 Nissen
Huts
were the quarters for the 508th on the Cromore Estate,
Portstewart, Ireland
 The
actual Blue Star flag that hung in the window of the Montague home
while John was deployed overseas
 "Practice
Landing"
a fanciful parachute drop with a background that almost seems
to foretell the 508th in Korea ... but that was to be years into the
future. |
Easter Sunday--
England --
Apr 9, '44
Dear Harriett, Peggy & Pop
I received your most welcome letters and the box of candy you sent
a few days ago and sure was glad to receive them. Thank you
very much.
Then yesterday the pen you sent arrived, (which I am using now) and
your air mail letter with the stamps in it. Thank you again.
I am sorry that I haven't written sooner, but we are kept "kinda"
busy ---
As you can see as I told you in my other letter that we have
moved.
I am on detached service now for a while. I am a "M.P." or
Military Police. It isn't such a bad job and the chow is good.
The chow is what counts over here.
It is raining here this afternoon but not very hard.
Gee this pen works swell only my penmanship is not hot.
The people over in Ireland were very nice. Especially one person,
ha ha.
Well, I am afraid I must close now as it is getting near chow time.
Write soon
Love
John
|
We've Done Our Hitch in Hell
I've been sitting here
and thinking, of the
things i left behind
And I'd hate to put on paper, what is
running through my mind
We've dug a million ditches, and cleared
ten miles of ground
And a meaner place this side of hell,
is waiting to be found
But there's one consolation, listen closely
while I tell
When were due, we'll go to heaven, for
we've our hitch in hell.
We've built a million
kitchens, for the
cooks to stew our beans
We've stood a hundred guard mounts, and
cleaned the camp's latrines
We've washed a thousand mess kits and
peeled a million spuds
We've rolled a dozen bed rolls, and washed
the Major's duds
The number of parades we've stood, is very
hard to tell
But we won't parade in heaven, for
we done our hitch in hell.
We've killed a million
rats and bugs, that
crawled out of our cots
We've pulled a hundred centipedes out of
ditty sheets
We've been bitten by mosquitoes, and even
flying ants
We've picked up trash and matches, in
our only Sunday pants
Buys when our work on earth is done, our
friends will tell
When they died they went to heaven
for they did their hitch in hell.
|
And when life's work is ended, and we
set aside life's cares
We'll do our last parade up those Golden
Shining Stairs
The angels will all welcome us, and the
harps will start to plat
We'll draw a million canteen books, and
spend them in a day
It is then we'll hear St. peter say, with
a loud and husky yell,
'Take a front seat soldiers, you've done
your hitch in Hell"
Sent home from England
by
John R. Montague
508th Parachute Inf. |
