A Company of Heroes
Page 30
If I wash out of this outfit, I’ll go to the infantry and maybe later to the mechanics or truck driving. You should see my jumpsuits. They have 17 pockets and are full with knives and ammunition, grenades and such stuff. Also carry a pistol. A guy can’t get any good drinking liquor, just Mt. Dew. All the girls want to do is sit at home or go to church. I had a home cooked meal last Sunday at my girlfriend’s place. Boy it sure was good.
Be sure to get that buck for me. Nothing less than 4 points.
Bob
In another letter, Robert described being in E Company to his folks: “This is the best and toughest outfit in the army. It beats the regular army and the navy. It’s like the Marines parachute troops. The definition of a paratrooper is a soldier who lands in hell in a parachute and runs the devil out with his own fork.”
He talked about being on maneuvers in the “frying pan” in Alabama. He joked with his parents about not liking his uniform (evidently they had sent him a letter saying this in the meantime). “Well, the army’s only got two sizes of clothes: too big and too small.”
His letters were written on different camp stationeries to addresses with no streets or zip codes, often as simple as to “Mrs. W. Van Klinken, Pateros, Washington.” He often wrote folksy, newsy notes home to his sister and brother-in-law. In one, postmarked October 12, 1942, from Toccoa, he wrote:Dear Johnny, Susie, Walt, and Sleepy [Sleepy was Robert’s dog]
Haven’t anything to do tonight, so I’ll write you a letter. I got stymied out of a pass tonight so I feel pretty ornery. After doing 7 miles marching last night and 13 miles of double time today I got a little blister on my foot. The C.O. sent me to the dispensary. The medical officer dumped a bucket of paint on it and gave me hell for bothering him. So I didn’t get my pass.
I can’t get used to this darned weather. It’s hotter than hell in the day and frosty at night.
The nuts and persimmons are getting ripe and dropping. I and Dick—[probably PFC Dick Garrod, who was good friends with Van Klinken along with PFC Bill Wingett] he got hooked on his pass, too—and are going out and getting a sack full tomorrow.
What do you think of the snapshot of my lady friend? She is going to be madder than hell at me because I didn’t go to see her and go to church. I sho cain’t figure out these Southern folks. All they want to do is go to church. If a soldier goes to church he gets more invites out to dinner than he can keep in a month.
So long,
Bob
More folksy letters followed with more news of training.
Dear Johnny, Susie, Walt
Hi, you kids look like you got the breaks deer hunting. Sure wish I could have been with you. I sure miss the steaks. Say, could you guys make up a couple of pounds of jerky and send it down.
You’re not the only ones getting the breaks. First I get a PFC rating, then I am in the group of the 10 best men of Co E to run the qualifying course against the battalion. Then I get picked out as 1 of the 5 men in our company for demolition training. Boy, I am working like a cat on a tin roof and really enjoying it.
Robert’s parents were known to be reserved and strict, people who didn’t show affection around each other. They spoke Dutch to each other when they wanted to have private conversations. Robert’s father was twenty years older than his mother. His mother was a very religious and stoic person who dug her own basement, canned her own food, and worked hard around the farm.
Two letters described the march from Toccoa to Atlanta, both before and after, one to his parents, one to Johnny and Susie: Dear Folks,
Just received your letter. I got 2 days before we start marching to Atlanta on our way to Fort Benning. I just got off a 3 day march which covered about 50 or 60 miles. The day before yesterday I walked 31 miles with 20 pounds of T.N.T. on my back. Guess I haven’t told you I am on the demolition squad.
I finished up my training here today and am leaving for Benning Monday. That’s going to be a march of a hundred miles. I am dog tired now, so I’ll be dead on my feet when I get there.
You asked if you could send me something. You could send me a box of oatmeal cookies, but wait till I write you from Benning.
Bob
Dear Johnny and Susie,
Just received your letter, was glad to hear from you. Just got the kinks shook loose in my hind legs after that march. You probably heard about it over the radio or through the newspapers. They sure gave us a write up about it. If you was in this outfit, you’d do more squawking than you do in the Navy Yard. We really catch hell down here. The first night was sure tough. It was raining when we went to bed and it cleared up so we had to climb into frozen clothes and shoes with 2 inches of mud in them. When we got into Atlanta, the “ole man” let us go in town and get cleaned up. You should have seen me and Dick drinking hot brandy while sitting in a hot bath of water.
Believe it or not but I have only been drunk once since I left home. I haven’t anything to worry about and am getting fat on GI chow.
About Christmas the general will pin a set of silver wings on me.
We are having a hell of a lot of trouble with the other outfits. They are jealous as hell that the city of Atlanta gave us a big pennant. Every time someone yells “currahee” there’s hell a popping and the MPs make themselves scarce. Wish you were down here to join the excitement. I won’t be home for Christmas. Don’t expect me until you see me.
So long,
Bob
Right before Christmas 1942, Robert wrote his folks a short letter, which was inserted into a Christmas card, then wrote Johnny and Susie a longer letter describing his jumping and some information about a girlfriend he was becoming serious about.
