Robert to Cornelia 12 June 1944

Monday, June 12[1]

Dear Cornelia,

        I'm looking forward to tomorrow with great joy, but I'll bet you can't guess the reason. The laundry has come back & I can start the day with clean sox & underwear. I arrived in Texas with a barracks bag of dirty laundry which I sent out at the first opportunity so the last 11 days have been limping along with a pair of shorts & 3 pairs of sox which I washed out every few nights and a wilted set of suntans[2] with which I could do nothing. The laundry is just one of many situations inadequately referred to as delicate.

        I think I wrote you or momma describing the choice location of my living quarters with the choice view from the front lawn of the civilian workers housing unit, the colonels' home, the Texas landscape, the chapel and the officers club. There's a gala time in the last named tonight there being a dinner dance with Al Donahue, who is supposed to be somebody, and his band playing and thru the lattice fence around the terrace can see glimpses of the tables & people. It's nice seeing women in long fluffy summer formals — reminds me of the spring formals at State[3]. It's still early, the band not having started yet and over the P.A. an uninspired, & I assume reluctant, toastmaster announces a new craps table is opening so don’t crowd around table number 1, and at intervals intimidates someone into buying a bond by the subtle method of mentioning his name: Who's going to buy the first bond? Capt. Blank are you stepping up etc. or: Col. Dany has just bought a hundred dollar bond who's next?

        There's been a quip buzzing thru the barracks all day I thought you might enjoy: In the ground forces a pass is a pass but in the air corps a pass is out of the question.

        By now you must know that I was disillusioned in thinking Hondo in the midst of a desert[4], I don't know whether this country extends very far but I had always thought of San Antonio & the Alamo as cactus country. May be I'll find out this week if lucky enough to have open post.

        Have you started your painting project yet? It sounds big enough to last 3 months. My project is to finish this course. Wednesday we fly our first mission & I'm quite anxious to start flying again. The training seems thorough and intelligently planned so I shouldn't have too much trouble as long as I eager and accurate unless there are unforeseen obstacles. The latest rumor going around is that our course will be 16 instead of 20 weeks finishing the middle of Sept. Instead of Oct. You hear the darnedest things sometimes.

        Write and keep me informed on the state of the farm.

Love

Robert

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[1] Envelope is also missing, but the content indicates that the year is 1944.

[2] This is slang for the summer uniform worn (and paid for) by officers.

[3] Robert was a pre-war undergraduate at Fresno State College, which eventually became California State University, Fresno. It is still called by many “Fresno State” and “State”, especially in casual conversation. Robert was a member of the Zeta Mu fraternity, a local fraternity at Fresno State College. In 1949, they would become initiated as the California Iota chapter of Sigma Alpha Epsilon. Many former members of Zeta Mu took the steps necessary to become ΣΑΕs, but Robert did not. His brothers Ted and Hubert did and became founding fathers of California Iota.

[4] This phrase is slightly confusing. I think he might be saying that he didn't expect the base to be as much of a shithole as it was. Or less.

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Barbara to Robert 1 June 1945

May 31, 1945[1]

Dear Bob[2],

        Just think! It’s nearly summer again. The Dutch iris are all through blooming, but the roses are in all their glory. I have ten nice bushes and two Belle of Portugals struggling up the trellis.

       

A nice neighbor gave us four double poinsettia cuttings which now have buds. They should be six feet tall by Christmas.

        Some of my faculty presented me with some Martha Washington geranium slips which are starting to take hold. Yes, the weeds are doing nicely, too, thank you.

        You must think from this I’m quite a gardener. But, I’m not ‘cause I don’t have enough time or information. It’s fun to watch things grow, though.

        The house, however, takes most of my time as there are meals, cleaning, washing, and ironing plus all the extras one has when moving. I teach, too!

        There are just three more weeks of school now. It’s been the best year yet as L.A. is a grand system to work for[3]. I’ll like having more time for other things, though.

        We were certainly glad to hear of the capitulation of Germany[4], but aside from an assembly, things went on as usual. We’re too near the Pacific for any real celebration yet[5].

        We follow the S.F. Conference daily and are hoping for an effective peace organization[6]. Wish they were organized to take care of Syria and Lebanon[7].

        Where do you think you will go from Italy or are you like Dan, in doubt? Have you seen any Italian opera? Write sooner than I did or have a better excuse than mine.

Sincerely,

Barbara[8]

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[1] Postmarked Inglewood, Calif Jun 1, 1945, 11AM.

