Susanna's national tour...

In the summer of 1943 as Universal was releasing it's 1.7 million dollar Phantom of the Opera across a nation gripped in world war, Susanna simultaneously embarks on a publicity tour across the same nation.. Susanna is 18 years old…letters from the hinterland:

Found letter, written on board The Chief of the Sante Fe Line, from my mother to her father Les--

On board the…Santa Fe Line- The Chief-

Monday August 16, 1943 3:45 PM

Dear Dad---

I have done nothing but sleep since I got on this wagon. Slept all day Sunday---slept all night- Slept all day today. It’s a wonderful train and the foods marvelous we get in Chicago tomm. at 1:45 leave for Minneapolis the same day at 11:pm, get in at 8:45 Wed. morning. Leave there August 22 (Sunday Nite)- arrive New York August 25— Staying at Niccolet in Minneapolis and probably Sherry-Netherlands in N.Y. will let you know.

About the car- Don’t forget to get the wheels put in line- they’re all crooked and it’s worn down the front tires- you’ll probably have to get the tire re-capped.---The one in the trunk has to be fixed too. Because the wheels are so terrifically out of line it nearly ruined the tire. Then get the valves ground, new rings or anything else the motor needs. Then get the seats covered---the best you can get.---and the best upholsterer!!!! Then get the fender fixed and any other painting it needs.---also a simonizing job. The radio has to be fixed—and the little light that turns on when you open the door. The bulb is in the compartment. Please try and get all these things done before I come back because I’ll need the car everyday and won’t be able to have it done. Would you please send me some samples of materials for the seat covers? If you will call the automobile club they’ll send you to the best places to get those thing done. Call Wally Walker at State 4-2056 and he’ll give the telephone number of the man who takes care of my membership at the auto club. This man’s name is Hartford but I don’t know his phone number but Wally will tell you. Wally is a friend of his. I think you’ll find if you call the club they’ll give the best information.—after all, that’s one of the reasons I belong to it-----Thanks a lot for doing it---it’ll sure be nice to come back to a nice new car. You can send the samples of the seat covers to New York, I’ll let you know when. And as the mechanical things are concerned and the fender---(shaky writing) Harrison Rhoads (RHOADS) (this train jerks like hell) Anyway it’s Rhoads, will probably do the best job---oh well you’ll know what to do with it. I just can’t write anymore---he’s going over the bumpiest track in Colorado—I’ll write you from Minneapolis. Love Suzy

Found letters from Susanna to her mother and also her father-

Written at New York City's 'Sherry-Netherland

August 27, 1943 The Sherry-Netherlands Hotel NYC—

Dear Dad,

I’ve never been so unhappy as I am right this minute. Up till now everything has been so wonderful and almost unbelievably perfect.

Yesterday it was all spoiled by a telephone call from Dan Kelly. I have tried so hard at Universal and I’ve never been so happy as I have been at the result of my trying hard. Because even though there have been times when we haven’t seen eye to eye on things (“TopMan”, for example) we have always worked it out amicably. But, well, what happened yesterday I will never understand, ever. Mr. Kelly called about the USO tour I was supposed to go out on from New York. Because I’m so tired and want to come home I arranged through the Selznick office here for me to go on the tour October 18^th—instead of now. Well, Mr. Kelly didn’t like it and called me long distance about it (or he had us call him I don’t know which). He said the Studio wanted me to work in November and they didn’t want me to come back from a camp tour all tired out. Well, I have been tired out the last six months. I’ve asked for time off and Mr. Kelly has always said that work was good for me and he intended to keep me working.

So I don’t understand why they are suddenly interested in whether I’m tired before I start a picture because I was tired before I started “This is the Life” and more tired when I started “Top Man” and then I went right on this tour still tired. That’s why I cried when he talked to me on the telephone. Daddy, I’ve never had anyone yell at me like that. I was hurt and angry and embarrassed for him---all three things at once. It was such a mean thing to do---and he said such mean things. --- I had been cooperative so far but now I was being temperamental.---“your unpatriotic and don’t give a damn about the boys”---things like that.