Dear folks,
Well I am in Benning now. The biggest camp in the U.S. it’s about the size of Wenatchee. I am jumping every day now. I’ll make my last jump Christmas Day. The general will pin a pair of silver wings on me and give me my diploma. Then a bunch of movie stars will give us a big party and a dance.
I’ll start my furlough December 31. I only get 10 days so I won’t be home, but am going to New Orleans. After I get back we will be shipping out and leaving the U.S. I can’t say when but it won’t be long. That will give me a raise in pay to 138 bucks a month. The same as a lieutenant gets in the infantry.
Well, I have to sign off now as I have to go up and jump this morning. It takes me about 56 seconds to come down from 1,500 feet.
Don’t worry about jumping me into combat as I’ll only be in the air 5 or 6 seconds from about 350 to 400 feet. It will also be dark when we jump.
So long,
Bob
Dear Johnny and Susie,
Received your letter and was glad to hear from you guys. I am going to New Orleans as I can’t get any traveling time, so I won’t be home.
Well, I’ve made 6 jumps from a 300 foot tower and haven’t hurt myself. A guy doesn’t hit hard if he makes his downward pull at the right time. I landed pretty hard last night when we jumped in the dark. I couldn’t judge the ground, so I got my feet in position and relaxed. A quite a few of the boys got hurt. Two guys got busted legs and about a dozen sprained ankles. It sure makes you feel funny standing up on the tower and watching them carry one of your buddies off the field on a stretcher. It makes you wonder if you’re the next one.
The shock harness is a son of a gun. They take you up 150 feet. You lay on your belly to put the harness on and take you up in that position. When the sergeant counts 3 you pull the rip cord and freefall for 25 feet. When you hit, the risers hit you. It snaps you up straight and bounces you about 10 feet in the air. It almost shakes your teeth loose.
Well, tomorrow I go up for my first jump out of a plane. I got my chute all packed. We hook up to a 15 foot static line which snaps on the anchor cable in the plane, and stand in the door. When the jump-master says to, you let go of the static and jump out as far as you can, also make a left body turn. The static line rips off the pack cover and pulls out the chute. Then the break cord at the top of the chute
breaks and lets the chute free. You fall about 100 to 125 feet before the chute opens.
It sure is a funny feeling. When you jump you are scared as hell. When the chute opens and jerks hell out of you and you start slowing up, it’s the grandest feeling you ever felt. It’s so peaceful and quiet, just like floating on thistle down. You wonder why you got so damned scared when you jumped. It’s one extreme to the other.
I make my last jump Christmas day if my chutes open and don’t break a few legs. The general is going to pin the silver wings on us then we’ll have a big feed of turkey.
I am going to my girlfriend’s house in New Orleans. I might get married, but I won’t say for sure.
So long,
Bob
P.S. I had to fall out to police up, so I get a little more time to write.
We haven’t made up our minds yet, we might wait till after I get out of the Army. I figure it’s better that way as I’ll be seeing action within a month and a half after I get back from my furlough. There is also a darned good chance of me not coming back.
We go swimming most every day in the Chattahoochee River, so you see the weather is warm. I’m sorry I can’t come home, but I’ll have a good time at my “ole lady’s” house, so don’t expect me.
Bob
He received his jump wings at last, and described some of the dangers in jumping:December 29, 1942
Fort Benning, Georgia
Dear Johnny and Susie
Well, I got my jumps all made and got my wings and diploma which says I’m allowed to jump from a plane in flight. I am sure a happy guy. I’ve waited for those wings a long time.
They say the 2nd Bn. has the highest percentage of qualifications of any outfit that went through Benning. Our average was 87% for 650 men, that’s pretty good. I’ve made 9 jumps so far from 3,000 to 800 feet. For some unexplainable reason you sweat every jump out. It’s something like buck fever only there is a lot of fear to it. The first 2 or 3 times your mind goes blank from the time you hook up and start to the door till the chute opens. Then you have a good time guiding your chute and talking to your buddies around you. When you land it feels like you’re going through the ground.
When I get back after the war, I’ll be gray-headed and my legs will be all stove up. I’ve got 2 torn muscles now.
About 80% of this jumping is guts. Lots of the guys get up to the door and pass out. The prop blast grabs him and he goes out head first. I’ve seen more guys get hurt in the last week than I ever saw before. Anything from broken legs and necks to cracked minds. I saw one guy tear 2 fingers off and take all the flesh off the other three when he grabbed his static line as he went out. He came down alongside of me holding his hand. 12 men go out of the plane in 10 seconds—some speed, huh? Wish you could go out once, that’s the only way of knowing how it feels. A guy just can’t find the words to explain it.
I have to sign off now, so wish me good luck,
Bob
After the New Year he wrote to say he had quit demolitions, considering it too dangerous, and that he was in love with his girlfriend, Joyce. He also described an unorthodox way of commuting back to camp after furlough:January 19, 1943
Dear Johnny and Susie,
I guess you think I am dead by this time, being I haven’t written you since I left on my furlough. I had to go up to Tulsa Oklahoma to see Joyce. She’s a riveter in the Douglas Aircraft in Tulsa.
