April 6 and 11, 1945: Dad writes two letters home. From all indications, it looks like the day of his deployment overseas is at hand.
On the 6th he gets right down to the business at hand. “Well, this is the letter which you might have been expecting for quite a while, in which I would be saying you won’t be hearing from me for quite a while, but who knows. At the present it looks as if it will be the one for quite a while; at least, it’s the last one that will not be censored. I’m sure you’re thinking of me in your prayers.” He goes on to reference a letter from his mother, “Today I received a letter from mama written in Polish and I’ll try my best to keep it as mama would like to have me do. I just wrote Stanley a letter as well” Related to his deployment, he writes that he has “already sent a small box of clothing home and I wish to excuse myself for sending some soiled handkerchiefs and undershirts home.”
Others at McCook are preparing for their deployment as well, and it seems that one last social gathering is underway as Dad details, “I’m writing this letter at the Service Club on Friday while there’s a dance going on in the large room next to this one. You see some girls and girlfriends with their babies, seeing their loved ones, perhaps, for the last time which will have to last them for a long time.”
Before wrapping up he mentions that he is sending home a few letters from other friends that he has already answered. He signs off on the 6th writing, “That’s about all from here. Best of luck and God bless you.”
On the 11th he pens another short letter while in transit. In the letter there is no indication where he is writing from other than the clue that it is warmer than in McCook. He writes, “Had a little trip and feel none the worse for it. I’ll probably write a couple more times yet before my correspondence will drop for a while, at least I’ll try to write as best I can. Sometimes I get into a streak of letter writing and write a lot. …The mess here is swell; maybe we work harder, or else the climate agrees with me. I sure hate to make a hog out of myself like I did at home, because I’ll start growing sideways if I don’t watch out.”
He asks about his godchild, “How is Terenia? By now she should have forgotten me at least a little by finding consolation in…some…doll of hers. By the time Stanley and I get back she should be through her childhood years but we’ll probably have another small ‘tike’ of a relative to contend with who will keep everybody in the house busy.”
Before signing off on the 11th, he provides his family with his new mailing address:
S/SGT Anthony I. Murawski
357th Bomb. Sq.
331st Bomb. Gp.
A.P.O. #18615 c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
Next up… a blessing from mama.