Well it hurt that anyone should say or even think anything like that—when you know how hard I tried to get overseas. I don’t see why they couldn’t do me a favor and let me come home for six weeks and then do the camp shows in October. It won’t be conflicting with a picture and I’ll feel much better and have more rest if I can come home. I just and can’t understand why such a commotion is being raised. The USO is happy the way it is and I don’t see why Mr. Kelly shouldn’t be. I’ve never felt so miserable about anything. I cried terribly and it was very embarrassing because there were people in the apartment. And today we had an interview with a man from Life and a cocktail party for magazine editors etc. and my eyes were so swollen I could hardly see out of them---I really looked a mess---all on account of that phone call. I will never again talk to Mr. Kelly on the telephone. I won’t be yelled at like that. I’m terribly upset and I wish I could get on a train tomorrow. I can’t understand why he should be like that to me.

Well, we leave here next Friday, Sept 3 and I will probably see you the following Monday. Love to the kids and I’ll see you soon. Love Suzy

August 28, 1943 Sherry-Netherlands Hotel

Dear Mother: Well all I can say is certainly I will be glad to get home, I’m so tired and homesick-and just ill from trains and hotels and interviews and people. This hotel is so big you could get lost in it. We have an apartment that’s costing $60 a day. A living room that’s huge, a dining room, 2 bedrooms, 2 baths (just immense with everything marble). A kitchen and hallways and foyers all over the joint. It’s really quite something. We overlook Central Park and they have hansoms with horses and drivers with high silk hats to drive you through the park. We did it the other night and the park is so beautiful and those high buildings against the sky with their lighted windows- it’s an experience I will never forget. New York is so alive even when it’s raining, which it’s been doing the last couple of days. It’s in such a flurry of excitement-there’s a feeling in the air of unexpected happenings. It’s a marvelous place and it’s certainly understandable that people get attached to it. Yet L.A. is the same way. I miss my apartment in the hills and Hollywood Blvd. and Nancy’s and drive-ins. L.A. has something too, you realize it when you go away from it. I would rather live here (in the country somewhere and then come here for the excitement when you wanted it) or there. I had a hat made for me by Robert Dudley, it cost $35. It’s big and it’s black velvet. We went to Lily Dache and I thought her hats stunk---she was joking. All the models she put on me looked like they’d been in the rain and I told her so. She’s the babe that’s supposed to make the best hats in the world---she charges terrific prices---and believe me, they stink. John Fredericks is the same way. We went to look for clothes—Bonwit Teller, The Tailored Woman, Bergdorf Goodman. They have wonderful jewelry too. By the way, I’m going to get you something and I don’t know what to get. Would you like a hat or jewelry? I don’t know what to do you’re a hard person to by for.

I got a letter from you- know- who the other day-I wrote it down in the kids letter—and they’ll send it to you when they open it. Don’t open ‘till they do because that wouldn’t be nice. It’s written to them. Don’t tell anyone about it! Because it might start a lot of unnecessary trouble. I don’t think the studio is any too hot on the idea. They don’t know anything because we hardly know each other—but a publicity director saw us together one night and naturally assumed plenty.---which is typical of their little minds. I don’t know why they’d object---but I have a hunch they would. I feel it’s my business and it certainly couldn’t harm me even if they thought so---don’t you agree? You know they’re always afraid their little starlets are going to get married and spoil their careers (which is ridiculous). In the first place I have no intention of getting married for a long, long time to anyone. Believe me, I’m not madly in love with anybody and even if I were, I would think 18 times before I did and count to 1,000,000—and that would take a long time. Keep your mouth shut---to anybody on it—even people who say they know—because nobody knows and it’s better not discuss it.--- People are assuming an awful lot anyway. It’s important that you do this because it might be detrimental to me, my career etc. Miss you a lot and can’t wait to get home. Love Suzanne

NEW YORK POST, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 1943

It Happened Last Night

By EARL WILSON

Miss Foster, Movie Starlet, Explains Not Being in Love

I had a big, mad date with slightly gorgeous Susanna Foster, 18, the blonde Universal starlet, but romantically, the thing was a bust. My advice to you, in case anybody wants you to go out with an 18yo starlet, is to tell them you’ve got to go to the library to look up recipes. For instance, the press agents assured me I would be allowed, personally, to dance with Miss Foster—in short to hold this bundle of Minneapolis and Hollywood loveliness in my arms. So while we were sitting there in El Morocco, I said, “How about it Susanna, lets have a little dance?” She tossed her long blonde hair back and said “No thanks.” Well I could name any number of women who think I’m a wonderful dancer, so I got miffed, where upon Miss Foster looked deep into my eyes, leaned close and said: “I can’t dance and I don’t dance. Ten thousand wild horses wouldn’t get me out on that floor. It’s a silly form of amusement—and I can’t see it!” “When your out with boys on dates,” I said, “and they ask you dance, what happens?” “I refuse,” announced Miss Foster sternly. “If they don’t like it they can lump it. All the wolves dance. Then they lead you up to those Hollywood Hills afterward.”

