March 13, 1942

Dear Mr. Parker,

By now you are becoming acclimated to Marine life while we at home slowly become acclimated to the idea of our country being at war. We here in town are being propagandized more and more now that America is actively in it. It seems there’s a new sign each week encouraging us to do our part, the latest one a picture of Uncle Sam shushing us, saying, "A slip of the lip can sink a ship." It seems incredible to believe there could be spies working among us in a place as small as Whitney.

Every organization from the Boy Scouts to the Jane Austen Society is sponsoring a scrap drive these days. To my chagrin they have even taken the Civil War cannon from the Town Square to be melted down as scrap iron. I raised a formal objection with the Town Council-after all, posterity must also be served-but of course their attitude was one of righteous patriotism, thus I was overridden.

Norris and Nat MacReady have volunteered to organize a Civil Patrol and be air raid wardens. They patrol each night to make sure everyone is in off the streets by ten and all blackouts are observed. Frankly, after all the years they have spent whittling on that bench across the street I thought they had grown into it!

I am making it a Saturday ritual to go out to visit Eleanor immediately after closing, since the days are longer now. Also it helps that we get an extra hour since "War Time" has gone into effect to save on electricity. Your wife and I always have a pleasant visit and a game or two of Chinese checkers. I take the boys books which occupy them while I’m there. They are looking healthy and robust, and Elizabeth is content and growing weekly.

I have put in a little Victory Garden but I fear I am not blessed with a green thumb like Eleanor. But I shall struggle on with it and perhaps get a tomato or two. Eleanor has volunteered to teach me to put up vegetables. I didn’t want to hurt the poor child’s feelings, but I’m afraid I’ve been behind a desk too long to be handy with collanders and sieves. Still, I shall try.

The butcher shop is acting as a collection depot for wastefats. The billboard there claims one pound of fat contains enough glycerine to make a pound of black powder, so we are all saving our bacon drippings for that cause.

Yet another new billboard has been posted in the town square right beside the MacReadys’ bench. On it is listed the names of all the local boys who have joined up. Your name is listed on the right column between Okon, Robert Merle, United States Navy, and Sprague, Neal J., United States Army. Thankfully none have a star behind them yet.

Franklin Gilmore is working out fine at the library although he occasionally shirks when it comes to dusting the top shelves which he thinks I never check.

I hope this finds you well and tolerating the rigors of military life with a minimum of discomforts. I shall look forward to hearing from you only if you may spare the time, which I’m given to understand is at a minimum during basic training.

My best to you,

Gladys Beasley

Mar. 15, 1942

Dear Will,

You’ll never guess who come over here today That pretty young Lydia Marsh from down the town road. Come up the road while I was planting my victory garden-ha! I been planting garden since I was old enough to hoe and all of a sudden they call it by some name so the town people will plant one too but thats neither here nor there. Mrs. Marsh she come to buy honey said she heard we had it for sale but she brung her two kids a girl four name Sally and a boy two name Lonn and the boys got along with them just fine and they were playin in the yard so I offered Mrs. Marsh tea and she stayed a bit and what a nice woman…

20 March 1942

Dear Miss Beasley,

Thank you for your letter and it sure was full of news I didnt know all that was going on back home Elly must not go to town cause she don’t tell me about it. I read some of the poems and they were intresting My favorite was When a Man Turns Homeward by Daniel Whitehead Hicky. I picture it would be like that when I can come back home to Elly and the kids and we will close the door and leave the world like a kitten outside…

25 March 1942

Dear Elly,

This has probly been the worst day since I left home. The whole company is pretty upset the whole base really. You probly heard about it on the radio how this lieut. Calvin Murphree had a platoon out on bivouac and sent them under the barbed wire on their bellies while he was strafing (that means shooting shells over their heads) and he went berzerk and started shooting to kill and he killed one private named Kenser or Kunzor or something like that and wounded two others before somebody stopped him. A man expects to get shot at when he reaches the front but not in boot camp by your own officers. Oh God Elly I miss you so much tonight green eyes. I got out my book of poems from Miss Beasley and read my favorite one to make me feel better. It’s about a man coming home through the moonfall and a woman is waiting with a candle. Only four weeks and one day and basic will be over and I should get leave and be able to come home…

March 25, 1942

Dear Will,

Everything is good here except for how much I miss you. Miss Beasley she comes every Saturday after work when the library closes early. She brought me a spelling book and is helping me work on my writing so my letters are better. We play Chinese checkers and guess what else she has done. She has started the milk truck coming out here to pick up our milk and the price is up to 11¢ a quart and 30¢ for a pound of butter and eggs up to 30¢ a dozen too and the driver takes them all for me…

27 March 1942

Dear Elly,

I shouldn’t have written that last letter when I was in such a rotten mood. I dont want you worrying about me you got enough to worry about with the boys and anyway I’m better now and things are going along fine. Did good on my first aid class test but I drew KP this week and I dont care for that much. Rifle practice every day and you know its a funny thing about some of those backwoods boys that cant read and write they can take apart a rifle and put it together in the dark. Me and Red (that’s what I call my buddy Otis) do good on that too…

March 29, 1942

Dear Will,

I wonder what your doing tonight. I been listening to the radio and they been playing The White Cliffs of Dover and I wonder if you’ll be shipped to England…

