Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Letter home...
Dear Ma & Pa,
Am well. Hope you are. Tell brother Walt & Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile.
Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt & Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it is not so bad, they git warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc.! .., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food.
But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.
It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route" marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different.
A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys gets sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. The Capt. is like the school board. Majors & Colonels just ride around & frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals ! for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk and don't move. And it ain't shooting back at you, like the Higgett boys at home.
All you got to do is to lay there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry & join before other fellers get into this setup & come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter, Gail
Am well. Hope you are. Tell brother Walt & Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile.
Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt & Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it is not so bad, they git warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc.! .., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food.
But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.
It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route" marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different.
A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys gets sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. The Capt. is like the school board. Majors & Colonels just ride around & frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals ! for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk and don't move. And it ain't shooting back at you, like the Higgett boys at home.
All you got to do is to lay there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry & join before other fellers get into this setup & come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter, Gail
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saga of Taxes
Tax his land, Tax his bed, Tax the table At which he's fed.
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule, Teach him taxes Are the rule.
Tax his work, Tax his pay, He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat.
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt, Tax his work, Tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he Tries to think.
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers, If he cries Tax his tears.
Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways To tax his ass.
Tax all he has Then let him know That you won't be done Till he has no dough.
When he screams and hollers; Then tax him some more, Tax him till He's good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, Tax his grave, Tax the sod in Which he's laid.
Put these words Upon his tomb, "Taxes drove me To my doom"
When he's gone, Do not relax, It's time to apply The inheritance tax
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule, Teach him taxes Are the rule.
Tax his work, Tax his pay, He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat.
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt, Tax his work, Tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he Tries to think.
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers, If he cries Tax his tears.
Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways To tax his ass.
Tax all he has Then let him know That you won't be done Till he has no dough.
When he screams and hollers; Then tax him some more, Tax him till He's good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, Tax his grave, Tax the sod in Which he's laid.
Put these words Upon his tomb, "Taxes drove me To my doom"
When he's gone, Do not relax, It's time to apply The inheritance tax
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