“Speaking of wolves,” “I said, “how about necking? I mean of course how do you feel about necking?”

“THAT,” said Miss Foster, testily “is REALLY stupid. That’s so SILLY.” Imagine people just sitting for hours, just necking.. I’ve necked just twice in my life—out of curiosity. Just because somebody told me that all men kissed alike! Well, I found out I couldn’t participate in such goings on.” Miss Foster then told me about how busy she’s been making the picture “Phantom of the Opera,” and studying voice, and aiming for the Metropolitan Opera, that she had no time for dates. In fact I was her first date in eight or nine months—my wife and me. If any fellow is to be in love with me,” she confided, “he’s going to have to do it without going out on dates with me. Why bother about dates? I’m so fatalistic—if I’m going to find him. I’m going to find him. I had two boy friends. The first one didn’t get past the hand holding stage. He was a nice kid. That was the trouble. A nice kid! Oh, I’d love to fall in love with jerk and be nuts about him.”

I asked Miss Foster if it could be possible she had never been in love. “Oh, I had a mad crush on Robert Preston of the movies, who’s now in the Air Corps. It was strictly for afar. He broke my heart—almost. I carried the torch for almost a year. He must have known it—the way I visited his sets. When he got married, I was ready to commit suicide. I cried for twelve hours. Oh, that was dreadful…..”

If you’ve been wondering what’s wrong with Miss Foster, the answer is that she has been in Hollywood since she was twelve, constantly under training by studio teachers. She has never been given the chance to mingle with other children, and therefore has not acquired even the rudiments of an ordinary high school education—such as jitterbugging and writing fan letters to Frank Sinatra. Indeed when somebody mentioned the word reefer, Miss Foster looked up suddenly and said, “What’s a reefer?” Uneducated, that’s all.

Actually, of course, she’s a bright girl, with a mind of her own. Her family in Minneapolis was poor at times and she says she remembers Saturday nights “as the nights you went downtown, about once a year, to buy $2.98 shoes.” “Now,” she says, “I can wear $20 shoes—so what? I don’t want a life that’s a bed of roses.

I want a busy and enthusiastic life, and I want to get married and have four or five kids. But as I told you, I don’t have dates. I sit home and play records and twiddle my thumbs. The boys call up and ask me, but I say ‘So long, buddy,’ Why should I go out and be bored silly? Phooey.” “Some of them,” she added, indignantly, “have a line you could hang your clothes on!”

Found letter from mom to her father, Susanna gets a little 'tipsey'--

Sept. 2, 1943 Sherry-Netherlands- 1:00am

Dear Dad:

Just got your scribble and thought I’d dash you some more scribbles before we leave Friday afternoon. We’re coming home on the Chief and will be in sometime in the morning, Monday------ I don’t know whether we’re going to get off in Pasadena or not.--- I’ll wire you and let you know. I have a miserable case of hay fever---and I’ve really been sick with it today. I had it in Minneapolis—Chicago---but it wasn’t so bad---but here in New York there’s something in the air called “ragweed” about this time of year. And believe me I’ve really felt lousy---sneeze, sneeze,sneeze ‘till my head just rings with aches----ugh.

About the boy-friend, I’ve wanted to write you before about him because I can put things down on paper better than I can when I’m opening my big mouth, because I usually put my big foot in it. But I didn’t because I was certain that I should. You know that I can always come to you on something terrifically terrific that’s bothering me.---and I always do---like the overseas joint---this thing with Kelly---everybody was against me on that---they were so afraid the studio might be mad at me (I’m enclosing a telegram, one of the biggest exhibitions in the Northwest sent to the coast but you were the only person who saw how I felt.---and didn’t worry about my “career.” I feel about this “boyfriend”—like I’ve never felt about anybody before. I like him. ---what’s inside of him. Not just his personality or his appearance. I’ve been afraid to tell you anything about it because I felt you’d be either angry or worried. I hope because he’s half Turkish it doesn’t annoy you. Anyway you can’t stop somebody from being in love. His race means nothing to me---he’s white. As a mater-of-fact because he’s Turkish, he has more culture than men his age. Besides everything is very casual so far. We hardly no each other very well---but there’s something definitely there---he knows it and I know it. You may rest assured that it will be sometime before I contemplate marriage---but if I were to decide that he was the guy for me, you would be the first to know, way in advance. You know, Daddy, that for all my stubbornness and willfulness---I love you very much and respect how you feel about things. That’s why it would hurt me if you didn’t like him or not try to like him.

