Vol. I - No. 9-----April. 22, 1944-----Editor: Roz Richards
Subscription Price:-----A Letter A Drizzle



That comments appearing in parenthesis throughout The Drizzle are the personal observations of The Drizzler. However, many of the nicknames clothed in parenthesis in a number of the letters reproduced in The Drizzle are the brain children of the individual letter writers.


Because here's The Drizzler again, all poised for the kick-off with another big batch of interesting news about your buddies in various parts of the United States and throughout the world. Interesting news and views from such distant lands as New Guinea, the Marshall Islands, England, Wales, Northern Ireland, Italy, Cuba, and Battleships in the Pacific.


So it's all right with all of you lads and lassies. Okay, then, hold onto your hats because here we go: Ensign Edwin Klassy, aboard the U.S.S. Williamson somewhere in the Pacific, recently had a dandy surprise, meeting up with a very good friend of his from Colby, Wis., where "Ed" was Smith-Hughes agricultural instructor in the high school before his induction into the armed services. "It was one of those chances in a million," he writes, "That our ships would put in at the same port at the same time. Keppel is the chap's name, and since he is an engineering officer and also on a destroyer, he has quite a job on his hands. He makes the third person I've met from back home since leaving there. Jim and Helen Knoblauch back in San Diego and now Keppel out here. If such meetings could be arranged a bit more often, it sure would be nice. If these censors would let up a little, one could write some very interesting letters, but as it is, about all we can write is of a very general nature." . . Writing from Somewhere in Scotland, Capt. P. Emil Voegeli, former fancy-feed legal counselor for the far-flung Haddinger-Dick transportation Trust, says: "I have one criticism of your paper that I am sure some of the other fellows will agree with. It is the title, Roz. "Drizzle" is a word many of us have really learned to dislike. I would like to suggest "Sunshine," or, if you must get people wet, something like "Snow Drift." (Ah, but Paul, isn't it nice to expect to be drenched by another drizzle and then wind up in a burst of sunshine or land in a snow drift, instead?) . . Sgt. Melvin Marty, who is with Co. A of the 8th Infantry, Somewhere in England, reports that the farmers over there already have their crops in-that they don't waste any land and farm every bit of it. The roads are good in England, but even the main roads are narrow. Melvin says that he was surprised to learn that Leonard Felts is also stationed in England and he doubts if he'll get to see his brother, Staff Sgt. Wilbert Marty, because his outfit doesn't get any time off. . . From far-away New Guinea comes a few lines from Lt. O. S. Blum, who had just received another issue of the Drizzle which caused him to reflect that so many of the boys who are doing such a good job in this war were just youngsters in their teens when I left Monticello. Believe I'm about due to move up where there will be some action, I still haven't seen any. By the way, I wonder where Prof. W. J. Urben is now?" (You're referring to "Walt, the Wildcat," of course, aren't you, Ott? He's still state director of the division of mental hygiene. For the first time in a month, Walt was in the office the other day on one of his famous in-and-out-of-the-door-in-a-minute visits. He had been out to the farm, presumably to give the cows and chickens a peppery little pep talk on production. This is going way astray of the subject, Ott, but you must remember "Beebo," that professor's little son who amused you no end with his antics one fall when we were in our early years at the university. He couldn't have been over three or four years old then. It is nearly a year ago that I noticed in the Madison newspapers that "Beebo," then in the army had given his life for our country-killed in action, I believe, in the North African campaign. I meant to send you the clipping at the time, but it slipped my mind. Yes, little "Beebo" died-so that his country might live. . . After 38 months in the service, Sgt. Perry Janes is back in Monticello, having received a medical discharge from the army. Recently Perry had again been receiving treatment for skin infection at Ashburn General Hospital, McKinney, Texas, where, it is safe to assume, Lt. "Bo" Woelffer still reigns supreme as the idol of the army nurses' corps. Nineteen months of Perry's service were spent in the Southwest Pacific mostly in New Zealand and the Fiji Islands. He was with a Field Artillery Battalion.


