after I get out of dis hear ahmie.)

Talking about griping, something most interesting happened today during drill. While we were in company formation, one of our moron lieutenants kept calling us “platoon.” I took it for a while, but when he said it again, I spoke up and said “company, Sir.” His face changed from white to red and back again, then he called me out and gave me a nice little lecture on the respect a private owes to a superior officer as well as the insinuation that there is such a thing as permanent K.P. in the army. All this was done in the pleasant tone of voice which reminded me very favorably of Mr. Zimmerman’s (I am certainly glad that in saluting, we are saluting the uniform, not the guy in it.)

            

Some bad news: In an orientation lecture, we were informed about our chances after basic and other training: practically 100% of us will go overseas and about 95% of those into combat zones around Japan. Radio men especially are needed in the Pacific, while in Europe there is an excess of them. Also, none of us will be likely to be discharged until one year after the end of the Japanese war, at least. They may have just been scaring us, but I am afraid they were correct. Nice prospects, huh?

            

Johnny and I had a good time tonight, playing pingpong and shooting the bull. I am afraid the poor guy is mighty tired hearing about you all the time, for you are still my most persistent topic of conversation. It is really bad; when I am without you, I talk about you all the time; when I am with you, you talk all the time.

            

Philip went home last night to the Great Bend. That’s only about 15 miles from St. John; I hope he hears no gossip…

            

My mind is wandering today, it just won’t stay put. The idea of going overseas before long makes me so much more lonesome for you. In spite of everything, though: the greatest part of our lives we will spend together. 

 

Forever yours, 

Tom

Ohhh yeah! St. John’s! That’s where Opa was arrested for allegedly being a “peeping Tom.” I wonder if Grandmother and Opa told anyone. I would bet they did not. Maybe a close friend? Did Grandmother’s parents know? Is that why they didn’t go to the wedding? 

Remember Phillip is Grandmother’s brother. So if he didn’t know… my guess is it was their little secret (that I unveiled 70 years later). Luckily Opa had about 50 years to establish his character before I found out - and I assumed the accusation was unfounded and potentially ill-motivated.

Another thing Opa established (and passed down) was a stubborn penchant for fact-checking (and spell-checking), regardless of the authority or position of the person being checked. I’ve learned better - I think he learned better. Not sure my Dad ever learned. I do still spell check but never a relative if they don’t ask! Poor Grandmother. And yet, Opa pulls out this sweet quote in the end: “In spite of everything, though: the greatest part of our lives we will spend together.”

A sweet sentiment in the face of a long separation. And you know what? He was right.