worry about that. I’ll tell you what happens as soon as it does.
But if Carson can do all that, why don’t you put his powers to work along a more helpful line? Maybe he can get me transferred into something requires more brain work. Some kind of specialized job. If he wants to know if I’ve any experience in anything he mentions within reason, say yes. It’s surprising what you can bluff through in the army.
Have you heard again from Fred lately? Let me know. Meantime—Lots of Love –Carl
. . .
May 26 1944
Thursday
Dear Mom,
I’m afraid your hopes that the army will make a neat, punctual person out of me are due for disappointment. Every soldier’s first post-war plans include such things as getting a rifle and throwing dirt on it, never walking in step, never hanging any clothes up, sleeping until two every day, and never walking more than twenty consecutive steps at a time. In other words, to do just the opposite of what he’s been doing under compulsion.11 This may explain daddy’s behavior.12 Maybe if he’d never been in the army he’d be happy in sleeping normal hours. But the stigma of regimentation has probably lasted all this time and so he can’t bear to sleep as everybody else does. So it’ll be the same for Fred and me.
That telephone talk was pretty nice. Shame I didn’t get a chance to talk to pop. But one of these months maybe I’ll get into town again, and there’ll be another chance. After I talked to you, I called up some people that A wrote me the address of. Her roommate’s family, in fact. They invited me out there, along with the guy I came in with, for Sunday dinner (which was the reason I called them up—don’t worry, I was very diplomatic—“Oh, no, I couldn’t think of imposing on you like that, and besides I came in with a friend.”) So we went out there and had a wonderful time, surprisingly enough. We spent the whole afternoon and evening with them. Met about all the family relatives and friends, as they’d drop in and we went for a ride in the car and called on several people. Everyone we met was very nice and treated us wonderfully. It was a week-end just like one back home—everything peaceful and quiet and civilized. Nothing to remind us of the army. There was a fifteen year old daughter—quite pretty and smart—which added to the amusement. We helped her with her homework after supper. (They insisted on supper—what could we do?) By the way, don’t worry about the watch being fast. (sent the old one back on Tuesday—get it yet?) the mother works in a jewelry store—or owns it—father is dead—and so she is having it fixed for me. I’m sure they’ll do a good job. Simple to do anyway.
Have you gotten any kind of report on my “condition” yet? Keep me posted. Oh, and keep sending those cartoons, please. They’re excellent.
And by now it’s only five more weeks. I hope.
Love and kisses, Carl
. . .
Jun 1 1944
Wednesday
Hi, Mom,
Glad to hear that your finish in the Hadassah was such a climactical one.13 But why quit? How are you going to spend all your time now? It seems to me that these activities need you, and you need them.
A new order came down on furlough. No one gets one until six months after his last one. Which means that it’ll be the beginning of August for me, instead of July as I thought. That’s eight weeks away. I’m not even holding my own. (a month ago I thought I’d have one in seven weeks.)
Yes, I told them about those operations.14 But naturally they don’t mean anything. How could they?
Oh, by the way, the length of the furlough was also changed—but this one for the better. Now it is ten days plus traveling time. Which I can make eleven days at home. That’ll be almost twice as long as any furlough I’ve had so far.
Lights out now—so ‘Bye—With Love –Carl
. . .
A letter from Edith:
Jamaica NY
June 3, 1944
Dear Mrs. Lavin
Now that the inevitable “eleventh hour” rush of end term work is over, I can do what I meant to do long before this, write and say hello.
Friday was my last day of class. (A good thing too that the end of the semester came when it did! For several weeks now I’ve been letting a bad case of Spring Fever and an awful lot of daydreaming about Canton of course play havoc with my powers of concentration—and, probably, with my grades.) I’ve still a few exams threatening me, but they’ll be over soon and then I can really let go and relax.
Speaking of relaxing, I’m afraid I’m not going to give you a chance to, am I? Carl told me you’re very active in organization work. Mother’s interested in the same type of thing and knowing June is one of her busiest months, I imagine you’ll be pretty rushed yourself these next few weeks. Then, instead of having a chance to recuperate you’re going to have to be bothered with a houseguest. (I might have said this before Mrs. Lavin but I mean it, truly. I hope you and Mr. Lavin won’t feel you must put yourselves out to entertain me. I’ll feel very badly if you do.)
I agree it was thoughtful of the Army to postpone Carl’s furlough till I finished school. Thoughtful as far as my studies were concerned, that is. As far as my feelings were concerned, however, I’m not so sure.
According to Carl, the Army intends to keep the exact date of his furlough a closely guarded secret—until just a few days before it comes through. At least so for a while yet, I won’t be able to make definite plans. As soon as I can though, I’ll write.
Say hello to Mr. Lavin for me won’t you.
And one thing more, thank you for taking time out to write. It meant a great deal to me.
‘Bye Edith
. . .
The United States and Allies launched the liberation of Europe—D-Day—on June 6, changing the pace of the war and Carl’s narrative. As one historian wrote, “The 8,230 U.S. casualties on D-Day included the first of almost 400,000 men who would be wounded in the European theatre, the first of 7,000 amputations, the first of 89,000 fractures.”15
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