Conditions of War

In this section, we present letters written by soldiers who describe non-combat situations and the living conditions they experienced.

1944 Naples

First Lieutenant Lucille Backemeyer wrote this letter to her Lincoln friends, Doris and Marv Weber, who were then stationed in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. In her cover note to us, Doris says,

"Lucy was one of two dieticians with the 36th General Hospital in the army medical corps, attached to the Fifth Army. At the time she was on temporary duty in Naples. My husband, Lt. Marvin C. Weber, shipped out shortly after the letter was received. He was with General Patton's Third Army. He made it through the bloody Battle of the Bulge, but was killed in Germany, March 3, 1945, weeks before the end of the war in Europe. We were long-time friends of Lucille's. We attended the same church and all went to school in Murdock, Nebraska. Lucille is now a resident of Fallbrook, California."

July 20, 1944, Naples, Italy
First Lieutenant Lucille Backemeyer

Dear Marv and Dory:

You write the "newsiest" letters I get — wish there were more of them. My own answers to my mail always sound so dull to me. I marvel that any of my friends bother to answer.

Your husband's in a fine division now. Tell him to be proud of it — and if the 20th goes through as much and as well as some of the earlier divisions of the same type that I have known here in Italy, they have a high record to shoot at.

Speaking of hovels and homes, since I have been in the army, I have lived in regulation army barracks; (one and two story types); in pyramidal tents (with and without floors); in and out of mud; in a former insane hospital (part of the patients still there); a French villa with a personal maid; Italian prisoner barracks (with rats); prefabricated houses; a sulfur bath resort; and a bombed-out building with no roof — no beds — no blankets — just the floor and stars (take it back, no stars, that was in the rainy season). My recent acquisition is a transient hotel that I'm helping run. We have either private rooms (only ten to a room) or double rooms (with 18 people sharing the floor space). The outstanding feature about our hotel is that we have bigger and more fleas than anyplace in the city, and that our location is in the center of the most flourishing red-light district!

I have easy access to a large outdoor market, so typical of Italy. I buy a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables for the hotel mess, and seem, as a general rule, to keep the little chicks fairly happy.

It's 11 o'clock, and my bedtime is past due. Long, hard day tomorrow. So good nite.

Love,
Lucy

1945 Nagasaki

Keith B. Lynch wrote this letter home to Crab Orchard, Nebraska from the U.S.S. Ruticulus. The letter was sent from Nagasaki, Kyushu, Japan. His wife Lorraine tells us that her husband passed away on May 9, 1996.

September 23, 1945, Nagasaki, Kyushu, Japan
Keith B. Lynch

USS Ruticulus AK-113
Nagasaki, Kyushu, Japan

Dear Folks:

Here it is Sunday, Holiday Routine again. Boy, does the time fly. It seems as if it were only yesterday that I sat out here topside of the veranda and wrote the last time. We've gotten mail twice this week, and I've my share, eight of them. The last one I got was mailed the 10th of September, the same day we left Okinawa. A letter in twelve days. That's not so bad.

Well, to come to one of the two main topics I am to discuss (like they say in the movies): yesterday I went on my first, and most likely, only liberty in Nagasaki. The crew was divided into six sections, and one went every hour. Each tour lasted two hours. We went to the beach and were put in trucks and given a tour of the city of Nagasaki. First we visited the main part of the city. It wasn't, but is now, as it wasn't hurt so much by the atomic bomb. The only activity you see is people walking, going nowhere, it seems. Just walking.

Now I know what they mean when they say, "a dead city." You remember when I first described the place to you? About the city being in two valleys going at right angles to each other from the harbor, with a string of mountains between them? The smaller of the two, about the same size and five or six times the population of Tecumseh, was the first we visited. It was damaged of course by the concussion of the atomic blast and also by two previous bombings. But the main part of the place, in the other valley, about the size of Lincoln I would say, and five or six times the population, was completely inundated. The sight I saw from the top of the hill, over which it was approximated the center of the blast, was a sight I hope my children, if I am so fortunate, will never have to see, hear of, or ever think of. It was horrible and when you get to thinking, unbelievable.

To think that a thirty-pound bomb the size of a basketball, exploding a thousand feet in the air, could cause such a holocaust was simply unbelievable. I shudder to think what these people underwent when the blast occurred. A blast that literally dissolved their homes, family, friends and any other material thing in the vicinity. A blast that pushed over huge steel structures a mile and a half away as if they were made of blocks. Now I can see what they mean when they say "Dead City." A city with no buildings, no trees, no facilities, and no people. All you see from the top of the hill is a ground covered with bricks, burned wood, twisted and pushed over steel frames of buildings for several miles in each direction. There is nothing for the people of this "Dead City" to do but walk around and think, "What manner of people would do such a thing to us, who are a peaceful, courteous, and civilized people?" I wondered what they thought when they looked at us as we were driving along. "Are these the barbarians who did such a thing to us? What can we expect now that we are at their mercy?" I only wish they could be made to suffer a tenth of the atrocities that they performed on our men whom they held prisoner. People can say these people are simple, ignorant of the facts, or under a spell, but a nation cannot wage war as they have without the backing of the majority of their people.

Such a thing as I saw yesterday cannot be described in words. You have to see it, and I hope no one ever has to see such a thing again.

