Edward J. Thomas - World War II
Sat. Jul 29 Germany introduces the ME 163, the war's first jet.
Thur. Aug 3 the Allies capture Myitkyina, Burma but with heavy losses.
Below letter written by Edward J. Thomas
3 August 1944 Thursday
Dear Mom, Harry & Izzy:
I am enclosing another letter of Stanley's which he wrote in answer to the
letter I sent him during my furlough. Apparently Stanley is very interested in
spiritualism as I once was and probably will be again, I am afraid, when I am
ready to answer his letter. The book which Stanley searched for so long, entitled"The Unobstructed Universe" was known to me in the Aleutians. At that time I also
knew that Stewart Edward White wrote it. I haven't, however, read the book yet.
Stanley seems pretty well convinced that there is life after death because
of the evidence given in this book. As far as I am concerned, there is one thing
that would stop me from believing as he does. I believe it is quite possible that
a living mind may have supernatural powers because there are so many ligitimate
cases of persons able to perform extraordinary mental stunts. It is definitely
known that some people have powers of telepathy and others haven't. What I am not
sure of yet is whether living minds actually communicate with spirit minds. I
haven't come across anything that would definitely prove it. The fact that a
person feels the presence of a spirit or the fact that he appears to communicate
with one is not proof, even though his feeling and communication may be positive and
genuine to himself. It is not proof because there is the possibility of living
minds unconsciously communicating with other living minds on earth. They receive
messages like some radio operators who are mystified by certain sounds and then
come to the conclusion they are receiving messages from some other planet when
actually they are receiving them from someplace on earth. That's what I am going
to tell Stanley and make him just as doubtful about the subject as I am.
I gratefully received your package of doughnuts, tarts and candy, but I
regret to say I didn't pick it up at the post office soon enough. Everything
around here is pretty well disorganized and sometimes I don't go to the post office
every day because I am not able to arrive there on time. When packages come into
this camp, the post office takes the names off the packages and lists them on
a sheet which they hang up on the wall. I didn't refer to this sheet for same
time and therefore never called for any package until the post office brought,
it to my attention. How long the package remained at the post office I don't
know, but it was there long enough to allow the raspberry tarts to become moldy
In spite of that, they looked very appetizing and I was even tempted to eat molds
and all. The doughnuts, however, were all right and I made a meal of them.
I like receiving such delicacies once in a while but for the present it is not
so convenient to receive them. Later on when everything is permanently settled,
I will be glad to get now and then any palate tickling confections you can send.
About a week ago we had a ferocious storm. It began when I was feeling
my way toward the tent about midnight. The wind stepped up to a high velocity
and the wash pans on the benches outdoors began to clatter and take off like
birds. After entering my tent, I lowered the canvas wall on my side. Others
were waking up and doing the same until finally the walls of the entire tent
were down.
It was hard to fall asleep because the loose walls of the tent made loud
slapping sounds. About an hour later my doze was interrupted by terrific noises.
The world seemed to be going mad. There was a clamorous deluge with lightning
and thunder and a wild wind which made the entire tent puff and flap like
a fighting rooster. Everybody was awake now. Many were out of bed, some trying
to secure the tent walls and door flaps and others were getting their pup
tents out to protect themselves or their equipment from leaks. I remained in
bed and wondered how much longer the tent would last. I waited for it to be
blown away any second. The storm died down, however, in about 15 minutes and
allowed me to go back to sleep with some relief.
A couple or hours later I again was awakened by another storm twice as
strong. The tent wall was hitting my bed like a ramrod. Rain came into the
tent in big sprays and water dripped from the roof almost everywhere. Some of
the beds were turning into bath tubs. The boy on my right stood in his bed
and contemplated his excessive humidity and dedided to roll up his mattress
and blankets and transfer them to another vacant bed across the aisle where
he thought it would be slightly dryer. The boy on my left picked up his
blankets and went through the storm into the huge garage about 100 yards away.
The other boys were either sitting up or standing in bed cursing like dead-end
kids and wondering what to do. I remained lying oown, thinking that there was
no use in trying to improve my situation or do anything about my barracks bags
and hand-bag which were on the ground. What was the use in fussing around,
I thought, if the tent was going to come down eventually and drench everything.
To keep the rain from soaking through the blanket which covered me, I grabbed
another one which lay on my barracks bag and threw it over me.
In the morning everybody had the problem of finding dry clothes with which to dress themselves. My trousers were saturated completely. Fortunately I had a dirty pair under my mattress which were dry. My shirt which hung on the bed post was half drenched. I put it on anyway. Dressing had to be done in bed because the ground was muddy. After putting on a dry pair of socks, I stuck my feet into my wet shoes and waded out of the tent to work.
Harry, in one of your letters you gave me the annual weather report for
Tennessee which stated that violent storms are rare. After the storm I experienced,
I think must interpret your report quite differently than I originally did.
The word "violent" in the report really means furious enough to blow building
down.
Izzy, you asked me if I had done any bowling in Memphis. Yes, I did--one
game at the Catholic Club. I made up my mind never to go there again. The
floor was slivery, the balls were nicked and out of round and the pin boys comeup right to you after you are through to ask for a tip. 15¢ for the game plus
10¢ for the tip makes it 25¢ a line on an alley I wouldn't play free of charge.
My score was 113 but I shouldn't count it at all because the alley and balls
were too much below standard.
Mom, I received the ballot card which you sent me with your last letter.
I filled it out and am sending it today to the City Clerk of Detroit. I hope the
Socialists will be on the ballot because I would like to have a chance to snub
the Democrats. I don't like the way they are running the Army. I heard yesterday
that a soldier for failing to salute a colonel was bawled out, court-martialed
and busted. Now,that isn't democracy--that is Nazism. Of course, there is no
other party I can hold responsible for this except, the Democrats. I wish I could
put the blame on the chicken-brained Republicans just as easily as Hitler puts
the blame on the Jew's, but I can't.
As a result of that storm, all of us have moved out of our tents into the
huge garage nearby. It was something I never wished to do because the garage
is too crowded with double bunks placed closely together. The air is foul and
hot with very little ventilation to improve it. The tents, on the other hand,
were well ventilated places because the walls could be raised to allow the
cool night air to pass through. Storm or no storm, I think if I had my own way
I would remain in the tent.
In my next letter I'll give you an idea of what my work day schedule is.
I was going to do it in this letter but the storm blew in and cluttered it up
too much.
With love, Eddie