Johnny, I am the happiest man in the U.S. The little lady is going to wait for me to get out of the Army. She is a girl any man could be proud of. If I don’t get killed or shot up too bad, you’ll see her and me coming back home. She is 23, the same age as I am. She has been married once. Her husband got killed about 2 years ago and she has been pretty lonesome. Johnny, maybe you think I am a damn fool for going with a girl that has been married. I don’t care what you or any of my relatives think about it. Al that matters is that we love each other.
I darned near went AWOL. I sure hated to leave her. We both cried when I got in the plane in Oklahoma City. It cost me a buck for a chute. When I got over the camp I stood in the door and picked me a spot. I jumped out and said, “Joyce, this one’s for you,” and pulled the rip cord. The opening shock knocked hell out of me, but I am so darned happy that nothing can hurt me. I am sorry I didn’t get home, but I think you understand how things are.
Say Johnny, I am doing all right. I hear a rumor I am getting a corporal rating in about a month.
Say Susan, will you make Johnny write me a letter. I want to know what he thinks about the situation. Just ride herd on him and make him write. Well so long.
Jump Happy,
Bob
Always Optimistic
In early 1943, Robert’s father died. Robert received an unexpected furlough back home to Washington, then in February he wrote another letter. It showed some of the family man in him, about his endearment to his younger nephew, Walt, and how he wished to have children of his own someday.
Dear Johnny, Susan, Walt and Sleepy
Well I am back in camp again and found the rest of the outfit. Boy were my buddies tickled to see me. They thought I was AWOL. They didn’t know about the extension.
I hope Susie doesn’t feel too bad about my leaving there so soon. I hated to leave, too, but it’s just one of those things that has to happen. I sure had a good time coming back.
How did Sleepy act when I left? Hope he didn’t feel too lonesome. The poor little rascal.
Walt is sure a sweet little guy. I sure wish I was back home and had a cute little fellow like him to take care of.
Well, I have to sign off now. I have to write on to my “old lady” tonight. She only wrote 11 letters to me while I was on furlough.
So long kids,
Bob
There was a lapse of several months, then he wrote a letter dated simply “Spring 1943”:Dear Johnny and Susie
Boy, you should have seen the first platoon last night. We had to sleep out back of the hutment as a punishment. They let us go to town Saturday night and all day Sunday. Well when we came back we each had a pint or a quart of whiskey. Then we bought 5 cases of beer for chasers. Boy it really was a wild party. We sure got skunk drunk.
Say Johnny, I bought another guitar the other day. Gave 30 bucks for it. It sure is a honey.
So long,
Bob “Rip” Van Klinken
On April 17, 1943, Robert wrote to say he was dumped by his girlfriend, Joyce, who had met another guy. Bob remained upbeat and optimistic, or at least wrote through the lens of a paratrooper’s bravado. He had also spent some time in the camp hospital, along with fellow paratrooper Wayne “Skinny” Sisk.
Dear Johnny and Susie,
Have only had about 8 hours of sleep in the last 2 nights and sleeping out on the ground. It’s cold too. I am on guard tonight so I won’t get any sleep. I am very unhappy as I got a date for tonight to go boat riding and can’t get out of the camp. Who wouldn’t be? You should see the Carolina moon.
We got 25 miles for next Monday with full pack. That’s going to be tough.
You heard of that bobcat we swiped? Well we got another jump coming up around the 20th so we are going to jump him too. Sure wish you could see us hit the silk. It really is quite a sight. About 100 chutes in the air at once.
Well it looks like I got “outranked” by a 1st lieutenant from Fort Sill, Oklahoma. She figures the duration is too long to wait. Anyway, it’s all over and it makes no difference. As Johnnie Rogers says, “I can get more women than a passenger train can haul.”
I think I’ll stay in the Army the next 30 years or so and get a pension. After all, it’s a pretty soft life in peace time. That is if I am lucky enough to come back in one piece.
You should have seen me and Skinny when we were resting up in the barracks after we got out of the hospital. We really went on a good one. We were drunk for 3 days. The last night we had 3 quarts. We were so drunk we couldn’t stand up, so we wound up shooting craps laying across a bed. We couldn’
t get up.
So long,
“Rip”
Life in the army continued. Robert moved around on maneuvers from Benning to Fort Mitchell in Alabama, then to Camp Hoffman in North Carolina, then to Camp Mackall. He wrote about getting into a bar fight: Dear Johnny and Susie
Sure sorry to hear that Walt has the flu. Sure hope he is better.
There isn’t much to write about except getting myself in a jam up in Raleigh a few weeks ago. I got fined 20 bucks and 3 weeks restriction. A civilian pulled a knife on one of the boys, so 3 of us 506th and 2 from the 505th cleaned out the joint. We did a pretty fair job too. I ruined my blouse in the deal so I have to buy a new one. It cost about 9 dollars. I’ve just pulled 17 hours K.P. in the officer’s mess hall so I am pretty tired. Tomorrow we pull out for another week in the field. Go ahead and send the cookies to the address on the envelope.