Utopia in Arkansas
Sirs:
Here is a letter from my recently mobilized "little" brother [Staff Sergeant Lysle I. Abbott, at Camp Joseph T. Robinson, Little Rock, Ark.]. He is 22 years old; graduated from college last year and intends to resume his education in law after his military service is completed. . . .
MILDRED FINDLEY New York City
. . . These tents we are living in are not tents at all, but rather cabins. Canvas they do have, but the board floors, over cement blocks, plus clapboard siding, coupled with the glass doors and gas stoves, make for real convenience. However, that wasn't enough. No, the Army has to pass out spring beds, with brand-new mattresses. Still not enough; new mattress covers, great big pillows, also new pillow slips, sheets, and new blankets.
We have electric lights, thus we are fully enabled to enjoy life to radio music. Our requisition was completed today, so tomorrow we will draw our new uniforms, which include, among other things, underwear, two, both cotton and wool longies, sox, overshoes, and even wrist watches, for four of us. ...
Caroline should see these kitchens. Four gas ranges (all this gas for hot water and cooking and heating is natural gas), two iceboxes that would fill our whole kitchen . . . brand-new, white-enameled.
Right across the street is the canteen, in which we can buy anything we want. Next door to that is the recreation hall, which is the nuts. Stage and movie projectors. About a half mile down the line is a swimming pool, just built, which could easily contain four Peony Parks.
When we arrived Monday, after a swell train ride, in our drawing room, workmen were still working. In fact there were 5,000 of them, who come every morning still. They are painting and plumbing as if their hearts would break. . . .
When mess call blows, we stroll into the mess hall, sit down and eat like pigs. Talk about service—we are waited on by K. P.'s. Dishes of food are on the tables. We'd die if we had to wash our own mess kits. In fact we don't even have mess kits, all we have to do is eat. The plates, hotel china, are washed by cooks in the automatic dishwashers. . . . Honestly one cannot possibly exaggerate the utter comfort we have.
I can't help but feel the President has something to do about this. Really I believe it would take a man of his position to see we are getting such wonderful attention. . . .
War, Peace & Money
Sirs:
Under "Fiscal" (TIME, Jan. 20), I read what you had to say about taxes and the budget . . . : "He [Franklin Roosevelt] termed the U. S. tax burden 'moderate' compared to other countries—somewhat as a doctor might advise a patient suffering from pneumonia in one lung that other people had double pneumonia."
I take it that a patient suffering from pneumonia in one lung—feeling bad enough —would rather escape pneumonia in the other lung—which he certainly will not do by kicking around and utterly disorganizing himself —destroying any body unity he could build up. A wise patient will swallow the nasty medicine—will ask for nastier medicine—in a chance to spare the other lung.
Doctors know—just as dictators know—that complaining patients weaken themselves. . . .