Phil Wood's Letters
Letter #59
God, But I Get Homesick
To Margretta & Gretchen
31 March 1944
31 March
Dear girls,
My very dear girls! God, but I get homesick easily these days. Happened to be looking through Esquire the other day and came [across] a fashion plate showing Fifth Avenue and Radio City – it brought back the whole feeling of New York, God bless it – and Sunday, and you two dressed up for an excursion to the Modern Museum, then hunt for tea (in vain, usually) – or a stroll up as far as the park – our outings to the Botanical Gardens and the Cloisters.[1] Thousands of places in the city that I have grown to love. Remember how I used to hate to go to the city, Mother? Claimed I got headaches from the car exhaust. Probably all constipation. Your one mistake in raising me (other than that, you couldn’t have improved on your product) was that you never emphasized athletics at all. You should have! I always feel like a million now that I’m active.
I’ve got a lot of plans about how I’m going to raise my boys. I think about them a lot: three boys, and one pretty little girl that I can spoil to death. Swarthmore, of course, for two; the artistic one I want to educate myself. And they are to work together, for each other, like the Rapps.
I’m going to build my own home. I’ve got half a hundred designs, most of them drawn out, complete with interiors. I guess I get that from you, Mother.
A couple of little wrinkles, though – getting a wife being one. As time goes on, my field of availability seems to be narrowing. That really was a bit of a blow about Nancy. I had become very fond of her in those two days. No, Gretch, I can’t see pursuing the issue against a setup like that. There’s no future in it as far as I can see. But you’d better start lining up an address book of possibilities for when I get back.[2]
It’s raining again. It rains fully half the time – I fully expect Jeanne Eagels to come swinging into the tent – and it rains with a painful regularity every time we go out into the field.[3] And that is no fun, let me tell you – hiking in wet feet, crawling on your belly in ankle deep mud, sleeping in two inches of water and mosquitoes.
And when we are not out on maneuvers, we are being inspected by Colonels and Generals – and they are never satisfied. We had one liberty day taken away for it. And washing gear and clothes, then trying to get them dry. In fact, the maneuvers are designed to get our gear dirty so that we’ll have something to clean for the next inspection.
But after all, the rain does make the things grow that make this island so beautiful. I want you to see it someday; it is the perfect vacation land. I would like to spend a year or so loafing here after the war. Incredible, breathtaking beauty: stirring, purple-blue mountains; tall trees burdened down by enormous flame-colored blossoms; jungles dripping with orchids, white & deep purple ones in gigantic sprays; miles of bamboo forest; breadfruit trees so thick that sunlight never gets through to the ground, and roots that spread above the ground; banana trees growing wild in the valleys – red bananas, ripe & sweet; guavas, yellow with red meat inside. And innumerable streams, clear and cold – we sleep under two and three blankets every night.
I’m sending the Marine Corps Gazette. They have a set of good pictures of Namur. The one in the upper right hand corner is A Company coming back down the beach just after the battle – the island had been secured about 20 minutes before. We spent a week right there where the picture was taken. I’m just out of sight at the head of the column. Save the picture.
Corp. Ervin – my ex-machine gun squad leader, up for the Navy Cross – is back from the hospital, and I nabbed him for my mortar section leader.[4] A hell of a good man – we work well together. And he’s squaring the section away in fine shape.
Some more sweet letters from Aunt Kit (as wonderful an Aunt as ever anyone had), one from Kitsy, and a lot from you all – more, I love ‘em!
Love, and a couple of kisses,
Phil
Footnotes
[1] Popular outdoorsy destinations in Brooklyn and the far north end of Manhattan.
[2] Phil met a friend of Gretchen’s named Nancy Ragan on a trip to New York in 1943 and was evidently corresponding with her – but the implication here is that “Nan” has met someone else closer to home. This is the last mention of Nan in surviving correspondence.
