June 28, 1944 From Bill to his wife. Letter 2 of 6.
In this blistering June 1944 letter, Navy serviceman Bill sweats through tax advice, military chow duty, and an impending obstacle course all while dreaming of cooler days, clean clothes, and the moment he can finally come home.
It’s a gritty, heartfelt snapshot of wartime life told with the kind of honesty only 100-degree heat can bring.
Letter 2 of 6 from Bill to his wife.
Hi hon—
Boy is it hot! I’m sweating pickles just sitting here writing this letter. I don’t know how everybody’s going to keep this up in the heat.
About that tax bill, if it’s addressed to us, you and me, pay it. Next time you’re in Ashby on a Wednesday nite take the bill down stairs under the library and pay Saco. It don’t have to be paid in two installments, only get paid before Oct. 1 because we’ll have to pay interest on it from then on. That bill is for the barn and all the property on our side. Next get the valuation on the house that we live in and pay just the taxes on our house only. I don’t know what they’ll value the house for, but just for an example say they value it at $1200 and the tax rate is $25 per thousand then you’ll have to pay an additional $30. Pay it up when you get the Simonds Bonus. I don’t think it should be much more than $60.
After you get approximately what we owe, send the figures to me before you pay it if you want to pay it before I get on leave. Everything will be O.K.
Boy I wish I could get the hell out of here for I’m getting disgusted more day by day. Tomorrow we start our work in the mess hall and Christ only knows what they have in store for us there. It’s hot up there and you know how I sweat. I’ll be ringing wet by night and we have to work until 5 or 9 and sometimes 10 and that don’t give us anything to wash our clothes and the worst of it all we have to wear whites.
Well got to close now because it gets late and we have to run the obstacle course at one o’clock. Imagine running that in this heat. Well, remember I love and am waiting anxiously for the day when I can come home.
Will write tomorrow.
Love, Bill