A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.”?
2. In what movie did we hear, “But at night time when there was nothing to do and the house was empty, I’d always think of Jenny.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear:
   Gimme a ticket for an aeroplane
   Ain’t got time to take a fast train.
   Lonely days are gone, I’m a-goin’ home
   My baby just wrote me a letter.

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Note: This post is an updated version of an earlier post I wrote in 2020. It’s been a busy summer so far: traveling  and volunteer work—it’s all good, man!

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Letter writing has almost become a pastime for many of us. Back in the mid-70s, when I served in the Navy, people always welcomed letters from home.

I’m willing to bet that most people still like receiving letters and cards today. But our “instant” society typically uses short emails and even shorter texts to communicate. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it takes away from the real heart of letter writing.

Stay with me here.

Back in the 70s, during my short, 4-year stint in the Navy (actually, Three Years, Eleven Months, & 29 Days: But Who’s Counting), my mom wrote a letter to me almost every week. My dad was a lawyer in Gainesville, Florida and always had plenty of legal-size yellow pads—that’s what my mom used to scribe her weekly “newsletter.”

She’d usually start writing the letter on a Monday or Tuesday and write a little almost every day, filling me in on what was happening in their lives, my sister (who also wrote regularly), friends, and other family members.

Then, she’d finish it up on the weekend and get it in the mail first of the week. Sometimes, my dad or another visiting family member would add in a paragraph or two. Her letters, all handwritten in beautiful cursive script, would often top 10 or more pages.

Depending on where I was at the time (NAS Agana, Guam, or at sea aboard USS Kitty Hawk), the mail would take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks to reach me. Keep in mind, when you’re on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the Navy flies a plane out to deliver mail. If you’re lucky, it’s a daily flight.

But, when you’re out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the beautiful, blue ocean and clean, clear air, there’s nothing like hearing, “Mail Call” over the ship’s 1MC intercom and receiving a letter from home.

No matter how crappy a day you may have had, letters from home were a welcome treat.

The only exception I can recall is a “Dear John” type letter. I know a few guys who got those, but they eventually got over it, especially when we hit the next port call.

I still have the letters I wrote home—all of them. My mom kept them for me. I recently re-read the first letter I wrote from boot camp, just after I arrived.

I’ll spare you the details, but the letter begins, “This place around here is a hellhole. We have to ask for everything or be given an order to do anything.”

Yep, that pretty much summed up Boot Camp at Orlando RTC. But, when I graduated boot camp and ABH “A” school (Lakehurst, NJ) and transferred out into the “real” Navy, things dramatically improved.

The last few letters I wrote home from Kitty Hawk showed a slight improvement. Well, actually, a grand improvement ever since I had been promoted to a Second Class Petty Officer (ABH-2). Of course, I knew I was coming home soon (30 days and a wake-up; 20 days and a wake up; and so on).

Believe it or not, I also have my father’s letters he wrote home to his parents during World War II. He was an officer in the 80th Infantry Division and didn’t complain as much as I, an enlisted man, did. Despite that, reading his letters and knowing where he was when he wrote them told me a lot about my father that I might not have known while growing up.

Comparing the letters he wrote home to the diary (now a book) was, in a word, astounding. His letters never revealed the days or weeks of hell he and other WWII soldiers endured.

I guess “The Greatest Generation” didn’t want their parents to worry about them during the war.

Unfortunately, I don’t have those long letters my mom wrote; you bet your sweet bippy I wish I did.

But, there was limited storage room on the ship (we slept in racks, stacked three-high—mine was the middle rack, in case you were wondering). Our storage was limited to the “coffin locker” below our rack, and it didn’t offer much space. So, I had to toss my mom’s letters. But, the memories are certainly still there.

Today’s Navy, and actually almost all the military, now can receive almost instantaneous communications from home. Whether it be by cell phone, email, or text, our military service personnel can still have that personal connection.

I still like receiving letters, cards, and packages. But I can certainly understand the differences today.

Back in my day, if you were a sailor out in the big blue and your wife was expecting a baby, it would be a week or so before you’d hear about the birth (unless she or your parents sent a telegram). But it would still be awhile before you saw the first pictures.

To counter that “instant communication,” let me also share with you another story.

After Boot Camp and “A” School in Lakehurst, NJ, the Navy shipped me to NAS Agana, Guam for 15 months. Back in the day, I had several college-age women friends who wrote me from FSU. FYI … I went to college right out of high school, but flunked out with a “Dismissed for Academic Reasons” letter. I couldn’t understand … my G.P.A. was a solid 0.7.

Anyway, many of the women who wrote me that first year would dab a bit of perfume on the letters. That was always welcomed, and many times, the other guys in the division would want to know a little more about that particular person.

I say that because until they invent a “scratch & sniff” email system, nothing will replace the love of receiving letters from home.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books (www.azadkinsiii.com), many of which are free downloads (PDF, eBook format). He is currently retired and lives in Gainesville, Florida with his wife and life-long soulmate, Becky.

Previous Blogs mentioned in this Post:

• #53—You Always Remember Your First
• #25—“Livin’ the Dream:” Life Aboard an Aircraft Carrier
• #117—“Mail Call”
• #97—Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned in … Boot Camp?
• #52—30 Days and a Wake Up!
• #45—WWII Baptism by Fire, 76 Years Ago
• #99—Dismissed for Academic Reasons

Answers:

1. Phyllis Theroux.
2. Forrest Gump (1994), Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks).
3. The Letter (1967), The Box Tops; written by Wayne Carson.