11 April 1942

Dear Elly,

It’s a good thing we get to send these letters for free I never thought I’d write so many letters in my whole life as I wrote since I been here. I got a one-day pass and Red and me went with a bunch who caught the recruit bus in to Buford and we went to a movie. It was Suspicion starring Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine and afterwards just about everybody got drunk and tried to pick up local girls but me. Only 19 days and I should be able to come home…

April 14, 1942

Dear Will,

I just don’t know how the days could go any slower. I keep thinking about when you get here and how it will be. How long will you be able to stay? Will you take the train again? I got a surprise for you but I won’t tell you till you get here. The boys got a calendar and they drew a big yellow star on the day you get off, and they put a big x on every day just before bedtime… 19 April 1942

Only six more days, green eyes!…

April 19, 1942

Dear Will,

How many quince pies you want?…

21 April 1942

Dear Elly,

I don’t know how to tell you this because I know it’s gonna break your heart. I’d rather do anything than tell you this sugar but we just got orders and it looks like we are not gonna get our weeks leave like we expected. Instead we’re being assigned to the New River Marine Base at New River, North Carolina and we leave direcly from here next Thursday. They won’t tell us why we don’t get leave but theres plenty of grumbling and a few already went AWOL soon as they got the news. Now honey I don’t want you to worry about me, I’m doing fine. I just hope you and the kids are too and that you’ll understand and keep your spirits up…

April 23, 1942

Dearest Will,

I tried real hard not to cry because I know your the one whos doing the hard part and I held off till bedtime after your letter came but then I just couldnt hold the tears in any more…

3 May 1942

Dear Elly,

Well, I’m here at the new barracks and you can send my mail to PFC William Lee Parker, 1st Raider Bn., 1st Marines, New River Marine Base, New River, North Carolina. I got my gold stripe and had to pay Bilinski a buck to sew it on for me cause I’m so clumsy with a needle. Bilinski is this Polish butcher from Detroit who’s in my outfit and always out to make a buck. So we call him Buck Bilinski. Me and Red got bunks side by side this time and I’m sure glad we din’t get separated…

May 6, 1942

Dear Will,

Miss Beasley and I looked at a map and found New River and now I imagine you up there where the map shows that river poking into the land beside the ocean…

14 May 1942

Dear Elly,

I’m sorry I haven’t written for so long but they’ve really been keeping us busy the whole outfit is wondering what they intend to do with us and when but it seems like soon and it seems like it’ll be the real thing whenever we leave here because they got us in intensive combat training, even close hand-to-hand combat. I made up my combat pack so many times I could do it in the dark with my fingers glued together. Theres five kinds and we got to know what to put into each kind. The full field transport packs got everything in it down to the marching pack thats only got the bare essentials. They got us in the water a lot in little rubber rafts. Me and Red were talking the other day and supposing why they’re drilling us so hard and whatever it is, we think its gonna be big…

May 17, 1942

Dear Will,

I know I ought to be brave but I get scared when I think about you going to the front. Your the kind of man who belongs in a orchard keeping bees and I think back to how I worried about you doing that and now compared to what you might have to do how foolish it seems that I worried about the bees. Oh my darling Will how I wish you could be here cause the honey is running and I wish I could see you out there in the orchard beneath the trees filling the water pans and taking off your hat to wipe your forehead on your sleeve…

4 June 1942

Dear Elly,

We’re under orders now for sure but they arent saying for where. All they say is we got to be ready to ship out when word comes down…

Chapter 17

"Good morning. Carnegie Municipal Library."

"Hello, Miss Beasley?"

"Yes."

"It’s Will."

"Oh, my goodness, Will-Mr. Parker, are you all right?"

"I’m just fine but I’m in kind of a hurry. Listen, I’m sorry to call you at work but I couldn’t think of any other way to get word to Elly. And I have to ask you to do me the biggest favor of my life. Could you possibly go out there or pay somebody else to get word to her? We just found out we ship out Sunday and we got forty-eight hours’ leave but if I take a train clear down there I’ll have to turn around and come right back. Tell her I want her to take the train and meet me in Augusta. It’s the only thing I can figure out is if we meet halfway. Tell her I’ll be leaving here on the next train and I’ll wait at the train depot-oh, Jesus, I don’t even know how big it is. Well, just tell her I’ll wait near the women’s rest room, that way she’ll know where to look for me. Could you do that for me, Miss Beasley?"

"She’ll have the message within the hour, I promise. Would you like to call back for her answer?"

"I haven’t got time. My train leaves in forty-five minutes."

"There’s more than one way to skin a cat, isn’t there, Mr. Parker?"

"What?"

"If this doesn’t get her off that place, nothing will."

Will laughed appreciatively. "I hadn’t thought of that. Just tell her I love her and I’ll be waiting."

"She shall get the message succinctly."

"Thank you, Miss Beasley."

"Oh, don’t be foolish, Mr. Parker."

"Hey, Miss Beasley?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, too."

There followed a pause, then, "Mr. Bell didn’t invent this instrument so Marines could use it to flirt with women old enough to be their mothers! And in case you hadn’t heard, there’s a war on. Phone lines are to be kept free as much as possible."

Again Will laughed. "’Bye, sweetheart."