Read Last Days of Summer Online

Authors: Steve Kluger

Tags: #Humour, #Adult, #Historical, #Young Adult

Last Days of Summer (19 page)

T
HE
W
HITE
H
OUSE

Dear Joey:

Thank you for your most recent letter. Although I am unable to “sneak you into the Army” per your request, there are plenty of important jobs here at home that will require someone with your persistence—such as selling war bonds, collecting scrap metal, and perhaps donating some of your time to the USO and other service organizations. Naturally, praying would be helpful, too. And try not to worry more than the President. Though we were unprepared for the attack on Hawaii, we are quite ready for war.

It was a pleasure meeting you after all this time. However, before your next visit, you and I will have to discuss the concept of protocol. Among other things, it is not appropriate to ask the First Lady to dance. I'm aware that I don't have much of a leg to stand on, given the fact that she accepted your invitation (twice)—so perhaps you'll just have to trust me on that score.

Congratulations to you and Charlie. You both deserve it.

Cordially as always,
Stephen T. Early
Press Secretary

Dec. 18, 1941

D
EAR
J
OEY
,

Me and Hazel got an early Christmas present. Stuke. When we opened the door he even had a ribbon around his neck.

Anyway we sat up all last night and talked about what they did to us at P. Harbor and I guess you can tell what is coming next. If you do not see us playing with the NY Giants for a while it is on account of we will be wearing a whole different type of uniform instead. Those son of a bitches started this thing

Eight days and eight nights did the
lights burn for Judah Maccabee
.

Wishing you the same joy
.

Happy Hanukkah
.

and now it is up to us to finish it. But before we do, I am going to need you to grow up a little faster than we thought because your the one who will be taking care of your Mom and Aunt Carrie and Hazel until we get back. Is this OK with you? Because I won't go unless it is. Even though I really want to.

Happy 1942. We had a good year, huh?

Charlie

P.S. We figured out that it should be the Marines. They know how to kick ass better than anybody. McArthur doesn't even know how to order lunch. And screw the Navy. Who ever heard of winning a war in white pants???

P.S.2. And I still do not see how one damn light could burn for 8 days. Tell Aunt Carrie that somebody is pulling her leg.

Dec. 21, 1941

D
EAR
C
HARLIE
,

I got a letter from Steve Early at the White House and he thinks that you should stay right here because there are lots of more important ways you can win the war than just fighting. Like what if instead of enlisting you signed baseballs to sell War Bonds? I'll bet you could make at least a million dollars. Or you could go around the country to all of the boot camps and play exhibition games with the guys who are training there. It would get them in a really good mood before they shipped out.

Wishing you all the happiness
that only Christmas brings
.

Anyway, I think Steve Early is right. So can you at least think about it? Roosevelt likes you. If you say you don't want to go, he won't make you do it.

Joey

P.S. Smokes, what if I get somebody pregnant or start drinking whisky or smoking cigars while you're gone? I can get in a lot of trouble if I'm by myself, you know.

P.S.2. 1941 was the best year of my life. 1942 stinks already.

P.S.3. If I can figure out a way to get in the Marines, can I go with you? Remember they have bugle boys, and I already know how to play your sax. I promise that I wouldn't get in the way and I'd do everything you told me. I'd even blame Henrich. Please?

Dear Charles,

So all of a sudden you're Sergeant York? It's enough you play baseball, now this. What's next—cowboys yet?

Guns are dangerous. What do you know about loading one? I read the papers. How many accidents do you think are caused by people who don't know from
bupkis
? All of them. And the Marines yet. Watch them send you to the Philippines. I've heard what passes for food there. You want diarrhea until you're 95? Already you're too thin.

You won't hear another word from me. The subject is closed. Don't worry about Joey and Hazel, we'll keep them busy until you get back. But 48 years I'm here and this I can promise: if anything should happen to you over there, you won't hear the end of it.

Aunt Carrie

Alexander Hamilton Junior High School

To: Charles Banks

From: Herbert Demarest, Principal

Re: Joseph Margolis

Dear Charles:

I write at this time to express my deep concern for Joseph's well being. I have been a school principal for 25 years and I have never seen a student in such terrible shape. He has lost at least 10 lbs. in the last two weeks, he does not speak very often any more, and he is failing all of his subjects. Also, his mother tells me that he stays locked in his room with the lights off most of the time, except when he is out late with his new friends The Scavengers, a group of 17 year old boys who carry knives and pistols. He probably won't even get into college now. What a pity. Such a promising lad too. I would be surprised if he lived to see 16.

