Phil Wood's Letters
Letter #32
Get Better Quickly, For All Our Sakes
To Gretchen Wood
August 1943
Saturday[1]
Dearest Gretchen,
Darling, this is terrible! Good in a way, of course, since it is all over and out, but to have to go through it alone – Mother says it was a close call. Thank God I got both letters at once or I would be terribly worried. As it is I can’t get it off my mind – you being there alone – what if, what if!
Mother says you are out of danger that [illegible] be. But somehow I can’t stop worrying. It’s natural, I guess, when someone so close is in any danger, whether you’re assured it’s slight or not.[2]
Nothing for it, though, but to while away your troubles and pains with chatter. You know, you and Mother’s summers always seem to end up the same way – the winters very gay and rushed, but the summers sultry and dull, filled with unpleasant duties with the family, sickness, and boredom. Supposed to be the other way. Or is it just New York?
Any laughs? Oh yes, one at least – I have, quite unbeknownst to you all, been sporting a mustache for lo these many moons. (Almost three of them, in fact.) And so effectively that it has had to be quite drastically trimmed a couple of times. I really like it – I think you will [too] as a matter of fact, after you get used to it. Looks exactly like a third blond eyebrow, but no matter, I’ll get a picture of it soon and send it to you.
Glad you got the radio fixed. I wasn’t having any luck (in the one radio store I was ever able to get to before it closed).
The two weeks of regimental problems are over, and contrary to plan the division is not yet fully formed, neither the 23rd nor the 25th regiments being ready.[3] So for the next two weeks we go back to the barracks and do comparatively little: catch up on some points missed, train the new men that are due in next week (we are only 2/3 strength now) then back again on regimental problems.[4]
I’ve gotten so that I don’t mind living in the field. In fact, in some ways, I prefer it. There are many discomforts, but there are compensations too – mainly the sense of self-sufficiency, the strange down-to-earth confidence that comes from the realization that you can get along quite comfortably for days with just what you can carry on your back. Knowing that you can be thoroughly refreshed by a night’s sleep on hard, lumpy, sloping ground with just a poncho under you and one blanket over top – provided the stars are bright enough and the dove still [?] in the creek-bed. I’m afraid I will be a Maine woods camping enthusiast when this is all done.
Thanks a load for the stills Gretch. They were interesting as hell, especially the corny caption material, a great deal of it erroneous, of course. But the boys got a big kick out of it. I as a matter of fact could spot myself – not exactly the bravest man either! The last one in boat P-1-9. Just a blur, of course.[5]
The enclosed $10 is very little I know, Mother, but it is all I have just now. I keep paying bills – no poker since I’ve been out here, and I’ve only gone ashore twice in the last two months.[6] Back bills and debts. I didn’t spare the horses for those first two months after Rusty.
Get better quickly, Gretch – for all of our sakes, as well as your own. Although it is a good thing to have behind you – or out of you.
All my love and a kiss,
Phil
Footnotes
[1] Letter undated; presumably mid-August as the two-week regimental problem noted in the previous letter has concluded. Potentially Saturday 21 August as Phil also references the impending arrival of new men, which occurred on 25-27 August.
[2] It is never explicitly stated what this emergency was; apparently Gretchen was quite sick (possibly an appendectomy, as Phil ends the letter with “a good thing to have behind you – or out of you”). Despite assurances that it is “slight,” she is not out of the woods quite yet.
[3] These two regiments were en route from North Carolina to Camp Pendleton. The Fourth Marine Division (14th, 20th, 23rd, 24th, and 25th Marines) was formally activated on 16 August 1943, with the 24th Marines being attached on 25 August.
[4] Approximately 240 men, mostly joined 1/24 between 25 and 27 August.
[5] A reference to the 1943 film “Guadalcanal Diary,” in which 1/24 appeared as extras during landing and combat scenes. Gretchen was working for Ideal Publications, which produced film-fan magazines with titles like “Movie Stars Parade.” It seems she has forwarded some pages with promo shots from the film, hence the “corny caption material.”
[6] “Gone ashore” is Marine slang for leaving post to go on liberty. One is “aboard” post, even when said post is a land installation.
When 20th Century Fox needed extras for the film adaptation of Richard Tregaskis’ bestselling “Guadalcanal Diary,” they turned to Camp Pendleton – and the Marine Corps was only too happy to oblige.
George Smith recalled that his battalion participated in the scenes depicting the amphibious landing on Guadalcanal. “The palm trees were all phony,” he said, “they were wired on platforms. They used Marine flyers for the strafing, and they came in low and knocked half the trees down. The movie guys were really pissed!” Smith remembered meeting William Bendix and Lloyd Knoll, who he deemed “pretty nice people.” Enlisted Marines were less keen on young star Richard Jaeckel; they thought he should be in a real uniform, not playacting. (Jaeckel did serve in the Merchant Marine from 1944 – 1949.) Promotional photos hit the press in the late summer of 1943, and evidently Gretchen managed to get her hands on a few which she forwared to her brother.
All the splashing around and running through pyrotechnics was great fun for the trainees Marines. The landing scenes were shot on Catalina Island off the coast of California. In the following months, the 24th Marines would become well acquainted with the island’s beaches: they conducted countless mock landing operations there before heading out to combat.
The rugged training is starting to pay off. Mike Mervosh of Company C said “They were pushing us to our limits. I figured it was done to get us so mad that we looked forward to going into combat to get away from the training regimen. Training in misery was part of the deal – the more miserable we were, the feister we got.” Phil’s newfound appreciation for outdoor living is a marked change from his pre-war life.
Gretchen’s ailment is not fully explained, but is referenced in the following letter. Phil received a two month leave at the start of September, which may have been an emergency grant due to illness in the family. Accordingly, there is a gap of about a month in his correspondence as he travels home to New York.