&quote;A full moon, thousands of stars...but no Margie&quote; (eBook)

Week: January 2, 1944 – January 8, 1944

Location: Ft. Riley, KS/ Detroit, MI

From: Joe/Margie

To: Margie/Joe

Quote: “You see I studied my lessons and when he asked me I knew them.”

“Just got back from that burg ‘Junction City.’ Twice is enough for that town.” Except for “a couple of dumpy shows,” Joe didn’t find much of interest in the local social life around Ft. Riley. “The place is overrun with soldiers, and there isn’t any place to go. To be frank or should I say ‘frankly’ it isn’t worth getting dressed up for. So I think it just as well if I stay at home and write.”

Joe’s lieutenant announced that the troopers would be practicing “horsemanship” in the coming days. “We did some wild riding today. They took us out in the wilderness and we did everything with those horses but somersault.” Joe’s was thrilled when the troopers were ordered to ride the horses with only a blanket for a saddle. “Then we walk them (not bad) then came the trotting (woo woo) then a gallop (wow.)”

Lots of riders were thrown from their mounts, that is, if they were able to get onto their horses. Without any stirrups to climb on the animals, many a trooper had trouble getting properly mounted. The curious jumping activity of riders made the horses more anxious and resulted in dangerous kicks from the animals. At least one trooper launched himself with a bit too much energy, missed the mount, and landed on the other side of the horse!

While horsemanship could be instructive and even fun, guard duty was much more about monotony. It was a duty to be avoided if possible and consisted of guarding a small defined space two hours on followed by two hours off. The pattern was repeated throughout the night in all kinds of weather. Joe announced a small victory over the duty on the following day, “Feel great tonight; got out of guard duty. I was picked as an alternate or replacement but the officer of the guard said I could forget about it. You see I studied my lessons and when he asked me I knew them.”

The break allowed Joe to read and answer mail from Margie, folks back home, and the growing number of friends who were being scattered across the globe due to the war.

Margie and seven of her friends travelled to Monroe, MI to attend the ceremony in which Marie Hungerman took her final vows to become a nun in the Catholic Church. Marie was the president of Margie’s high school graduating class. Joe’s dad, Bataise, heard that Margie and her friends planned to take the train to Monroe, so instead, he offered to drive them to the three and a half-hour event. Bataise spent a couple of hours in the service, but the remainder of the time he waited in the car.

Margie described the event as a “beautiful ceremony.” She wrote, “First the girls came up the aisle dressed as brides. They went up to the alter and made a circle around where Arch-bishop Mooney was sitting. One by one he cut their hair and they filed into a room in the back. When they came out again they were all dressed in their habits. It was a wonderful sight but it was sad.” Margie reported further that Marie “seemed so happy and thrilled.” Going forward, Marie would not be allowed to see any of her friends for two years, but her parents could visit her at the convent twice a year.

Mr. Foley, Marge’s father, “took us down to that stinky old Michigan Central to get a refund on our tickets to Monroe. We had the whole eight tickets to turn in.” The train station had been the place where Margie last saw Joe, and the perhaps the occasion had colored her impression of this latest visit. A year earlier, and on that same date, Margie recalled Joe being “low and depressed” because he had been rejected by the draft board. He believed that Margie “wouldn’t go with (him) anymore.” Although she kept it to herself, Margie was happy that Joe wasn’t going into the service “for at least another year.” Along with her thoughts, Margie could keep Joe to herself.

On Friday night, January 7, 1944, Margie just put her younger siblings to bed, and 4810 Vermont was quiet. “All the rest of the household are out,” but Margie didn’t feel alone because that was her time to have a chat in writing with Joe. “I suppose by now you are anxious to hear about Foley. Well you see it’s this way.” Margie went on to describe how Marge Foley and George Carbott developed an “office romance” despite Marge’s ongoing though sporadic relationship with Eddie Allen.