Charles, after you finish boot camp in South Carolina, maybe you can ask the USMC to transfer you to their Headquarters in New York. That way you can serve your country and keep your eye on the boy at the same time. Lord knows somebody better. I fear for him, Charles.

Sincerely,
Herbert Demarest
Principal

Parris Island, SC
Jan. 6, 1942

Dear Joey,

“He does not speak very often anymore”???? What a laugh. Bucko you would still be talking if you were knocked out cold and in a comma.

Couple of hints for next time. (1) Your principle calls me Mr. Banks not Charles. (2) He never signs his whole name but his initials, HD. (3) If he has been a principle for 25 years, then I am May West. (4) Now give him back his stationary and cut it out. What do I look—stupid to you?

We only got to Parris Island 4 days ago and I already have been gigged twice. Once for scratching under my arm pit without getting permission and the other time for saying “No” when some picklehead who says he is a drill sargent asked me “Aren't you a piece of shit Private?” Was I suppose to tell him yes??? He can kiss my ass first. Then they lined us up so they could yell at us some more and Stuke asked if he could go to the crapper but they wouldn't let him. And then they wondered where the fart came from.

I read your changes on the contract a couple of times on the bus and I am only letting you keep 2 of them in. So don't get any funny ideas about forgetting to sign it or saying that a dog pead on it or etc. I will be back for 10 days between boot camp and when they ship us to Pendleton in Calif. We can do alot of things in 10 days such as the Radio City and dinner and ice skating and everything else we can think of—but only if I have your John
Hancock. Otherwise you can forget it. Come to think of it, I even heard about G. Cooper in “Pride of the Yankees” playing by then. Stuke is all ready to go with me in case you can't. (They have a word for this and it is called “blackmale”. If that pisses you off, tell it to the Marines.)

Pvt. Charlie

P.S. TO CONTRACT FROM DEC. 1940

Mine

11. You will remember that we lost over 2000 boys at P. Harbor, some of them not much older than you. If you think that going on a road trip with me is more important than that, you are a chowderhead. And if I sometimes think “I wish I was with Joey at Coney Island instead of here” (which happened to me twice today), then I am one too.

12. You will write to me at least one time a week even if your sore at me or if you do not have anything to say (fat chance). I will do the same thing. You will also keep a glim on the NY Giants and tell me what place they are in and what kind of a knucklehead they got to play 1b and 3b without me and Stuke on the team.

13. You will remember that you are my buddy and even a World War can't change that. When all of this is over we will be back at the Polo Grounds and Saint Louis and saying such things as “They cannot bean Carl Hubbell on account of his halo gets in the way” and etc. just like before.

14. On Oct. 25 me and the Rabby said a Blessing to you and turned you into a man. I am going to hold you to that. Your not allowed to act like a kid anymore except once in a while since your still only 13. The fake letter from
your principle used up your ration through Feb.

15. You will remember that in a few more months I may be on some island with K's and J's and W's in it such as Kwajalein, which we just heard of and thought it was somebody pulling our leg on account of it sounds like what they give you when you have clap. And suppose I am in a fox hole some night and I maybe get a little scared (which they told us happens to everybody no matter how big their balls are)? Who do you think I will tell? Not Hazel, on account of girls like to hear such things as “Dear Toots, The weather is good and so is their food and I just washed my own sox” and etc. even though I may be pulling a hand grenade out of my ass while I am writing it—and not Stuke who will probably be right next to me in the same fox hole and pissing in his pants too. So your the one who is elected. “Dear Joey, It is 4:00 in the A.M. and we can hear them a mile off, but instead of getting the shakes I was just thinking about that night in Chic. when you got soused and danced a jitter bug with D. Walker.” I need to know I can count on you for this.

Yours

16. If I can figure out a way to get smuggled onto a troop transport and I wind up on Guam or someplace else with you, you won't get sore at me.

17. If I get into trouble, you'll come back.
Okay, but this has rules in it:
If your sick, your Mom and Aunt Carrie will take care of you the same way they always do. If you are having girl problems with Rachel or etc., Hazel will handle it. I already have cleared this with her and she is ready.
If you get hurt, I will find a way to be there myself.

18. You can't call Roosevelt any more names until the war is over.

19. If you get wounded or anything, you'll come home for good and tell the Marine Corps to kiss your ass.

I will even let you tell them for me.

P.S. But I don't have to like any of this, Charlie.

Neither do I Bucko.