From Staff Sergeant Wilbert Marty, who is tail gunner on a Flying Fortress and now has many missions over Europe to his credit: "Dear Roz: Whom should I meet on the field the other day but old "Fizzletop"-Leon Babler. He has been transferred to my base. A couple of nights later we got together and had a good old gab-fest. Everything from incidents on missions to the basketball team of 1938-39. Gee, it sure was swell. Same old Leon-hasn't changed a bit. The old routine hasn't changed, either. All I can say is read the newspapers and note where the (deleted by censor, but it looks like "Forts" to the Drizzler) are going. Got a clipping from home stating that my closest friend at Whitewater State Teachers college is a German prisoner of war. He was a pilot of a Fort-only 19 years old. Feels good to know he is safe. Say, Roz, I wish you could meet our ground crew. Boy, are they a swell bunch of guys. They'll go all out for you. Every once in a while you read an article about ground crews, but it's just a drop in the bucket compared to the space and recognition they should get. I sure envy these fighter pilots over here. Boy, some of those fellows are really "Hot Rocks." Every now and then I get a chance to talk to one of them. It's really a pleasure to listen to those guys. They have told me, too, that they respect us for what we go through. You've probably read about these pilots over here-Mahurin, Johnson, and Brown-to name a few. Spring is rolling around and we have been shagging flies at every spare moment. Last Sunday, the E. M.s of our barracks played the officers of our crews in softball. We won, 14-13, in the last of the seventh. The medic captain from our squad played with the officers. What a slugger! All for now. Sincerely, Wilbert." (But, Wilbert, you neglected to say what Marty, the Mighty Mauler, did at the plate? Seems to me it must have been you who broke up the game in the last of the seventh with a "Babe Ruthless" drive over the center field fence. By the way, Sarge, how d'you suppose your old side-kick, Staff Sgt. "Cec" Wirth is faring with those dusky damsels of the Southwest Pacific? How 'bout it, Cec? Or are you yearning for a little social jaunt up into Mount Vernon or over around Blanchardville? What's that? You bet I've got a good memory.)


An extremely interesting letter from Lt. John Steinmann, Fort Belvoir, Va., who tells of his various duties on the faculty of the engineering school and also gives much fascinating historical data about the Fort and the surrounding area. "Being as close to Washington as we are (16 miles) ," says John, "Our program is constantly subjected to diversion in the way of inspections by officers of high rank, visits by celebrities-several movie stars have been through our classrooms-and visits by foreign officers who are sent here to study American methods. Yesterday 16 Brazilian officers were here. In the past few months, officers from Brazil, Bolivia, Argentina, Holland, Mexico, and England have all been conducted through our courses on instruction inspection tours. According to The Messenger, Paul Voegeli and Leon Babler are up for congratulations-Paul on his promotion to captain and Leon on his Air Medal and Oak Leaf Cluster. Wilbert Marty is also to be congratulated on his promotion to Staff Sergeant. Both he and Leon have probably completed their 25th missions by now-which alone makes them worthy of the best this country has to offer. Include my good word to them along with yours in the next Drizzle, Roz. That goes for all the boys from home with whom I've lost contact. That town is really going to be some place when we all get back. It's really going to look good to us." (Thanks, John, for your generous praise of the Drizzle. It's swell to know you think it's so swell!) . . From Pfc. Emil Weigert, Co. D, 1st Bn., 8th Inf., Somewhere in England: "Hi, Roz: See by the Drizzle a lot of us are winding up over here, but haven't met any of the boys yet. I sure would like to meet one of the old-timers-like "Bob" Blumer-who could give me a few tips. (Imagine Bob's the guy that could do it, Emil.) Feeling swell. Plenty to eat and army routine gives us plenty of exercise. In our spare time we try to build up better relations with our English neighbors-if you get what I mean. But I sure would like a good bottle of Budweiser for a change. Happy Easter. Emil (Hope you get that Budweiser, Emil, and I'm wondering if you ever got that "shot" of Kessler's you were thirsting for in the last Drizzle. Here's a tip to Emil's superior officer: Make sure that Emil gets a few snorts of Kessler's and a couple bottles of Budweiser right at invasion time and the war'll be as good as over because then Emil'll be a Battling Bearcat Bound for Berlin! . . Sgt. Carl J. (Jake the Joker) Dick, with the 348th Station Hospital near Cardiff, Wales, writes that during the past winter they have had frost only a few times, and that because of the golf stream, the temperature changes very little. Says C. J. : "It remains light until after 8 o'clock now. I am told that in summer darkness does not come 'til 10:30 or 11 o'clock. Last Saturday afternoon four of us from the office walked to a village nearby (name scissored by censor.) This village is situated in a valley, a small river passes through, and an old canal that hasn't been in use for a long time, is still in evidence. On the crest of a high hill overlooking the town is-that's right-a beautiful little castle. The whole thing presents a story-book appearance. While not a real large one, this castle is still quite a building. The towers are about 100 feet high and the entire structure covers more ground than the school house. From a native we learned that Oliver Cromwell laid siege to this castle and one of his cannons placed on a spot near the canal blew part of the largest tower apart. This was rebuilt and now the castle is in a perfect state of repair. The original castle dates back to the days of the Romans and a five-mile escape tunnel still remains."


