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Title: The O'Reilly Letters
Rating: K (Suitable for ages 13 and above)
Disclaimers: With the exception of Malachi Reddington and Cornelius Noonan, all names given are fictional. The mentioned characters Tony Carpullo, Bill Meinertzhagen, and Captain McCawley were RP characters belonging to others. All other named characters are mine.
Summary: The incomplete collection of letters exchanged between a US soldier and his friends and family.  5/23
Author's Note:  These letters were originally posted as supporting extras on a WWII RP. They were fun to write and I might add one or two more in future.

9th October 1942
USS Ulysses S. Grant

Dearest Kat,

You'd hardly believe the scenes here. Within an hour of sailing, lads started getting seasick and it ain't hardly stopped since. We had a little storm or some thing a couple days out and it got worse. The latrines are all bust and overflowing and the buckets given us by the Navy ain't enough. A couple minutes ago, a fella called Lyons emptied his guts right into the aisle. That's where it'll stay too on account of no body being fit enough to clean it up. I ain't been sick me own self, thank God. These poor lads are in a right low state and all their messes make this place stink something awful.

They gave us colored cards when we went onboard and these was to mark our meal times and exercise times too. We only get a half-hour up on deck every day. Same goes for meals. It's three sittings a day but a half-hour each, because they got so many lads to feed. Some body said there's five sittings each meal and I believe it because there's so many of us onboard. There's a wager going about how long it'll be before they run out of food for every body.

Danny and me got different colored cards so we don't get to eat or go on deck together but we managed to work it out so our bunks are next to each other. It cost a couple packs of cigarettes from each of us but smokes are better currency than dollars here. If you can get a carton of Lucky Strikes for cheap please send it out. Well. When we get to land again I oughta have an address again.

I'll never say a bad word about the firehouse again after this, I promise before God. The stink is fair terrible and there's no fresh air except on deck and no body has had a wash since we sailed. Every thing that can hold vomit is filled and overflowing with it. Even the sinks. Water's been rationed too so I only shaved twice since last I wrote. Every body looks forward to getting off this ship fair badly and it don't hardly matter where we are so long's we can get clear of this ship and onto land again.

It makes me happy to not have went into the Navy I'll tell you. Francis must have been out of his head but maybe a real fighting ship is better than a troopship. I asked one of the Navy lads about Francis' ship and he said she's new but he didn't know much about her even though he used to be on a destroyer himself. He said a destroyer was the best ship to be on though on account of them being fast and tough. I wonder if him and Patrick have crossed paths yet.

I don't know when they'll send our mail out but there ain't any thing much to do here except play Blackjack or write letters or sleep. Some of the boys brought books out with them and have been reading and sharing their books around too. No body knows where we're heading so trying to figure it out is a favorite subject. Mostly we find our own ways to make the time pass. I got a couple letters including this one piled up ready to go for when they tell us the mail is going out and hopefully there'll be mail waiting for us when we get where ever it is we're going. There ain't much I'd like more than a letter from you.

I hope you and every body are well and that Mikey is behaving like I asked him to. Is he?

Love always,



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April 2017


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