[3] Jeanne Eagels was a Broadway and film actress of the 1920s. Her breakout role was as Sadie Thompson in a theatrical adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham’s short story “Rain,” which is set on a tropical island. This is a bit of a niche reference, but given the family’s history in the theater, would not have been lost on Margretta or Gretchen,
[4] Corporal Arthur Ervin has just recovered from wounds suffered on Namur; according to muster rolls, he returned on 24 March 1944. This “nabbing” is the start of a very important development in the lives of both men, which will ultimately lead to their deaths.
Before this point, Phil Wood’s references to Arthur B. Ervin have been dismissive (a squad leader with “an incurable Samoan disease”) or in passing (“up for the Navy Cross”). This is not terribly surprising coming from the top down. “Ervin was pretty much an individualist, not given to affection,” wrote 1Lt. Frederic A. Stott, “and on first impression, not a top-notch NCO.”
On paper, Ervin had a number of strikes against his reputation even before appearing on the rolls of A/1/24. He was a veteran of Pearl Harbor – but was in the brig for burglary and car theft when the attack began. Although he comported himself with bravery on 7 December 1941 (and voluntarily helped handle and dispose of unexploded bombs), his previous crimes demanded a dishonorable discharge. Ervin spent a few months in Mare Island Naval Prison before being granted clemency, on the condition that he serve with a combat unit. A dull stint in Samoa with the 22nd Marines led him to volunteer for the Third Raider Battalion, with whom he invaded the Russell Islands in the bloodless Operation CLEANSLATE.
Unfortunately, Ervin contracted filariasis on Samoa or in the Russell Islands – a painful swelling in the groin and the sensation of his legs “going dead” rendered him unfit for frontline duty. The disease had no cure, but went dormant in cooler, drier climates – so Ervin was shipped back to California, where he wound up as a squad leader in Phil Wood’s platoon.
While officers were not terribly impressed by Ervin’s backstory, the other enlisted men in the weapons platoon took immediate note. Although slight of stature, Ervin was quite intimidating – George A. Smith commented that Ervin “pissed ice water” and “never smiled, let alone laughed.” (Many years after the war, when shown a picture of Ervin smiling for a studio portrait, Smith had trouble recognizing his former NCO. “He never looked like that when I saw him!”) Ervin had few friends – and evidently preferred things that way – plus one mortal enemy. The source of the conflict was never fully known to the platoon, but rumors flew that Ervin’s young wife Odena was somehow involved in the scandal.
Prior to Roi-Namur, there was a great deal of interest in Company A as to how the “individualist” Ervin would handle himself in battle – in all his experiences overseas, he spent little time under fire. Those questions were all answered in a few hours. As Phil has previously mentioned, Ervin is now up for the Navy Cross – the second-highest valor award – and in a subsequent letter, the lieutenant will describe Ervin’s actions in detail.
The fact that Phil Wood chose Ervin for the role of second in command of the mortar section – a job well above the pay grade of a corporal, that by all rights should have gone to the spit-and-polish Gunnery Sergeant Jay Lohff – is an intense indication of Phil’s newfound respect for Ervin. It proved to be a wise choice. For his part, Ervin warmed to the lieutenant as to few others. “The mutual admiration and respect which grew between the two was obvious,” continued Fred Stott, “and they were a strongly attached pair who worked together as well as any and better than most.”
Exactly what drew the two men together – they had wildly different upbringings, backgrounds, and rank – can only be speculated. Both had lost their fathers; Ervin’s marriage was struggling while Phil’s never came to pass; they both held opinions on military discipline and individuality. Any combination of these factors may be responsible, or perhaps there was something more personal and private between them. Whatever it was, they became an almost inseparable duo, and would remain so until they died together on Saipan.
The Marine Corps Gazette photograph may well be Able Company on Namur – unfortunately, no individual faces are recognizable, nor are there any visible unit markings to confirm Phil’s statement. George Smith (who was there) disputed the claim; he pointed out a Marine with his sleeves rolled up and declared that such informality was never permitted in Captain Irving Schechter‘s company – even on the battlefield.