Dress your G.I. Joe

Welcome to the Army. Here at Ft. Leavenworth we have a lack of clothes that fit you. Therefore, you can't leave the post. A lack of work clothes is good news/bad news as you also can't have KP or go on details. Instead you go out policing the grounds where you pick up "everything that isn't nailed down or growing or that bites."

Ft. Leavenworth sounds more like Camp Kiwanis, my sixties Camp Fire Girl camp on the Blue River in Milford, Nebraska, than I would have expected. Dad writes home to his Ma with the odd expression, "please send right soon." He needs socks, underwear "that [sic] in good shape," stamps, electric razor, towels & wash rags.

[Please, Ma, I know we are just coming out of the Great Depression, but don't send the underwear with holes or tired elastic!] I totally relate as the mother of teen sons! Sending the guys off to college I always requested they not bring the towels home at the end of the year. Too darn scary!

It cost a whopping six cents to airmail a letter, although Dad had the option of free military mail. Through the war the speed of mail delivery is amazing. Not exactly Amazon Prime free two-day delivery, but fast.

Early sixties G.I. Joe doll/action figures, like Ken, had strange fuzzy yellow scalps. My dad reports it took only four minutes to achieve that look.  Buzzzzzzz.

Postmarked April 5, 1943

Please send right soon

Through the war Ma sends many more stamps and briefs, plus gym attire for boxing sessions at Georgetown. It just surprised me how often and how much the folks back home were providing basics for soldiers. 

One outfit Ma sent touched my heart--a set of hand-knit dog tag sweaters. 

Dog tag sweaters

Healthy as hell

© 2013-2018 Nancy L. Ruder