Home Front to Battlefront. Frank Lavin

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СКАЧАТЬ they were promised me. They’re pretty good, but they don’t look so hot. Oh well, they’ll blend in with the general gruesome effect of the G.I. Carl Lavin.

      I guess I’ve been doing a lot of griping, but I’m actually quite happy here.

      Remember what you said about the army being a glorious adventure? Well it is a glorious adventure—in living. I’ve been with every type of person there is—and I’m fascinated in having some of the highest types for tent-mates, the kind you were just writing about, mother. Well, s’all for now.

      Love Carl

      . . .

      There was something unusual near Carl’s barrack—a group of barracks of men going through Officer Candidate School, and they were all African Americans. At that time, America was still largely segregated, and the military was no different.¹³

      There were a few all-black units. There was a black tank battalion. There was a black fighter wing—the Tuskegee Airmen. But Carl’s most common sighting of black people was in transportation units. They were truck drivers. Large numbers of African Americans also served in engineer and quartermaster units, among others, but there was hardly any mixing of races. Occasionally, Carl would see some black and white MPs. The camp made it a point to have one black and one white MP go out together.

      It was at Camp Hood that Carl first encountered African Americans in a professional capacity, and what he saw impressed him greatly. In barracks next to his was this group of black men training to be officers. They were polished, smart, and smart-looking. Carl’s conclusion: In the face of segregation and societal pressure, those soldiers had to be twice as good as the white soldiers in order to get ahead. They were accomplished, professional, elite. They were a crackerjack group.¹⁴

      . . .

      July 30,’43

      Dear Mother,

      There’s nothing new to report, except that I’ve been having a very easy time of it lately. That poison ivy I told you about hasn’t left me yet, so they put me on light duty. I’m not supposed to do anything that makes me sweat, because that’s what spreads and irritates it. Yezzer, I’m leading the life.

      Believe it or not, we’ve had a rainy spell for two days now! The temperature has gone down to 90, which actually feels quite cool, and every night we have rain, which feels exhilarating in the tents.

      I guess I forgot to tell you about the long-horn I sent you. I happened to see it when I was in town and I thought it would go good with the dog and the bear on the radio. Does it?

      I’m still waiting to hear something from A.S.T.P. Rumor has it that our basic will be over pretty soon. Only encouraging sign so far is that I’ve been made assistant squad (10 men) leader which isn’t a damn thing.

      Yes, I got a letter from Betty K. Can’t tell much from it—seems to be pretty decent, intelligent, etc.

      I received the shorts. Thanks a lot. I didn’t expect you to buy some, though, with all the bathing suits around. They’ll come in very handy. I’ll still need a bathing suit though. How about sending me that blue pair? I didn’t get the bag yet, though. If you have time and points will you make me some fudge, please? How about the Repository? Write soon.

      Love, Carl

      . . .

      Aug 2, 1943

      Sunday

      Dear Mom,

      Right now I’m having a good time doing nothing but existing. It feels damn good to do nothing and have nothing to worry about. We got paid yesterday so practically the whole company is out on pass. As a result there’s a lot of extra food, which is always good on week ends, and I think I must have gained five pounds this week end. I’m using it also to get rid of my poison ivy. They told me that the sun would be the best thing for it, so I took a sunbath yesterday in the nude. After an hour of battling gnats, half-inch flies, quarter-inch ants and various and sundry other members of the animal kingdom I began to get quite warm in certain generally unexposed sections. And then when two buzzards started circling overhead I decided it was time to end the sunbath. It worked pretty good though, because I slept good last night for the first time since I’ve gotten it, and that’s probably why I feel so good today. All a matter of relativity.

      How is everything getting on now back in Canton? Any riots, floods, fires, or explosions? Any of the kids home on furlough? By the way, send me my chess set please. I think it’s around there somewhere. Never mind the board.

      Take it easy. Love Carl

      Figure 2-1. Tank Destroyer Center letterhead, Camp Hood, Texas, July 30, 1943. Author collection.

      . . .

      Wednesday August 4, 1943

      Dear Mother,

      Don’t worry, I still have not signed my life away or at least that eight year stretch of it. I don’t believe you read my letter very carefully in which I told you about getting into A.S.T.P. This is the procedure—1st – two or three interviews—2nd – assignment to a “STAR” unit, which determines which part of ASTP you are “best qualified” for—and assigns you to it regardless of your choices—3rd – preliminary ASTP which consists of 3 twelve week courses separated by a week of furlough—4th advanced ASTP which consists of from 1 to 4 twelve week courses or more. Now this kid whose letter you sent me was assigned to a medical ASTP at his STAR center because they thot he was best fitted for that, whether he wanted it or not. And that’s what will happen to me—I’ll be tested and assigned to what they want me. If it’s something that has advanced training and if they want me to, or decide I’m good enough to, I’ll get advanced training later.

      Now, as for West Point. As I said, the odds are 100,000 to one against my getting in. If I’m lucky enough to get into the preliminary training course I’ll have until next June to decide if I want to really take West Point and eight years. You said that if I got into that I’d have eight years away from civilian life and consequently would not know how and be afraid to conduct myself in it again. I would have wasted eight years, not be able to marry, and not be able to make a living for myself. You said my best bet would be medicine.

      Well, I think you’re wrong. Who are the important men of twenty years from now going to be? Not scientists—they were taken over by industry in the last war, not industry, or capital, or business—they are all being taken over by government in this war. When peace comes the military heroes will hold the offices, we will retain a big army which will have a large say. The army leaders will also be leaders of public opinion. Government will be the big thing and the army will be the big thing in government. Let’s look at it in a less general way now. My eight years will be three years of excellent training (four, in peace) followed by five or four years of the best practical training in the world in handling men. Now if that wouldn’t be enough to get any really good civilian job, I’d like to know what is. But I probably wouldn’t want to get a civilian job. I’ve talked to men who were in the peacetime army. They worked from seven to five each day with weekends off at Saturday noon. You don’t even have to wear a uniform off duty. Of course, the pay isn’t too good, but there’s plenty of room for advancement and it’s a well established firm. Now if I take medicine I undoubtedly won’t get there in five years because the war won’t last СКАЧАТЬ