To all you lads from the old home town who are so widely scattered throughout the universe, this tidbit of society news will undoubtedly come to you as a thunderbolt out of the blue. Sir Walter Haddinger, famous locally for his humor, sportsmanship, snappy haberdashery, and high standing among the captains of capitalism, has toppled from his lofty perch atop the pedestal of bachelorhood with a resounding thud. This is not mere fluff, boys. It's the McCoy, straight from the trusty typewriter of that famed diagnostician of masculine heart afflictions, Lt. Wallie Barlow, recently transferred back to the Naval Air training Station at Glenview, Ill., from Hutchinson, Kansas, where he had been situated for several months. Wallie got a glimpse of this gorgeous bundle of feminine pulchritude when he and Walt were playing a friendly little game of pool in Sophie Wyss's Sports Emporium on a recent week-end. The game was moving along beautifully with Walter uncorking one sensational shot after another. At this point, however-says Wallie-in strolls little (?) Eleanor, and right at that very moment, Walt went completely to pieces. In fact, he couldn't have hit his cue ball with a tennis racket. And surely there is no surer sign of love-real, solid, substantial, undiluted love-than that. For more inside information on this rapidly blossoming romance, contact the naval lieutenant at Glenview. I'm sure he'll give it to you with plenty of enlightening embellishments thrown in for good measure. . . Incidentally, Wally is now at work trying to chase away the secrecy which shrouds the latest love affair of Lt. R. W. (Bo) Woelffer, Jr., a romance which is still wrapped in much mystery because "Junior" continues to huddle behind a wall of silence (or nurses) in the Ashburn General Hospital down at McKinney, Texas, refusing to even as much as recognize the repeated inquiries concerning the identity of his lucky little lump of loveliness which The Drizzler has shot in his direction. It may take Wallie some time to get to the bottom of this affair, but be patient, boys, because I'm sure he'll get there eventually. . . Latest press dispatches from New Haven, Conn., state that although it is now over three weeks since Erwin (King) Kissling has been gone from the Yale campus, the thick, tear-drenched pall of gloom which settled over Yale's sorority row immediately after The King's departure, has barely commenced to lift. . . Paging Art (Slug) Babler, the United States Coast Guardsman at Atlantic City, N. J. Make sure that you're set, Art, because I shall expect you to give me the correct answer to this $64 question. Here it is: If C. J. Dick, Monticello's Prince of Wales, should ever ascend the royal throne, do you think that he, too-like former King Eddie-would renounce it for his lady love??? (Please don't glower at me like that, C. J. I really didn't mean it-just sorta slipped out.) Remember, Art, this is a $64 question. If you win, please collect the money from Whitey Hill. You know-he's always so loose with his money, anyway. . . have any of you fellows heard of the nice little "friendship" Staff Sgt. Wilbert Marty, the ol' tail-gunner himself, has struck up with an English gal? And, boys, is she ever a peach! How do I know? Well, her name is Margaret Peach!