Well, I found out that my enlistment expires next March. If I get out, then it'll just about be right. Here's hoping. Well, folks, I've got a couple other letters to write before the movie. I'll see if I can't get another letter off before next Sunday.

'Til then,
Love,
Son

1945 Okinawa

Captain Margaret Gaule of Omaha, Nebraska sent this letter to her husband when she was stationed in Okinawa. She tells Nebraska Public Radio,

"I entered the service on November 23, 1941, which was to have been for a year. When Pearl Harbor was bombed, the orders were revoked, and I served for the duration, which turned out to be four and a half years. Three months after I married John, our 27th station hospital left for destination unknown. It turned out to be Okinawa. We were among the first nurses to arrive on the island, and we were soon very busy taking care of the wounded. John and I have been married for 55 years."

May 12, 1945, Okinawa, Japan
Margaret Gaule

My darling Husband,

Honey, I'm writing on duty while we are having a lull in patients, which may not last for but a few minutes. My hours are from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. so that doesn't give me much time to write.

I am really working hard doing just what I have always wanted to do. I wish I could just tell you half of what I have done today. You would really be so proud of me. I'm working with a shock team instead of being in the wards. It is really valuable experience. I don't have to wait for any orders from the doctors, but just go right ahead giving blood, plasma, penicillin, morphine, etc. Already I have received many compliments, so I feel kind of proud today. These patients are brought right from the aid station, so I'm the first nurse they see. You should see the look on their faces when they see a nurse. Tonight one of the fellows was just coming out of the anesthetic, and one of the fellows asked him if he would like a nurse to hold his hand, and he said, "Don't joke like that." The corps man yelled for me to come, and I wish you could have seen his look of amazement when he saw me.

Our shock ward is right with the receiving office, so all the patients are brought to us to be prepared for surgery. They, of course, must be fully recovered from shock before any surgery can be done. We sometimes have to give them as much as four gallons of whole blood, but it is remarkable how fast it will bring them around. The blood is flown here from Chicago and reaches us within a week's time. We give very little plasma, mostly whole blood.

I'm so glad I'm going to be so busy, because the time will pass quickly, and soon I will be home with you. This will really be all work and no play.
We haven't received any of our back mail, but I imagine we should have some very soon. I should have stacks of it from you alone. That will be the greatest stimulant I could ask for; so just you remember that.

Well, my darling, I'm now off duty and dead tired, but it is a wonderful feeling of tiredness, because I know I have done a lot of very necessary nursing, and I feel so good inside. This is a wonderful outfit, and I wish I could stay with them.

So for today, I will say good night, and write you again tomorrow. I love you with all my being and will forever.

All my love,
Midge

Margaret also writes in this letter about her feelings when VICTORY was achieved.

1990 Saudi Arabia

Cole Hansen was a third grader from Red Cloud, Nebraska when he and his classmates corresponded with Cole's cousin, Doug Garnand, who was serving in the Gulf War. Cole tells us that Doug came to visit their Red Cloud classroom when on leave, and that Doug now lives in Manhattan, Kansas.

November 12, 1990, Red Cloud, NE
Cole Hansen (third grader) &
Response from his cousin Doug Garnan in Saudi Arabia

Dear Doug,

How are you? I am feeling fine and am doing well in school. I'm in the third grade class, and we are doing a project of writing letters to troops in Operation Desert Shield. If you have the time, please write me back. I have some questions to ask you.

What equipment do you use? Do you eat food out of a can? Do you ever get to take time off? I sent you a letter and some cookies, and I heard you never got them. Is there anything that I can send you? When will you get to come back to visit the farm?

My dad is done with his harvest now. My mom is still teaching handicapped preschoolers. I have a cookie company called Cole's Cookie Company, and the farthest place I ever sent them was New York. There will be cookies coming for you.

Love,
Cole
P.S. Good luck! Thank you for fighting for our country!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

November 30, 1990

Dear Cole,

Thank you for your nice letter and for thinking about me. Like all soldiers I like getting mail. We have been receiving letters from school kids from all over the U.S. and we really do appreciate them.

In your letter you asked me several questions, so I will try to answer them. Some of the equipment we use include our M16A2 rifle, which almost every American soldier carries. Also I carry a 9mm Bretta pistol. We also carry our gas mask, which is called a M17AZ protective mask. We have what's called CPOGs, chemical protective over garment. They protect us from any dangerous chemicals. Because I'm working with a foreign country, I use a lot of their equipment, tanks, mortars, machine guns, and anti-tank weapons.

Sometimes we eat food out of a can, but the Saudi have been feeding us goat, mutton, camel, and rice. Sometimes we eat what's called MREs, which stands for Meals Ready to Eat. They come in foil and plastic packages. They have different meals, such as turkey and rice, meatball and sauce, pork patties, and beef stew. They are the same type that astronauts eat. Next time I come home I'll bring you some.

You ask me in your letter if I need anything. The Army gives me about everything I need, just pray for me, and write me if you have the time.
I don't know when I will be back to visit, but I hope so soon. I don't believe it will be this Christmas, but maybe this summer.

Thanks for sending the cookies. I haven't received them yet but I probably will.

Good luck with your cookie company and in school. Tell your parents and grandparents I said, "Hello."

Love,
Doug
P.S. Thanks again for your letter.