3. JOURNAL A-Z List

The Betty H. Carter Women Veterans Historical Project

Letter from Marcelle Fisher to a Miss Herzog, 4 February 1943

Search the Collection


Object ID: WV0253.4.009

Description: Fischer begins the letter with a short, overly formal joke note. She then describes the busy schedule of a WAAC and jokes about the rumor that WAACs serve only to find a husband. Much of the letter is sarcastic commentary about her social life, poking fun at the assumption that WAACs are heavy drinkers and boy crazy. She includes two riddles.

Creator: Marcelle K. Fischer

Biographical Info: Marcelle K. Fischer served in the WAC from 1942-1945.

Collection: Marcelle Fischer Papers

Rights: It is responsibility of the user to follow the copyright law of the United States (Title 17, U.S. Code). Materials are not to be reproduced in published works without written consent, and any use should credit Jackson Library, The University of North Carolina at Greensboro.

Full Text: My dear Miss Herzog:

Your communication of December 11, 1942 received. Regretful to say, I did not have time to answer above subject matter. The W.A.A.C. is an organization created to relieve men for actual combat duty. This may suggest to you that we are very busy and haven't the time for personal pleasure. In the near future, after we learn the army routine, I will no doubt have the requested ten (10) minutes required to write a not so abrupt and more sociable letter. Until that date, I regretfully say - goodbye now.

Very sincerely yours, Margaret

*Now that dear girl is how I would answer a letter now that I am a full pledged WAAC. But being that you are so interested in the uniformed girls, I will start again and this time by myself.

Hello Hope-less:

Gee it was swell to hear from you. How are you and every little thing including my two-timing boy friends.

As for myself, I really can't say much. Things are so cut and dried in the WAAC's one just can't have any fun. From morning 'till night it's always - do this and do that, so now if some one doesn't tell me what to do, I am lost.

All kidding aside, the WAAC-ing stuff is really a lot of fun. The girls range from the old sea-hags to young battle axes who have all joined the army to hook some poor unsuspecting, crosseyed [sic], buck-toothed, chubby, cross-kneed soldier.

Of course, you know I joined this women's army just for the thrill of it all. New adventures, new faces, new things, gosh, this can go on forever, and not with the idea of having a good time will all the petticoat crazy Wolves hanging around all army camps.

I am now with the 35th Post Headquarters Company WAAC which was assigned to the Sixth Service Command, Services of Supplies, Chicago, Illinois, who in turn attached us to the 1605th Station Complement, Post Headquarters, stationed in Fort Custer, Michigan.

There are 149 Auxiliaries to our company with three officers to look after our well being. They must think we are a bunch of high school girls living away from home they way they treat us.

Can you ever imagine little me getting up before six in the morning? Well, I'll have you know that's exactly when we get up. It's no fun having to crawl out of a nice comfortable warm bed and hit the dawn for roll call. Why it's so dark even the chickens are still roosting. And we do all this just to spend an hour to camouflage ourselves before going to breakfast and then to work.

We work from eight in the morning 'till five in the evening. After that we can do as we please - if it's not against the rules and is covered by the Articles of War, Army Regulations, Service Command Regulations and by the Post Regulations. In other words, one can't do much without breaking a regulation or two.

Bed check is eleven so one has to be in bed by then, if not, one will have a little extra duty on her hands in the form of K.P., and a few other things of the like. I have been and am a good girl so what am I worrying about. (You should see all the gray hairs I am getting.)

Fort Custer is a nice place. It's not large, but then, it's not small. It's just an average army camp with lots of soldiers to go with it. We have a Service Club, but a lot of good it does. We can't dance there when the weekly dances are in full swing. That's because the local gals are all afraid we might take their boy friends away. The cats.

There is also a bowling alley on the Post. This is where most of the fellows take us for a bite to eat before hitting the hay. If we want to be with the boys, the bowling alley and the theatre are about the only places one can go, unless you want to take a walk and freeze your (Censored) off.

Since coming to Fort Custer, I really haven't had much time to myself. After work every day it's always a party here or a dance there or whatever else you can think of that takes a boy and a girl. I don't know how I manage to get to work every morning like I have been doing. Did you know that my capacity for the bottle is now one pint straight or little more mixed. I am no longer the sweet young thing my folks tell their friends. According to my boy friends in the army, I am a gift from heaven, more gorgeous than an angel, and the best of it all is I am beginning to believe them.

Did you know that while training in Fort Des Moines I spent the Christmas in Kansas City? I had a two day pass and from what little I can remember, I must have had a good time. While there, I was honored by being picked the most gorgeous, beautiful and what have you creature by the service men who happened to be in the Canteen at the time. The papers gave me front page stuff with my picture to show that I was all they claimed. Boy am I getting to be the girl or am I getting to be the girl - just ask me. You are, swell. Well, I am the most talked about, looked at, admired WAAC in the service, so there.

So you are now sweet, lovable eighteen. The age all little girls wished to be an all the old hens think they are. The age of innocence when one begins to learn the simple things in life and upon learning regreted [sic]. How I envy you.

We haven't had the chance to see many good pictures to date. Arabian Nights, not much story but restful to the eyes. I slept the whole picture through. Stand By for Action, a Robert Taylor story, without love interest but lots of fun, had many amusing incidents. Hitler's Children and a few others not worth mentioning. I go to sleep anyway so it doesn't make much difference.

And speaking of jokes, we really hear very little and what we do hear, they can't be written and sent through the mail. Besides jokes like that aren't good for you.

What is a double petunia? “Well, a petunia is a flower like a begonia. A begonia is a meat like a sausage. A sausage and battery is a crime. Monkeys crime trees. Trees a crowd. A rooster crowd in the morning and makes a noise. A noise is on your face like your eyes. The eyes is the opposite of nays. A horse nays and has a colt. You get a colt and go to bed and wake up in the morning with double petunia.”

Why is a fire engine red? “Well, a fire engine is a truck. It takes two people to truck. Two people have four feet. A foot is a ruler. Queen Mary was a ruler. Queen Mary was also a boat. Boats sail on the ocean. Fishes live in the ocean. Fishes have fins. The Russians defeated the Finns. The Russians are Red. Fire Engines are always rushin’. That’s why fire engines are red.”

Have you noticed the remarkable change in my grammer [sic], vocabular [sic] and many other things pertaining to proper English? Well, sweet eighteen - that, comes from being a WAAC.

Well young lady, I have work to do so until a later date, excuse me. If you can break away from your dates, drop me a line or two.

Goodbye now,