Walter Zentner, MM 2/c, who is aboard a destroyer in the Pacific, has high praise for his ship and also for the chow they get on board. It's almost like home, Walt says, except that when you go for a walk you can walk as long as you like but not as far as you like-otherwise you might find yourself swimming. Walt's worst experience since he's been in the navy was getting some wisdom teeth pulled. . . "Bud" Wirth, former interne in the H. L. Karlen & Sons auto repair hospital and now also in the navy, is apparently in the Hawaiian Islands-or was the last time he was heard from-because he speaks of trying to locate Herman Baebler, another Monticello boy, who is employed in the naval yards at Pearl Harbor. . . Joe Gmur, the erstwhile local whisker king-hopes a "y" isn't substituted for the "r" in the final copy-writes from the Marine Corps Air Depot at San Diego, says he appreciates the Drizzle very much. "There isn't much to say about this place," states Joe, "Because all I do is barber at the P. X. shop. I'll be there until I join an active squadron. Out of 27 barbers there are 14 left and they'll take six more in a few days. Looks like they'll keep us older fellows 'til last." . . From far out in the Southwest Pacific, Eddie Loeffel of the United States Marines, pens these lines: "Hi Roz: It sure was a surprise to get The Drizzle way out here. It sure is wonderful to read about friends all over the world. I never knew where half the fellows were. It sure is great to get The Drizzle. Yes, I was at the Marshall Islands, but we only stayed there for three days. Then we went back aboard ship and came to this rest camp. I can't tell you where it's situated or its name. All it does is rain. So we have been resting because they can't drill us in the mud. When we hit the Marshall's I was with an explosives squad. Now I am getting a B. A. R. rifle. So my work has changed. Our rest camp is nice. I weigh about 210. Not bad. All I do is eat and sleep. Soon time for taps again. Thanks a lot for The Drizzle way out here. A friend, Eddie." . . and here the Drizzler is way down to here and it's just dawned on me that I haven't thanked those of you who have included congratulations in your letters over the arrival of the new daughter, Ronda Kay, born March 11. She's a little dandy. Ronda Kay weighed 7 pounds, 15 ½ ounces at birth and I'm still just a little bit provoked at the young lady for not having taken a deep breath right at the right time and made it an even 8 pounds. We're having a regular circus at our house now, watching big sister, Rosanda Rae, who was four years old April Fool's day, take charge of things. . . Pvt. Leonard D. Felts, Band Det., 360th Eng. Regt., breaks into the Drizzle for the first time with an acknowledgment of his first copy. Says Len: "It brought back many memories to me. I'll have to be looking around for some of the old gang here in England. I get around some over here playing in the band. Well, Roz, I am not much of a letter writer so will close for this time. Was very pleased to receive The Drizzle. Will be waiting for the next issue to come drizzling down my way." . . And here we have a letter from Len's "little" brother, Leo, PhM2c, USNR, USMC, base in Cuba: " A few lines to thank you for the March Drizzle. I was certainly looking forward to it and each and every word was truly enjoyed. I have been doing quite a bit of swimming and golfing during my spare time. We get plenty of liberty, but I'm afraid it would cause quite a bit of suffering for most of those Monticello Romeo's unless they are up on their Spanish and have had plenty of experience with the company of a chaperone. (What a bea-oooti-ful spot for Whitey Hill! Come to think about it, though, he'd get by somehow.) Saw Bob Hope and his radio performers last Sunday. The encores really had Francis Langford holding the microphone. Wonder why? Have to go on patrol in a few minutes so I had better cut it. My regards to all! Adios, Leo." . . Roger Klassy, with the Navy V-12 Unit at St. Mary's College, Winona, Minn., says he's not as lucky as King Kissling was because that school is not co-ed. "Our life isn't too bad, but the study hours seem to be too short for the amount of studying to be done. We get up at six and hit the sack at ten except on week-ends when taps are at eleven. Good luck to the Drizzler and his Drizzle." . . Royal Voegeli, enrolled in a similar naval course at Gustavus Adolphus College, St. Peter, Minn., reports that he finds school much the same as Roger-quite a bit harder than the U. W. with more subjects and less time to study. Most of the free periods during the day are devoted to drill and calisthenics. . . Camp Pickett, Va., doesn't appeal very much to Erwin (King) Kissling, Co. (indecipherable) , 309th Infantry, but little wonder after several months as the toast of the co-eds at Yale University. "This division," says Boob, "Just came off of the Tennessee maneuvers and they beat the dickens out of the 106th. Ask Eddie about that! Oh, yes, April 10th is the start of our training and we get five months of it! Must close. Be good and I'll try." . . Lt. Betty Jane Woelffer is now stationed at Ft. Jackson, S. C. Enroute there, she and other nurses had a 4 ½ -hour stop-over in New Orleans and visited the French quarter. "Everything was so interesting," says Betty, "that the time went too fast. Some sailors even gave us a ride in a landing barge-it sure was fun." We're mighty sorry to hear that Betty has been hospitalized for more than the past week due to severe headaches and here's hoping, B. J., that you'll soon be feeling fit as a fiddle again. . . Norma (Prexy) Freitag, until recently in the cardiology department at the Wisconsin General hospital and now employed in a similar position on a vast DuPont project near Hanford, Wash., asked to be remembered with a Drizzle each month. "Now that I am out here and can see what I am doing," writes Norma, "I feel as eligible as the boys in Texas, Africa, and other places. I might add I also feel like I am living on the desert in North Africa instead of the state of Washington." We're very happy to place your name on our list, Norma, and we hope you enjoy every issue of The Drizzle. . . Pvt. Morgan Phillips, with a Tank Destroyer Battalion at Camp Maxey, Texas, may be on his way across by this time. Morgan sent the Drizzler the insignia of his outfit, suggested that the rest of the boys do likewise with the thought that they be sewed onto something or fixed up in some way. Sounds like a fine idea. What do the rest of you fellows think of it? . . Pvt. Robert (Zoom) Blumer, whom the gals of Northern Ireland are constantly serenading with that famous old ballad, "My Wild Irish Rose," sends The Drizzler these pointed observations: "Well, I 'spose the force there at the post office, including yourself, will go "Dewey" this fall. How's Jimmy Lobbs? Wish I had one of his Baby Beef hamburgers and a good cup of coffee. How's Yolanda? Still able to boil water without burning it? How's "the Bake" these days? I suppose Leon, the Chevrolet Kid, from 68th and Cottage Grove, is right on the ball these days? Wish I could drop in on Herr Kubly at the Bucket of Blood. Imagine he still pitches one every now and then, along with Sonny Boy, the type-setter. Imagine H. A. Walters will soon be putting the swimming pool in trim for the local flying fish. Good thing I made use of it while I was there." . . Sgt. Warren Murphy, Camp Barkeley, Texas, former famous understudy of the equally famous J. Pierpont Lobbs, the local "Ketchup King" predicts that now that Whitey Hill's a lieutenant those dolls just never will leave him alone. "Murph" is now on a 17-day bivouac and he's not too keen about it. Says that when he got the last Drizzle, "I just flopped on my bed and devoured every bit of it." . . Tommy Brusveen, stationed in England, hopes to meet a few of the numerous Monticello boys also there. Tommy and a buddy enjoy many of the comforts of home, staying in the living room of a nice residence equipped with gas heater, R. C. A. radio and record player, 3 easy chairs, davenport which they use for a bed, piano, table, and writing desk. . . Lt. Leon Babler, navigator on a flying Fort based in England, writes briefly that nothing unusual has happened since his last letter, that the food is good there-even got fresh eggs and ice cream occasionally. Also says "We have a very nice club that sports an old American type bar, record players, radios, and many other types of entertainment." . . Corp. Paulus Roth, Camp Edwards, Mass., has been transferred to the Enlisted Cadre Pool where he works in the personnel office. His future assignment is uncertain. May be sent out on cadre as a fire control man or as an administrative personnel non-com. Recently cracked two ribs on the obstacle course, but is feeling 100% now. Paulus asks to be remembered to all Drizzle readers.


