March 9, 1944 – Letters home from the Anzio beachhead

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March 9, 1944 – Letters home from the Anzio beachhead

After a long-night’s work, from dusk to first light, on the Anzio beachhead, Dad and his A&P platoon would head back to Regimental Headquarters for breakfast and sleep. However, Dad always had his men write home, as he himself did. He’d have to censor their letters, as his would be also. Here are a couple of his letters home.

Dearest Mother & Dad:

Time to write a note. Do hope you have been having better luck with my mail than I have been having with anyone’s.

Things have been quiet around here for the last few days, except for a little arty. All this has been on no help to me. My platoon and I have been laying a barbed wire fence around the Bn. [battalion] in front of the lines and because it has been so quiet we have been able to work almost all nite.

Around here, because the ground is so flat, everything has to be done at nite. There is almost no movement during the daylight hours. So the men have to lay in their foxholes all the day long.

But at nite every on works hard to get as much done as can be. Nite before last it was raining and pitch black, you couldn’t see a thing. But we did a good amount of work.

Give everyone my love & keep writing, for when my mail does catch up with me, I want a lot.

Your loving son

Phil

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Dearest Aunt Leota [his father’s only sibling]:

Again I have to humble my self to you for not writing in so long a time. Every time I write I seem to have to find some excuse for not having written in so long a time.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come to New York while I was at Fort Meade but they wouldn’t let me get that far away from camp. I should have called then.

But they got me in a place where I can’t do to much running around now. I am kept quite busy tho. Boy in this war they sure do keep us busy all the time.

I never did write you any thanks for the money you sent but it was swell of you. I’m saving every cent I can so when I get back, Marilyn will have finished college, and we will be able to get married. That is if it isn’t so long that she will have for gotten all about me. Let us hope.

Give Uncle Walter [for whom I was named] my regards and tell him there is so many things I would like to talk to him about now. Give every one me love.

With love,

Phil

In case you haven’t read or listened to Dad’s book, you can learn more or order it here.


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