“It all started about three weeks ago when George used to tell Marge all about Dick Tracey and Smilin’ Jack. You see, he read them in the New York Sunday Mirror.” These conversations progressed to daily calls in the office and at home every night, rides home on the same bus after work, and forgotten and missed events with friends. “To top it off she was supposed to go over to Allen’s on New Year’s Night, instead she had a date with George.” He was an interesting guy, and besides, Eddie hadn’t written consistently while he was stationed in Madison, Wisconsin. All of these interactions were unknown to Eddie, and while Marge wanted to keep it that way, she’d just laugh when friends like Margie would warn her that she would “get in trouble with Allen.” It was the worst kept secret in the neighborhood.

Other letters to Joe during the week:

Marge Foley – Monday, January 3, 1944.

“Dear Grandpa,

How’s ‘Joe of the Cavalry’ this week?” Marge said that the holidays had prevented her from writing sooner – “Gilboe, you know how these things are.” She also reported that Eddie was recuperating from the flu in the hospital, and “he likes it very much.” Marge described going to Monroe to see Marie and being driven there by “Papa Gilboe.” Marie “was actually pretty yesterday (stop your laughing, she was.) And remember now, she is a holy nun, and it is a sin to talk about the nuns.” Included in Marge’s letter was a “tiny question I would like to ask you…Why do you have to write all your letters in the – latrine- of all ungodly places?”

Helen Gilboe – Wednesday, January 5, 1944.

“Dear Joe,

As you can see at the top of my letter I am writing that it is just a little after six and incidentally the work is all done believe it or not.” As the eldest of eight Gilboe children, Joe was a kind of household chores foreman for his younger siblings, but at 14, Helen wasn’t cutting him any slack. “Well I have written you 3 letters this is the fourth and as yet I have not received an answer not even a post card.” She went on to tell him, “that’s enough on the subject of bawling you out because after all a letter is supposed to cheer you up not tear you down so we’ll skip it for now brother darling….P.P.S. Don’t forget to write and I mean soon.”

Mary Gilboe – Wednesday, January 5, 1944.

“Dear Joe,

Here’s the little sister again writing just to give you something to read even though it isn’t much it does help to fill up your spare time doesn’t it?... I went down to the Michigan Theater the other night and saw Ina Ray Hutton and she was lousy. The Andrew Sisters are coming back on January 21 with Mitchell Ayers.” Music was a constant interest in the Gilboe home.

Dick Koss – Friday, January 7, 1944.

“Dear Joe,

Well I finally got around to answering your letter…You ask me when I’m getting married. Well I would make it in the near future but when I got in this V-12 business, I had to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t be able to marry till my training has been completed.” Dick was writing from Notre Dame in Indiana where he was a student in an officer training program. He would subsequently drop out of the university. The war complicated conflicting interests for a generation of Americans including Joe, Marge, and their family and friends. Koss wrote, “From the way Marge (Margie) talks, you and she are married by common law already and that the actual ceremonies are soon to come. Let me in on the details. I will keep it quiet.”

Mary Jane Corey – Saturday, January 8, 1944.

“Dear Joe,

‘Smelly’

Haven’t anything to do so decided to write to you. Haven’t anything to say, so will close-

As ever,

Mary Jane”

A joke, of course, as a multiple-page letter followed:

“p.s. Thought of a few things to say. The radio is now playing some crazy tune. About the type you would go for – something like the ‘Window Washer Man.’

Had a ride in your dad’s car last Sunday. You would never give me a ride in it, but that is understandable for your dad is a hospitable person.” Mary Jane was referring to the trip Bataise and the girls made to Monroe to see Marie. Yvonne and I saw Lady Takes a Chance last evening. Gee was it good Smelly. You should see it. ‘Jean Arthur’ and John Wayne were the patient players.” Mary Jane would report on the Hit Parade in other correspondence knowing that Joe was a music fan. She also had an interesting sign-off in addition to “as ever, Mary Jane,” following it with “Puddle of...