Lt. Howie Steinmann, USMC, Camp Pendleton, Calif., tells of the grand trip he and Gladys had motoring from Washington, D. C., to the west coast. Then Howie says: "Roz, you can tell Betty Woelffer for me that she can have all of Yuma, Ariz. (How about it, Betty, you gonna take it?) We passed thru Yuma and we were anchored there for 6 hours trying to get a flat tire fixed. What a town to be held up in by a tire. I imagine it has its good points, but I never saw them. Well, Roz, that's all from here for now. I imagine Lt. Hill gives you all the dope for your "Society and Love-Lorn Page" so all this Hollywood gossip would seem mild in comparison. I'll send weather reports-O.K.?" (No, Howie, we'll leave that to the California chambers of commerce. Remember, Whitey Hill operates on a national scale. If you hear anything about his social activities out there, let's have it.) . . From Capt. Norman Steussy, Somewhere in Italy: "Dear Roz: I want to congratulate you and your wife on the new arrival at your house. I notice the stork brought you a little "Wac" or "Wave," just as he did us last September. (Looks as tho we're both in the same boat-without any Skipper-doesn't it, Norman?) While I write this, I am sitting in my tent eating peanuts and drinking a bottle of Scotch ale. Isn't much to say about this country. Hope another Drizzle will catch up with me soon." . . From Vincent Gerry, also Somewhere in England: "Sure is great to receive The Drizzle. Just back on duty after several weeks in a hospital. Suppose you know I am in a parachute outfit and I sure like it. It's a great privilege to be in this branch of the service even tho it is pretty dangerous. Wish I could see some of the boys from home I used to play ball with-Leon Babler, Wilbert and Mel Marty, and "Bo" Woelffer-to name a few of them. When Harris Babler said, "Sweat it out," I know just what he means. That's what we do every time we go up until they say, "Stand up and hook up." Then one feels at home. You really have an awful feeling tumbling head over heels in midair, but when your chute opens, you just want to shout with joy. Must close. God bless all the boys and Roz. Your friend, Vincent."