[2] Addressed to: Lt. R.B. Richert 02071698, 99^th Bomb. Gp. 346 Sq., A.P.O. 520 c/o P.M., New York City. 99^th Bomb. Gp. 346 Sq is marked out in black crayon and a “TRFD TO, 301 BOMB GP” is stamped in black on the envelope.

[3] It would be interesting to see if the sentiment is the same from the current faculty.

[4] VE Day was May 8, 1945. The Soviets celebrated on May 9.

[5] Some of the fiercest fighting in the PTO occurred during 1945 and one can imagine the traffic of returning wounded, death notices, and outgoing troops would have made for a somber West Coast. For them, there clearly was still a war going on.

[6] Interesting to see the peace element of the UN creation mentioned so prominently. Today, the UN is so often mentioned in terms of administration, reports, rankings, etc. that it is easy for forget that it’s primary purpose was to promote peace to a world that just suffered two major conflicts.

[7] The Middle East problems are framed in a centuries-long paradigm.  Reading, in a 70 year old letter, someone’s desire for a solution we seek today, one must question if that solution is really possible.

[8] Return address: 1035 Fifth Ave., Los Angeles, Calif. I do not know at this time the relationship of Barbara to Robert.

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Robert to Lydia 27 April 1945

Friday, April 27[1]

Dear Lyd[2],

        The news of the Fall of Verona certainly rang well in my ears. I’m become acutely aware of the strategic importance of most major north Italian, Austrian & Bavarian cities, and as you must know Verona was the southern terminal of the Brenner pass which means Italy is as good as cut off from Germany. After the fall of Bologna the Fifth army really made beautiful progress. I think I can tell you now that in a nine day stretch, I flew seven times there when the 15th[3] was acting as a tactical air force in support of our ground troops. They were some of my most interesting flights.

 On a recent flight our pilot got a nasty facial injury which could so easily have been fatal with an inch or so difference. As it is it wasn't overly serious but very painful.

We landed at it emergency field in Yugoslavia and our one night there was quite an experience. American soldiers are still a novelty of coarse American M.P.’s[4] were nonexistent. A few of us went into town & it was quite an experience. I had always thought of the Yugoslavians were like the Italians only more so, darker & even more foreign. The people were largely fair & blue-eyed the houses more like American because they were newer & set in yards, & although the city was bombed a lot the people seemed less dirty & sullen than the Italians.

 As we were wondering around rather abstractly, a real old cadger called out to us in something resembling American & it had turned out that some 20 years ago he had been in the States. Being Amerikanskis we were something of a novelty & a crowd was soon gathered around us, mostly partisan soldiers.

 At first glance they look like limeys because their uniforms were the same as a British, the British I guess evidently supplying them that but they all had a red star of their (sic) caps[5]. They were quite impressed by our Colt 45 pistols, which really is quite a weapon, and we were quite impressed by the heterogeneous collection of pistols they had but more impressed by the hand grenades tucked in their belts. No one spoke English & none of us spoke Yugo but I soon found out that several spoke German, & I was soon surprised how adept I was at making myself understood in German[6]. I could talk care of all the important gestures we had and could indulge in little pleasantries & intricacies of conversation.

 Two of them offered to guide us around a bit & were going to take us to a dance but when we got to the building, although the crowd had gathered & the musicians were there it was called off because there was no electricity.

 Instead they took us to a little inn or wine cellar that seemed to be a gathering place for the men in their off hours. The wine was very black & week but they all seem quite gay and singing all their own songs. Then they wanted us to sing our national song, I guess they meant our typically American song and you'll be surprised to know it was the beer barrel polka they had in mind so we sang and they joined in on the tahrahdeedahaye’s. Although our G.I.’s are much better paid, fed & clothed than them they had wonderful spirit & you couldn't help feeling they knew what they were fighting for & for them it is something real & close. They made a good impression on me but I'd be like the correspondents who know Russia after one night in Moscow if I should make conclusions on one night.

We hated to leave as early as we did but we had to get back to the airstrip on the road in a very foreign country where transportation was uncertain[7].

There I’ve written so much I’ve hardly any space left you thank you for the latest box that arrived – the Tshirts & stationary.

Love,

Bob[8]

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[1] Postmarked 28 April 1945

[2] Addressed to: Mrs. Walter Smith, 1856 Vista del Mar, Hollywood 28 Calif.

[3] 15^th Air Force

[4] Military Police. There was often antagonism between regular servicemen and the MPs as the latter were often seen as preventing the former from having off-duty fun.

