We were on shipboard by the next afternoon. When I got back to the company area on the preceding morning, most of the packing had been finished.

One day on board ship, our chief chaplain, Lt. Colonel Jim Dunford visited our group and related some of his war experiences. Walking the dock area of New Caledonia and nosing around the stacked cases of supplies he found two crates: Contents: canned spinach. Att: Major General A. Patch. Knowing full well that our commanding general didn't need both cases, he lifted one into his Jeep and told the driver to take off. Back at his tent he found, as suspected, that the crate contained Johnny Walker Scotch spinach. He said he couldn't stomach the taste of scotch so he distributed it among the wounded on Guadalcanal.

He told, too, of celebrating his first Mass on Guadalcanal. He wondered where he would find alter boys. Heaven sent, two marines volunteered. The chaplain noted that they were a bit inept but considered that they were probably out of practice. After Mass had ended, he took off his vestments and went out to thank the servers. They were gone and so were all of the candles from the altar.

This reminds me of a human interest chaplain story that happened on Bougainville. Bob Griffin, a tent mate, asked one day if I ever got any binoculars that couldn't be fixed but were still useable. His good buddy, the Methodist chaplain, had made the request, since he had wanted binoculars since he was a kid. Bob and I went to the repair tent where I had a new 7X50 instrument. We stuffed the binoculars into a moldy, torn case and took it to the young chaplain. When he opened the case and pulled the contents out, his eyes got as big as saucers. He handed them back to me: "These are brand new. I can't accept these. I just wouldn't feel right." Nevertheless, we convinced him that he should have them (it didn't take much talking), and we traded a new case for the old beat-up one. Every time I met him after that, he told me how great the "spy glasses" were.

We had boarded ship in mid-January. We stayed in the bay for several days. We seemed to be steaming ahead at good speed but each morning when we got out on deck we could see nothing but endless ocean. Finally, on one of the last days of January we sighted land and disembarked at Leyte in the Philippines. Our landing point was near Tacloban (TACK-LOW-BUN) on the eastern coast. Since the initial beachhead had been established in this area on October 20 and present combat operations were confined to the western part of the island, we were in a lull. Celebrations for liberation by the local inhabitants were long forgotten and battle areas were far enough removed that they had no effect on us.

Things had taken a strange turn. Supplies came in! Spare parts, replacements, supplies of all sorts. We were told to turn in our M-1 rifles and pick up new carbines. I had been back ordering watch oil since New Caledonia, meanwhile watching our single one ounce bottle dwindle to the last few drops. Our supplies contained a twelve bottle case of watch oil! New tools for all sections. It was unbelievable after years of making do.

The third day on Leyte we were put to work digging a 20 ft X 20 ft square foundation on which a cement floor was to be laid. It took us three days to complete the job but we had a good solid base for one of our repair shops. This was permanence!

We were quartered in circus tents - twenty four men to a tent. One day a Philippine shrimp fisherman came in with a proposal: for six dollars (twenty five cents per man) he would supply french fried shrimp for breakfast. The next morning, bright and early, he showed up with his basket of steaming shrimp. Delicious and plenty for everyone. We agreed it was a good deal. But then she showed up again the next morning and we found out that the six dollars covered six days. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking for repeat business.

We were paid on the last day of January - in Philippine pesos! The exchange rate was two pesos to one dollar. We did not receive paper currency. The pesos were silver coins larger than our American silver dollars. Quite a load to carry around.

We couldn't figure out what was going on. We were kept busy doing nothing. Our shops were not set up and daily, just about, we passed the concrete slab which we had constructed a week before. It was still there with no structure over it. No one seemed to know what its function would be or when, if ever.

One morning the supply officer came around and told me we were going to the medical supply at the airport to pick up our monthly allotment of grain alcohol which we used for cleaning optics. Each month, as regular as clockwork, we drew an allotment of two quarts and that amount was just enough to last the month. Usually the medical supply clerk handed over the two bottles and I signed a receipt, which I never read.

This time the clerk said I'd have to wait. The medical supply officer wanted to talk to me. I thought I noticed a quick wink as a high sign. The officer came in and, with apologies, explained that grain alcohol was in short supply and, if we could handle it, he would cut our allotment from four to three quarts per month. I agreed to give it a try, but "if I find we're running low near the end of the month I'll have to ask for enough to tide over." Agreed. I left, knowing what the wink was: each month I got two bottles and the clerk's entertainment supply got two bottles. But don't let him know.

It was a very strange period. Busy every day but actually seeing no results. Orders and countermanding orders. For example: One week we were told that the fighting men didn't get days off for the week-end. So for two weeks we worked a seven day week. But there was really nothing to do. At the end of the second week an order came down from headquarters that all service groups should have ample time for recreation. So we were organized into four softball teams and a company tournament was set in motion. I was left fielder or short stop for the most inept team in the group. We won the tournament!

More supplies arrived: Navy T-shirts, so no more sleeveless undershirts. Our company was allocated three double barreled shotguns with three ammunition vests and boxes of shells. The supply sergeant took off and came back with a duck. We were given more tools of every variety. On and on and on, it was a real bonanza after 2 1/2 years of famine.

We knew that our three infantry regiments and the artillery groups were on the western side of Leyte fighting tough battles. But there was not a thought that we should be doing something to help. We were busy every day, but seemingly with no aim.