Today we have excerpts from two letters written a year apart from soldier Harry Lowell to his sister Eva in San Francisco. In letter from 1943, he is stationed in Fort Francis E. Warren in Wyoming for quartermaster training. In the second from 1944, he is stationed in New Guinea.

May 2, 1943

Dear Sis,

First of all, many returns of the day and all that (how old are you anyhow?) I trust that my present has reached you by now. How do you like it? …

Thank you very much for your letter; a soldier wants a lot of mail as I have found out. Get people (I don’t care who) to write to me; thank you. That poem was pretty good. …

After our Co. “C” volleyball team defeated all eleven companies of the first regiment, three of the “C” team were selected for the regimental team (I am in it, of course). You ought to see me among all the seven footers; it makes me look like Gulliver. Next week is the tournament which will decide the championship of the whole big fort. We played tackle football at mass games yesterday; we played without any protection at all. What a slaughter! There wasn’t one of us that didn’t limp to the barrack holding some part of his anatomy. We really had a lot of fun, by gum. …

Cheyenne is a pretty small town; the civilians don’t care much for soldiers at all. But I’ll get acquainted all right. (With my charm – it’s a cinch – naturellement Ha, ha! Sheech!) I’ll do my best anyway. I am getting tired of looking at soldiers all the time. When I go to town, I see nothing but soldiers, soldiers, and soldiers. The number of the inhabitants of Cheyenne is equal to that of the fort. It is easy to understand the feelings of the Cheyenne people towards soldiers. … 

Well nurse, I gotta close; there are a few more letters to be written.

Repeating my hearty good wishes, I remain

Your humble brother,
Harry.

P.S. I couldn’t get a frame for the portrait. Get one yourself. 

The portrait Harry mentions may be the one below.

New Guinea
May 2, 1944

 Dear Eva,

I herewith acknowledge four of your delightful little V-letters, dated April 6, 10, 12, and 18. I must say your writing habits have improved; I remember the times when I was lucky to hear from you once a month. Is it because you have nothing to do or have you finally come to the realization that it’s nice to have a big brother? But seriously, it’s really nice to hear from you twice a week; it sort of keeps the bonds together, you know.

I started this letter with the intention of dedicating it entirely to your forthcoming birthday but I got on the wrong track. (If there has been any strong sarcasm in my first paragraph, forgive me.) Coming back to your birthday, it seems but a few years that I saw you in the cradle – a bundle of helplessness and shrieks. (Who would ever have thought that a pretty woman would develop from that little bundle, oh yes!) I remember quite clearly when Father and Mother showed you off in the neighborhood. Good old memories, it seems like yesterday! 

Well, sister, I had a few presents in mind that I would have liked you to have, but circumstances do not allow me to send them to you from here; take the good will for a present and cash in on it when I return.

How does it feel to grow older every year? (The reason I ask you that is because men here in New Guinea grow old semi-annually.) Now in conclusion of my birthday address I wish you many happy returns. Amen.

So you would not listen to the advice of your brother and others regarding that Standard Oil deal, eh? It had to be a pilot that changed your mind; anyway, I am glad you changed your mind.

I have been transferred from my old company to Headquarters. It’s kind of tough to leave an outfit that I have been with for so long, but I’ll get used to my new surroundings soon. I am now, what is called a desk soldier. … Yep, it’s a great life! At the induction center I was asked what I’d like to do in the army and what branch I’d like to get into. I told the classification officer that I’d like to get in the fight and emphasized that I do not want to get into the Quartermaster or work in an office. He complied with my request and shoved me into the QM; anyway, I was fortunate enough to be part of a truck outfit which gave me a chance to fire machine guns, AAA guns, and bazookas, and to follow a semi-infantry training program. Now, fate has willed that I be at a desk. You know, at times I feel like…a slacker – sitting at a desk while other men are out there getting killed or enduring hardships. I know you’ll say I don’t know when I’m well off – I do – but that’s the way I feel sometimes (Well, I got that off my chest.).

I received the March copy of the Readers’ Digest for which I thank you…. 

There aren’t any interesting events that I could talk about, so I’ll come to the close of my letter. I am surprised I could write as much as I did considering the censorship regulations, etc.

Give my best regards to Paul, Ursula and family (including the serpents, lizards, and rabbits)….

Keep up boosting my morale by writing.

Your loving brother,
Harry

P.S. I am looking forward to some snapshots and photos of you.
P.P.S. My new address is on the envelope.

In earlier letters from Harry, we learned of Eva’s desire to get a job far away. He has been trying to convince her not to take a job with Standard Oil. At this point she has chosen not to do so, but not because of any advice from family.

For those of you paying close attention, Harry is Eva’s younger brother. In this letter he pokes fun and imagines that the roles were reversed. He may have been thinking of this photo from 1924 in Vienna, with Harry in the foreground and Eva cut off at the side:

I have one other artifact that I think was a birthday gift – I remember hearing it in the 1960s or 1970s. It is a cardboard record that Harry made while he was in the army. In my memory of it, he is singing “Happy Birthday” to Eva, presumably in 1943 or 1944. I tried playing it on a turntable this year but was unsuccessful. You can read more about such recordings and hear an example of one here.