[5] Most likely Communists from Tito’s partisans.

[6] Robert’s father was a native German speaker. Much of the family correspondence is written in German until WWI.

[7] Riding back to the airbase was probably an interesting story, too.

[8] Return Address: Lt. R.B. Richert 02071698, 99 B.G. 346 BS., APO 520 c/o P.M., N.Y.C.

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Robert to Lydia 22 April 1945

Sunday, April 22

Dear Lydia[1],

            Was I pleased when I came down from yesterday's mission & saw my promotion (along with a half dozen others) on the Squadron Bulletin Board[2]. I can't say I was surprised because the first is given almost as a matter of course over here after a certain number of sorties[3] & I'd passed the crucial mark. Both my pilots & mine[4] came through together so I only outrank my co-pilot & bombardier.

Bob[5]

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[1] Addressed to Mrs. Walter Smith, 1856 Vista Del Mar, Hollywood 28, Calif.

[2] Capitalization is probably a result of army indoctrination stressing even mundane things as having a VERY important purpose in the military.  Robert had a dry sense of humor and it is also possible he was making fun of the army protocol.

[3] Mostly synonymous with mission, but “sortie” is a more specific singular action and couple be a subset of “mission.” He flew several sorties in the mission to protect the surrounded infantry position.

[4] Usually one pilot per crew, but the reference to co-pilot suggests that they might have been training the officer as a pilot or some special squadron situation.

[5] Return address: L.T.  R.B. Richert, 02091698, 99 B.G. 346 B. S., Apo 520 c/o P.M. N.Y.C.

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Robert to Lydia 20 April 1944

 Thursday, April 20.

Dear Lydia[1],

        I can't help feeling I'm wasting time staying here. The program[2] we have is little more than the bare minimum to bide the time with some semblance of activity & a minimum of free leisure. In the morning there is an hour of drill and an hour of P. T., but so put in the morning schedule that there isn't quite an hour of free time between, so hardly enough to get started on a project like writing a letter or starting a card game. In the afternoon we have 3 classes which are an absolute waste of time, the instructor knowing it is as well as we do so it denigrates into little more than a bull session. Evenings are free. Occasionally there are details— tomorrow I have M.M. commonly known as K.P[3].

        It's hard to have a decent weekend because Santa Ana still has its Sunday Retreat Parade for civilian morale, which necessitates return to the base by 3 Sunday afternoon. In spite of this I’ve managed to see & do quite a few things on my 3 weekends in to L.A. Saw the plays Arsenic & Old Lace & Kiss & Tell; heard a symphony concert & did several miscellaneous and sundry things like the Cadet Dance at the Ambassador[4]. This weekend mama is coming down and I gathered tickets for the play "Life with Father (sic) which I think she will enjoy. Last weekend I didn't know whether to get tickets for Arsenic & Old Lace instead to take her to, but think I’ve made the best choice & so old saw Old Lace with a girl from Fresno I know in LA. I don't think I’ll come into L.A. again, plus if I am here for many more weekends will go to Balboa or Long Beach, because the weather will probably be warmer then & besides a longer weekend is possible because there's less time wasted in traffic. If, when you leave Las Vegas, you should plan to come via L.A. to Fresno over a Saturday let me know and maybe we could take in some entertainment that takes some advance reservation. Since I left Fresno for Carlsbad the second-time, I've managed to wallow through the first ponderous tome of Marcel Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past & have started on the second, so you see that with the 2 train trips and off-duty moments here, I’ve had quite some considerable free hours but still greater patience to have persevered so far in such a meaningless project[5].

        Have you heard any more about Margaret's[6] vacation? I haven't heard from her since I went home on leave, so if I have time tonight I should write & find out if there's a chance of her coming this way while I'm still here.

        Easter was rather uneventful. Stayed at Aunt Martha's[7]. John Charles Thomas sang at the base Sunday evening.

Bob[8]

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[1] Addressed to: Mrs. Lydia Smith, Box 881, Henderson, Nevada

[2] The letter is written on La Caverna Hotel (now demolished) letter head. Robert was in air cadet training in Santa Ana at this time, so this “program” is probably a temporary class held in Carlsbad, New Mexico.

[3] Kitchen Patrol

[4] This is most certainly the famous Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, but there it was a chain and had one in Santa Barbara.

[5] In his later years, Robert often stressed the “meaningless” parts of his service over the Hollywood heroics.

[6] His sister.

[7] On mother’s side.

