A Soldier Writes Home

My dad’s first letter home to my mom on Sept. 2, 1942.

I inherited a box of letters. It took me several years to open that box and look inside. I was afraid of what I might find. I just didn’t want to know about this intimate time in my parent's lives.

My mother had saved every letter my father wrote to her while he was in the army.

My rageaholic father and my arrested-development mother had a turbulent marriage. My dad died at age 72. After my mother died seventeen years later at age 88 I was ready to put all that chaos behind me and move on.

After some time had passed my curiosity got the better of me. The first thing I did to work my way into eavesdropping on their pre-marriage lives was to put all the letters in chronological order. All 1095 of them.

My dad wrote to my mom every day almost without fail from September 3, 1942, until November 22, 1945. The rearranged letters took up three stuffed sturdy shoe boxes.

In these letters I found boredom, entertainment and a peek into the life of my dad as a soldier.

The most unsettling discovery was that some things about my family, on both sides, that I was told or assumed to be true were not.

I could fill in the chinks of what my mother was doing during that time by what he wrote back to her. It seemed he was responding in detail to what she wrote to him. She was working in the cotton mill and her hours had been cut back. She went to some family reunions and parties at a friend’s house.

He wrote about running into some of my uncles and friends of his that I knew when I was growing up. Men from the same area were kept together during basic training.

The letters didn’t say exactly where he was when he wrote because all the letters were postmarked from somewhere in California. I remember he had told me he was in the Philippines.

I confess I haven’t read them all. That’s a lot of letters. Someday I hope to write a story about these two people who had their own lives before they became my parents.

I’m sharing with you the first of these letters.

Wednesday evening

Sept. 2, 1942

Dearest Evelyn.

I got your letter today. was sure glad to hear from you. You must had a grand time over this weekend. Sure would like to been with yous. how did you like the band concert. know it was good. I like to hear a good band. We ust to have a parade pretty often in Fort Bragg, but we don’t do much drilling here. they have a good band sometimes here for guard wand. And sometimes for retreat.

I guss you are glad it is getting cooler. Got a letter from Harold said that it had been lot cooler and there was something in the air that made him want to start hunting opossums. Guss they will have a lot of fun hunting this fall.

R.D. was sure lucky to get a furlow. Would like to getone but don’t see any chance. They are letting a few go home from here. but they have been in the army a long time. they are pretty strict about letting you leave camp. wont let but 10 leave at one time on passes. this camp is pretty small and there are some pretty (uavable?) places around. especially for shipping. they are pretty strict about keeping everything well guarded.

I went to the show last night saw a pretty good show. the old home stead, by the Weaver family. there was a French lutenat made a talk we all had to go over to the theater for that , and I stayed for the show. He was in the battle of Don Qurk. don’t know weather you can make that out or not.Know it is not spelt right. Any way it was pretty interesting. he told what he had to put up with while he was over there. Seems like the french people had it pretty hard.

We got paid this week. I got $46.00 after my laundry and dry cleaning was taking out. don’t seem like much for a whole month. when a lot of people around here are making more than that a week. and less work. Most of the ones around the ship yard are making $100.00 a week.

that was sure a nice and interesting letter I received from you today. Sure enjoy getting your letters. makes me feel a lot beter.

Bye.

Love

Vernon Overcash