July 7, 1943, Dear Mom and Pop, Love Joe

I found this letter from my dad to Grandma Koch particularly interesting because he explains what he is actually doing at Lordsburg.

Wednesday, July 7, 1943

Dear Mom and Pop,

All my letters from New York have been complaining about your recent heat spell. Strangely enough, all last week was rather cool out here, because it was cloudy. We've been having some rain, but it didn't make it any cooler, This afternoon in our office, it must have been at least 110 degrees. Right now, the sun in shining brightly, it's raining with thunder and lightning, and we are having a dust storm--all at once.

As I tell Mary, I find it hard to imagine rationing. We get meat three times a day; the sugar bowl on our table is always filled, and we usually have butter. If the meat situation is as tough as you say it is, perhaps one of the girls might copy what the wife of one of our New York boys did. She was a dancer in a USO show, "Hit the Deck," which closed because all the male actors were drafted. When she got back to Jackson Heights, she abandoned show business and got a job as a bookkeeper for a wholesale butcher.

It's a wonder you didn't have to call in the FBI to locate your missing ration book.  You don't have to worry about all the points I'll eat up if and when I get my furlough. All I will have to do is present my furlough  papers to the ration board, and they will give me coupons for 1 lb. sugar, l lb. coffee, some meat points. and some other food points.

Well there have certainly been some changes since I wrote a long letter home. The censor's office was closed down, and I was assigned as a company clerk for 250 Italians. Each group of that many prisoners of war was to have a lieutenant, a 1st sgt., a  supply sgt., a mess sgt.;, a cook, an orderly, and a company clerk-that's me. For the week before the Italians actually arrived, everyone had to pitch in to clean up their barracks, set up cots, fill mattresses with straw, and quite a number of similar jobs.

In the meantime, however, just as I got up to the mattress filling, a sgt. in the Finance office of the camp was transferred, so I wandered in to see if I could get the job. From that first day, when I still had straw in my hair and ears and eyes, I've been working in the Finaace Office.  There is only two of us who do all the finance work for the camp. Our boss if Capt. Balch, a Frenchman from Louisiana, but all he does as far as we are concerned is to sign papers.

We have to figure out the payrolls for all the enlisted men and officers of the post and also for the civilian employees. In addition, we have a pay out furlough money, travel pay, etc., and fill out a thousand and one forms. The work is slightly difficult because of the red tape in the form of books and books filled with Army regulations.

On the day before payday, Frank Reichart, the chief clerk of the FO and myself, armed with revolvers--great big Wild West six shooters-go down to the First National Bank of Lordsburg to count the payroll and bring it beach to camp. We take with us three guards armed with submachine guns. Last month we had to count about thirty five thousand dollars. That's just the pay of the soldiers and civilians; the officers are paid by check.

A week ago Monday, the Italian PWs arrived, over 1500 of them. Most of them had been captured on Cape Bon in Tunisia, and only one or two could speak English. You can imagine the confusion that resigned for the first few days. Just now they are getting around to fingerprinting them. They were captured during the first week in May and have been traveling since. Just three hours after they landed in Boston, they were on the way to Lordsburg. The three hours were used to delouse them.

We got no officers, just enlisted men, and most of them seem to be glad that the war is over for them. Their first question after eating was would they get three meals a day like this one. They really cleaned their plates--the only things thrown in the garbage pail were prune pits. Most of them are in fine physical condition and appear to be excellent soldiers. At least as far as marching is concerned, for they march much better than the half-baked soldiers we have at this camp. Of course they should; they've spent years marching back and forth across Libya. They were impressed by the American planes and the British Eighth Army, but claim the only reason they lost was lack of equipment.

Here at camp, they are all anxious to work. In a way it's too bad that I didn't stay in the compound as company clerk; I might have learned Italian.

I finally got around to taking pictures with my camera, but as you might expect, most of them are scenery. I sent one set to Mary to start an album with as I figured she's already done so ,while the Koch's Mary or Agnes will be still thinking of it next Christmas.  Since I've appointed Mary as my picture editor--if you want to see them, you'll have to invite her over to dinner some night--tell  her to bring the album.  (Aside to Agnes, we still write to each other every day, and our letters seem to be getting longer too. ) Mary's brother Jim got a lucky break. After finishing at Notre Dame, he received his commission as an ensign, got a two week leave, and then was sent back to Ohio State to take some more courses in preparation for becoming a teacher…..

I'm glad to hear that everything is going along well at home including Pop's victory garden. The garden which the Japs left is still producing. I never had so many radishes in my life. How are you getting by now that income tax is taking a big chunk out of defense salaries? Did you renew the lease?

I have to say goodbye now as we're required to listen to a reading of the articles of war.

Love to all,
Joe