United States Marine Corps

Semper Fidelis

R
ECRUITING
O
FFICE

3156 E
MPIRE
B
OULEVARD
B
ROOKLYN
, N
EW
Y
ORK

Mr. Joseph Margolis

236 Montgomery Street

Brooklyn, New York

Dear Mr. Margolis:

We are unable to process your enlistment application for the following reasons:

  1. You do not meet our height requirements;
  2. You do not meet our weight requirements;
  3. We do not accept library cards as proof of age—especially when they have been altered.

Check with us again in five years, son.

Very truly yours,
Capt. Hank Brunner
United States Marine Corps

Dear Charlie,

Craig is gone. People kept throwing bricks through their window and painting “Dirty Japs” on the fruit store, and then some kids from Crown Heights who we don't even know ganged up on him and broke his nose and his collarbone. So they went to California to live with his uncle. Five things I hate more than anything else in the world:

Hirohito
Brooklyn
Pearl Harbor
Hitler
Emily Brontë

And by the way, you're a pretty chintzy sport too. You and your damned contracts. I checked the Business and Professions Code and it says “No written agreement shall be considered valid or binding if either party has been forced to affix a signature under duress.” “Duress” means Gary Cooper and Radio City and etc. So here it is anyway. Signed, sealed and delivered. I'll see you in Court.

Joey

P.S. My Mom says I can go and visit Craig in Santa Monica when I'm 15. That's over a year. Smokes, what if he finds a new best friend by then?

Dear Joey,

Craig will find other regular buddies and that is the way it is suppose to be. But a best friend can only happen one time in his life and your it. So don't worry. You are safe on that score.

Bucko I really need your help with something important. All around the base guys are getting married right and left to everything from school sweeties such as Millie and Poopy and Dolly and Pissy or whoever the Hell, to dance hall girlies they just met yesterday and do not even know their name yet. That is why I have been thinking about Hazel and how she could of been Mrs. Charlie Banks 3d Base by now, but she isn't. I guess it serves me good and damn right. I knew which side my bed was made on and now I have to lie in it. But it is too late to ask her anymore. What if she says yes just because I might get shot at and she thinks that saying no will make me sad while I am ducking? So I need you to help her come up with the idea on her own on account of nobody in the whole world does that better than you do. But watch your step. She is alot smarter than either one of us and she can smell a corn cooking all the way to S. Carolina. Think of it like a mission. And do not take any prisoners.

Today they showed us how to pull a rifle apart and put it back together again, like this is something we are going to get in the habit of doing in the middle of an air raid. They also cut all of our hair off and stuck a flashlight up my ass and made us run most of the way to N. Carolina only so we could turn around and run right back. Then we had
lunch. The tray they gave us had three compartments in it. In the middle was green stuff and on the top left was white stuff and on the top right was brown and yellow stuff. During the usual grabass, Stuke threw up on the tray and nobody could tell which was the food and which was the vomit.

Stuke and Shiloh are teaching me how to talk Marine, which is an important thing to learn on account of some muck-a-muck (who I didn't know was a sargent) telling me “The old man wants a muster” and me saying back “So?” on account of not knowing what the hell he was talking about and getting to wash toilets for 4 days while I figured it out. So far I have learned that an Asshole is anybody in the Air Corps (this is one that I made up myself due to Wendell Bodie, who I will tell you about if he does not wind up being my first kill) and that “Semper Fi Mac” either means “Fuck you, I'm all right” or “Tough shit and handle it yourself” or “Hell no!” or “Glad to see you buddy” or “Hang in there on account of help is coming.” I think it also means “Heil Hitler”, but so far this is just scuttlebutt and has not been confirmed yet.

Now how am I suppose to remember all of these things and aim a gun at the same time?

Charlie

P.S. I just got a box of pointy coconut things in the mail. Are they going to follow me to the S. Pacific too?

P.S.2. Guess who turned up in our outfit? D. Marantz from Springfield and the Chic. Cubs. And he still pisses on the toilet seat.

P.S.3. Shiloh's name is not really Shiloh, it's Garth Puckett and he's from the Shiloh part of Tenesee. We figured we would give him a new moniker so the other guys wouldn't keep calling out such things to him as “Oh Garth. Federal men comin up the hill. Better hide the possum gizzards and git the moonshine out of the still” and etc. He swears he is 17 but he will probably not start shaving until 2 yrs. after you do.

P.S.4. Did you hear what Jello-Head in the W. House just said? “I think it would be best for the country to keep baseball going throughout the war.” Now he tells me.

P.S.5. And who in Hell is Emily Brontë? Some new cutie who is giving Rachel a run for her money? Tell her if she took the damn dots off her e, maybe you would like her better.

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