Company L, 129th Infantry
Camp Forrest
Tullahoma, Tennessee
9:30 P.M., Tuesday, June 9, 1942
From the Diary of James Gregory
*(A symbol which Jim used to designate the days he wrote a letter to Emma. Checkmarks indicate that he received a letter from her.)
Wrote to Emma. Packed junk. Rumor about going to Oklahoma.
From the Pen of James Gregory to "Dearest Emma"
Hon, I didn't know whether to start by calling you "Emma" or "Sweetheart." To me the name "Emma" is sweeter than "Sweetheart" so I'll call you both.
Everyone I saw today asked me, "Did you get married?" When I said, "No" they all asked, "Why?" to which I answered, "Oh, just cause," or something like that. Doggone it, they got me feeling punk again. Then just awhile ago we had a half-hour blackout during which time I flopped on my bunk, thinking and missing you more than ever. I keep trying to make myself believe that everything will turn out for the best and I sure hope it will.
Emma Dearest, I never want to lose you and I want you always to be happy. If I thought you wanted the moon, I'd try to get it for you. I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't go at things differently about three weeks ago. I thought before you came that I loved you as much as a man could love but now I know I was wrong. I love you so much more that I believe that love has no limit.
I'm saying all this because it's the way I feel. Honey, though I have no reason to doubt that you love me as much, I wish you would tell me the same, tell me no other man will ever have a chance, providing Jim G. does his part and very best and learns to better handle his money, feet and temper.
I'll do better from now on, I promise.
Now, if I don't want my hair pulled I better add a little news and get back on the beam as I have to go on guard tomorrow so I'll be studying till midnight.
First off, everyone said to send you their love and best wishes.
Things were all stirred up last week. Col. Poust was discharged as Regimental Commander, the Lt. Colonel with the two dogs took over. Capt. Webb got a good job in Washington.
Today we put up our tents out in somebody's woods about halfway to Manchester. This evening I packed everything I have so we can move it to my little tent tomorrow.
The weather is a little nicer than it was in Ohio.
No more Tullahoma sunshine after June 29th, cactus blooms for soldiers on windy Sill for six times seven days hense. Um, Cowboys and Injuns. (I think he's referring to the pending move to Tent City, but maybe not.)
Got in yesterday at 1 p.m., came out here, cleaned up, payed the rest of my bills, bought $6.00 worth of clothes at the Q.M. (Quarter Masters) and saw that show, "The Man Who Came to Dinner." Honey, it was as you said, swell. When the show was over I came home, counted the 9 dollars and few odd cents I had left and hit the quilts at 10:00 p.m.
Gee, I gotta take a shower and shave yet tonight as it's my last chance so I must close, hoping to hear from you very soon.
Good-night and may God bless the sweetest, greatest girl in the world.
Love and kisses,
Your Jimmy
During World War II, my parents corresponded with one another, with family members and with friends through letters, greeting cards and "Victory Mail," a photocopy of a letter written within a border and mailed. At times letters took as much as three weeks, even up to six months, before Jimmy or Emma read their spouse's sentiments, worries and celebrations. Enjoy and read along.
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