Fighting Fascism in Europe: The World War II Letters of an American Veteran of the Spanish Civil War

2. Officer Candidate School and Military Intelligence Training: Fort Belvoir, Virginia and Camp Ritchie, Maryland: November 9, 1942–July 31, 1943

2 Officer Candidate School and Military Intelligence Training: Fort Belvoir, Virginia and Camp Ritchie, Maryland November 9, 1942–July 31, 1943 Fort Belvoir, Virginia 13 November 1942 My Darling Gracie; Look what I’ve been forced to do. My bags haven’t arrived yet, so I’ve got to improvise. This is a menu folder. What I’m going to do about underwear, socks, clothes, etc.—I still don’t know. I’m so dirty my drawers are on the verge of crawling off into a corner somewhere and dying of shame. I can’t write much on this kind of stationery, sweetheart. But, this is a place I couldn’t even dream of before for discipline and strictness. Everything we do is on the double (which means on the run in civilian talk). And I mean everything—study, eat, wash, write, move your bowels, drill, etc. And do they keep us at attention ! Some morning soon I expect to wake up at reveille and find that I went to sleep standing at attention like an Egyptian mummy. This is absolutely the toughest officers’ school in the Army, both physically and mentally. It’s going to take everything I’ve got to get through, past experience to the contrary notwithstanding. They say they get easier on us in a couple of weeks. I suspect they don’t get easier—we just get used to it! Don’t worry if you don’t get mail every day, my baby. We’re on the go 16 hours out of every 24—not much time to write. 32 FIGHTING FASCISM IN EUROPE I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. I’m about 3000 miles closer to you now—can you feel it? . . . All my love, Larry Fort Belvoir, Virginia 15 November 1942 Hello My Baby; This is Sunday. Do you think we’ve got the day off? Not on your life. We’ve been out doing the manual of arms all morning, and before that we had an inspection. After looking over the schedule for the next two weeks, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is humanly impossible to complete all the reading assignments. You could, I guess, if they gave you a month to prepare for a week’s work—but in 12 study hours a week? Never! Darling, you could never pass in this joint. Everything must be as exact and precise as a lathe turning out stuff to the ten-thousandth of an inch. I bet there’ll be no living with me when I’m finished here. The officers have microscopic eyes. Anything 1/16 of an inch out of line merits restrictions, a calling down, and the wrath of God. A speck of dust, a quiver of the eyelids, and an officer is on your neck—insulting you like an army manual come to life. For instance, take some things we do around here. When you walk, it must be at attention—and I mean attention! No talking, looking right or left, or swinging the arms with a break at the elbow or more than 6⬙ to the front 3⬙ to the rear. That applies whenever we’re outside the barracks. Makes us look like mechanical men. When you talk it must be right out of the manual. When you eat you get 10 minutes! The food is splendid, but I haven’t had time to taste it yet. When we go from one place to another we ‘‘double-time.’’ OFFICER CANDIDATE SCHOOL AND INTELLIGENCE TRAINING 33 And so on ad infinitum. But, really, this place will probably be fine for me. If I make good, I’ll learn a great deal, I’ll be in swell physical condition, and I’ll really be on my toes. Everything is geared to high speed for 16 hrs a day. I guess they figure if you break down under it, you’re not capable of being an officer. Well, thousands have been able to do it. I expect I’m as good as the next guy, so I’m in there pitching. Darling, I’ll be seeing you soon. Our first weekend will be all our own. No relatives, no friends, no interruptions. Just the two of us, sweetheart— Your own, Larry Fort Belvoir, Virginia 19 November 1942 Darling; No time to write, no time to breathe. Every second crammed with scurrying around, formations, classes, drill, study...