DIY History | Transcribe | World War II Diaries and Letters | David R. Elder correspondence, June-July 1944

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David R. Elder correspondence, June-July 1944

1944-07-08 Page 1

Dear Dave, 
Just received your Scuttlebutt No. 14, and good reading it is, too. Hope you keep me on the mailing list for as long as you keep writing them. 
Not much news from this part of the United Kingdom. So have a good deal of "California sunshine (liquid, G.I., Mark I)". But between showers my wife and I have started doing a bit of hiking. Take me back to my boy scout days, actually, good exercise, though, and it's about the only way I'll manage to drag myself out into the fresh air. This office work isn't all it's cracked up to be. Oh, yes. It's really a tough war for me, sitting here wearing a callous on my a__. 
Has anyone made the suggestion that if you could manage to include A.P.O. or F.P.O. number of the fellows whose letters you quote in 'The Mail Bag', it would give some of us a change to look up or write old friends in the same theater of operations after two years and four months on this side of the cold gray Atlantic, I'd certainly welcome the sight of anyone  from the home town. (With the boys back home could see me now -- back home!)
Just happened to think-you were the one/I learned that song--Kipling's poem "the Ladies' better known as 'I learned about women from 'er." We were out riding or hiking. If i remember correctly. A good many years ago, that was. In fact, I think I can thank you for the introduction to Kipling--because in looking up all the words to that, I found a great deal of his work that appealed to me. Of course, of late I've been learning more Irish songs and poems than English--and my wife tells me I've even picked up a bit of her brogue. Wouldn't that be something--and  mid-west drawl with an Irish [broguel?]. Actually I will, I mean to say. Why, dash it all, the natives will hardly understand me when i return to the land of my birth. Anyway, I give fair warning, that when I do get back, after the tenth bottle of Pabst or Schlits, I'm quite liable to burst into song, with a touching rendition of "The Rose of Trales". "In Dublin's Fair City", or "I belong to Glasgow". And that reminds me--I wish to hell I had a case of Pabst or Schlits. The beer here isn't too bad, but my taste is more for the lively, foamy, American beer. About the closest thing they have to it over here is their ale, and it's flat and lifeless in comparison. And Scotch whiskey still tastes more like medicine than whiskey, to me. And the gin it After nine months of drinking that I went into the hospital with ulcers. Wish you would start a campaign to substitute a few cases of rye, bourbon, and blended whiskeys (Calvert's, preferably) for the tons of dehydrated eggs they send over here. 
Was very sorry to hear of Hayden Hughes' death. I knew him fairly well in the days before i joined the Navy. You're doing a good job in keeping a fellow informed. There's more news in your Scuttlebitt of people I know that I'd get any other way. 
Cheerio for now and all the best. 
[illegible]

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Dear Dave, Just received your Scuttlebutt No. 14, and good reading it is, too. Hope you keep me on the mailing list for as long as you keep writing them. Not much news from this part of the United Kingdom. So have a good deal of "California sunshine (liquid, G.I., Mark I)". But between showers my wife and I have started doing a bit of hiking. Take me back to my boy scout days, actually, good exercise, though, and it's about the only way I'll manage to drag myself out into the fresh air. This office work isn't all it's cracked up to be. Oh, yes. It's really a tough war for me, sitting here wearing a callous on my a__. Has anyone made the suggestion that if you could manage to include A.P.O. or F.P.O. number of the fellows whose letters you quote in 'The Mail Bag', it would give some of us a change to look up or write old friends in the same theater of operations after two years and four months on this side of the cold gray Atlantic, I'd certainly welcome the sight of anyone from the home town. (With the boys back home could see me now -- back home!) Just happened to think-you were the one/I learned that song--Kipling's poem "the Ladies' better known as 'I learned about women from 'er." We were out riding or hiking. If i remember correctly. A good many years ago, that was. In fact, I think I can thank you for the introduction to Kipling--because in looking up all the words to that, I found a great deal of his work that appealed to me. Of course, of late I've been learning more Irish songs and poems than English--and my wife tells me I've even picked up a bit of her brogue. Wouldn't that be something--and mid-west drawl with an Irish [broguel?]. Actually I will, I mean to say. Why, dash it all, the natives will hardly understand me when i return to the land of my birth. Anyway, I give fair warning, that when I do get back, after the tenth bottle of Pabst or Schlits, I'm quite liable to burst into song, with a touching rendition of "The Rose of Trales". "In Dublin's Fair City", or "I belong to Glasgow". And that reminds me--I wish to hell I had a case of Pabst or Schlits. The beer here isn't too bad, but my taste is more for the lively, foamy, American beer. About the closest thing they have to it over here is their ale, and it's flat and lifeless in comparison. And Scotch whiskey still tastes more like medicine than whiskey, to me. And the gin it After nine months of drinking that I went into the hospital with ulcers. Wish you would start a campaign to substitute a few cases of rye, bourbon, and blended whiskeys (Calvert's, preferably) for the tons of dehydrated eggs they send over here. Was very sorry to hear of Hayden Hughes' death. I knew him fairly well in the days before i joined the Navy. You're doing a good job in keeping a fellow informed. There's more news in your Scuttlebitt of people I know that I'd get any other way. Cheerio for now and all the best. [illegible]