Lt. Hoppe Babler blasts back at "Doc" Youngreen for his aspersions anent his billiard ball wizardry: "I can't endure the assault of "slings and arrows" from that old dispenser of "sneaky Pete"-H. (Doc) Youngreen. You know, Roz, some people are never satisfied and this so-called wearer of "the Caduceus"-Youngreen--says his New Year was totally lacking in garnishments. Since the Doc is an old hand at the dispensing art and inasmuch as all medics have easy access to the G. I. supply-well, it just doesn't add up. Who does he think he's kidding? Spent most of the winter entertaining visiting movie queens such as Ingrid, M. O'Driscoll, and Olivia de Havilland." (Come, come, Hoppe, please remember Whitey Hill reads The Drizzle, too. How he'll long for the Aleutians now!) . . And now God's gift to the girls-Whitey himself-speaks: "Dear Drizzle plus 1: Well, how about a cigar, Roz? (You're a little young to be smoking cigars, Whitey. Wait until you're a little older and I'll buy you one-maybe.) Congratulations. Looks like you're trying to raise cheer leaders. How about a quarterback? (What's the use of raising quarterbacks: Stuhldreher calls all the signals from the bench, anyway.) Not much coming out of me this month-never known myself to be so reticent. Eats are good here. Might even get a steak now and then. Saw a honey-I mean steak-in Temple the other night. One plate wouldn't have held it. What sort of an excuse has Becker dug up for the misfortune that befell him at the Brodhead tournament? I'll bet it's a dandy story. (There was a report that "Beck" jumped off the Main Street bridge the night of the debacle. I don't know who could have started such a vicious rumor. Oh, that's right. I just happened to think. I guess I did.) Have to ring off. Keep 'em coming-The Drizzle, too, Whitey."


To these Drizzle donors: Robert F. (Bob) Marty, Monroe; Connie Stauffacher, Fred Stauffacher, Nathan Crouch, Dr. Baebler, H. J. Elmer, Glenn Zimmerman, Emma Marty, Irene Marty, Fannie G. Benkert, Fred Escher, Mrs. John Streiff, Dr. Horne, Casper Blum, Mrs. Harry Edwards, Albany, and Dr B. L. Clarke.


Awfully sorry to have had to boil so many of your letters so drastically, but the last three pages have been a struggle for space. Just in "over the wires!" A flash from Emil Weigert in England. Emil's rarin' to go, itchin' for the invasion to start, and he says that when the Yanks land in France, they'll make it so hot for Hitler, he'll think Hell is just a side-show! S'Long for now. And in the meantime, here's tons of the very best of luck to each and every one of you!!

The Monticello Drizzle, created for the Monticello Area Historical Society
by Roger and Madeleine Dooley.
A softcover copy can be purchased by contacting
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