June 16, 1944
No. 30 continued
The hospital had a new “first” yesterday — the first WAC [Women’s Army Corps] as a patient — in fact the first one any had seen except for those who were lucky enough to get into Naples. And appropriately enough, this one was a bit “wacky” (anxiety state). Bishop was telling us how, in the big cities in these bloomin’ Base Section headquarters, all the officers have WAC secretaries and one has to even ask permission of them to go in and see some 2nd Lt. who thinks he is mighty important. Jeepers, in Africa and Sicily we used to walk into all offices and go right into the Colonel’s or whoever was in charge of the offices and transact business without a lot of going through channels. But these Base Section outfits are too good for that — they get hi-falootin ideas and think they are back home in their own offices with secretaries and all.
The combat troops sure hate the Base Section outfits too. They grab everything, restrict the use of the good places in towns to their own troops, and try to keep the combat boys from having a decent time in the towns when they get a day or so of rest. The combat boys really pulled a good one, however, in one big town. When the Base Section boys moved in not long after it was taken, they found signs reading, “Off Limits to _____ Base Section.” I hear that that base outfit tried some soft-soaping right then and there, and ordered beer sent for all the combat troops in that area. They have a nice little verse around these parts about these base-sections, “Oh, Mother, Mother, take down your service flag, your boy’s in the __BS.”
When I got started on this letter I didn’t intend it to be an essay on base-sections but it just seemed to spill out. Hope that the censor is an “Army” man instead of a “Base Section” guy!
Last night we had our first movie with Polly’s projector, and it was one of the funnieset movies we have seen. It has probably been all over S.F. already, but you should be able to find it in some little flea-house somewhere, and it is worth using up an “A” Gas Ration card going to see. The name “The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek” with Betty Hutton. We are still wondering how it got by the Hay’s Office, what with the poor gal not knowing who her husband was and her having not one baby but —-well, you’ll have to see the picture. I won’t give it away. Loads of love,