[8] Return address: A/C Robert B. Richert, 19111319, Sq. 180, S.AAAB., Santa Ana, Calif.

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Cornelia to Robert 18 April 1945

 April 18

Dear Robert[1] –

I carry my stationary along on the off chance that I will have a stray moment that I can make use it, and here it is. Judging the poetry contest at Ten— (held in the M.E. church which is now decorated as though for a wedding or Easter) Very inadvertently I was early. I missed the time by 30 minutes which means I have 20 minutes to spare. This poetry festival is really a lovely thing. Every student in school has a chance to participate— at the semifinals three weeks ago some 70 kids read— and they differently weren't the sissies either. The finals are held in some churches – the choir is in their blue rubes— The contestants also robed and to organ music, the tech rough necks come softly in by the choice of poems is rather good, too, although they went rather strongly for "The Valley God Forgot" and “Patterns" last time.

I do hope some of your packages have came through by now. They were sent off rather sporadically so that you’ll have Christmas for one week and fast days for month, I'm afraid. The books you were asking about are Bacon’s Essays-evidently the only one in town, purchased by Elizabeth because in your proceeding with letter Spring evidently invoked thoughts of Bacon. My contribution is Wolcott’s (sic) “While Rome burns" which if you’ve read it you probably won't mind taking on again.

  

        Your requests for something to help the bread slide down are also underway[2]. Though the jam isn't included. I am a little cadgy as to its traveling graces.

          I remembered hearing over the radio about the block of bombers from Italy that had traveled up to Berlin (Palm or Easter Sunday wasn't it?) and we wondered if you were along with them. From reports of today you'll probably be able to walk triumphantly along Unter den Linden any time you choose to go there. The end seems so near but seems so long in getting here.

After a week the shock of Roosevelt's death has worn off a bit. I objected violently to his election the last two or three times but a positive and colorful figure has passed away[3]. Incidentally Truman seems to be living up to the buildup given him by the radio and press.

Julius was home last week and was a big help to mama in getting the spring cleanup on the way. I think you use a little unhappy about his C.O[4]. status right now but I doubt if he'll do anything.

After a long cold winter or spring has at my least come with a bang-we've been sweltering for the last week but what a joy to be able to thaw out. The flowers have burst out in a riot of colors and the other day I 18 greenish little strawberries for breakfast-with high hopes of eventually getting more.

I'm going to S.F. tomorrow to a speech meeting – a 28 hour Jaunt again but I feel as though I am going on a big toot. Not a hotel room in S.F. available[5] but I'm going to sleep on a cot in the lounge of the women's faculty club.

Good luck and a good time.

Love Cornelia[6]

P.S. I'll take care of the Mother's Day present

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[1] Envelope is addressed to: Lt Robert B Richert 02071698, 99^th Bm Gp. 346 Bm Sq.,APO 520c/o P.M. New York City.

[2] Paul Richert, Robert’s brother, loved grape jelly and sour dough bread from the Basque bakery. After Paul’s passing, many jars of jam were found stored in the kitchen.

[3] Even Roosevelt’s detractors were shocked at his passing. Losing a sitting president is never an easy thing, politically or emotionally, for a country.

[4] Julius was a consciousness objector during the war and worked in the Pacific Northwest. The cause for his unhappiness mention in this letter is unknown at this time.

[5] The housing shortage in urban areas was acute during the war. San Francisco, not only being a major metropolitan area, was a major port and production area and would have been especially impacted.

[6] Return address: Mrs. WE Downing, RT 1, Box 529, Clovis, Calif

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BBR to Robert 17 April 1944

 April 17, 44

Dear Robert[1] –

          Just got your letter I will try and come to L.A. but you did not give the date[2]. You said next week and it is the 20 or 29. I tag it's the 22— so I will try and get reservation for Friday at 10 PM. Just let me know at once, I have quite a full week something on every day.

          Yesterday was out to Hubert for dinner Cornelia and Dr[3]. were there too. I baked the ham being they have no oven. I also helped to plant petunias and it was is windy as it were.

          Let me know soon. With Love Mother[4].

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[1] Addressed to: A/C Robert B. Richert, 19111819, SQ. 180 S.AAAB., Santa Ana  Calif

[2] This fits the timing of his graduation from Air Cadet school. Upon graduation, they would be assigned a specialty school.

[3] Dr. Downing, Cornelia’s husband. In much family correspondence, he is referred to as Dr. or “the Dr.”

[4] Return address (handwritten): Barbara Richert, 1130 T St, Fresno California

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