He’s a wonderful person and has a soul, which is certainly rare in anybody nowadays. I will never rush into anything. Regardless of the fact that I’m supposed to be so impetuous---that is something I would think a long time about. But if after I had thought a long time, and decided that a certain guy was the guy for me, this guy or any other guy, please respect my feelings---and be happy about it. It would break my heart if you ever disapproved of the guy I had chosen.

Everybody here has been dragging me to nite-clubs—Stork Club, Café Society, El Morocco etc. And I’ve been bored stiff—but you can’t tell them that---they think you’re a jerk and aren’t having a good time and you sit in the hotel and look out the window. So, I’ve had to traipse out to all the dives in New York or they’ll be hurt and think they haven’t shown me a good time. BY “they” I mean Universal.

By the way I’m through with liquor----never again will I touch the stuff---not even wine. We went out one night and drank a whole lot of different kinds of stuff---and the next day I’ve never felt so terrible in my life, I couldn’t hang up my coat, threw up for three days!!! My God, so right then and there I resolved “never again!” You know, it doesn’t do you a damn bit of good---your old before your time---and for this “kick” everybody screams about---I can twirl a couple of times and get the same effect! I feel much happier and full of life when I haven’t had anything to drink. So I swore off. My drinking career is over. We’ve been out several times since and I won’t touch it----I sit and drink “cokes” and ginger-ale. They all make fun of me but I don’t care---I can’t look it in the face. I’m much better off. They’re so (?) they don’t have any natural enthusiasm so they drink to get what they call a “glow”. Fooey. I’ve gotten one good thing out of this trip.---I shouldn’t say just one good thing—the trip has done me a lot of good---- I’ve met a lot of important people who remember and do a lot for me. well it’s getting late---so I’ll go and drop this in the box and see you Monday! Love Suzy

Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper were the two reigning gossip queens in 30’s and 40’s Hollywood. Next page—text of two page article (many photos).

HOLLYWOOD

By Louella Parsons

Motion Picture Editor, International News Service

Susanna Foster, Star Of “The Phantom,” A

New Film Personality

Golden-Voiced Susanna Foster establishes herself as one of the

great stars of today in Universal’s Technicolor

“The Phantom of the Opera” coming soon to B’way.

HOLLYWOOD, September 25.

Indignation flashed in Susanna Foster’s blue eyes—that anyone should dare to start feud between her and Deanna Durbin.

“I don’t care who the writer or commentator is,” said Susanna. “No one can make trouble between Deanna and me! I was worried at first that Deanna might think I was presumptuous enough to consider myself her rival,” she told me, curling up in a chair in my playroom.

You know, when I went to Universal,” said Susanna, who is just back from a tour from her highly successful “Phantom of the Opera,” “I thought Deanna would be high hat and temperamental. After all, she is Universal’s greatest stars.”

“You needn’t worry,” I told Susanna. “I had a note from Deanna, and she was as upset as you are. She knew you had nothing to do with it—but tell me about your trip.”

Thrilled at ‘Met’ in N.Y.

“The most breathless moment,” she said, with awe in her voice, “was when I stood on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House. I closed my eyes and pretended I was singing in a great opera. Even though the house was vacant, I could feel the chills go up and down my spine.”

“You’ll get there someday,” I told her.

“I want that more than anything in the world,” she said. “I pray and hope I can be as great a star as Grace Moore. I adore her.”

I first knew Susanna when she was about thirteen and didn’t know what to do with their hands and feet. She, even then, had a gorgeous singing voice.

The next several paragraphs were unreadable (water damage).

‘Break’ came in Nick of Time

“For forty days I was out of work, as discouraged and blue as anybody could be. I was flat broke, too.

I began to think I should go back home to Minneapolis and get a job.

“But somehow we managed to remain here and –on the forty first day of unemployment—I got a call from Universal. It came in the nick of time.”It was a matter of luck for Susanna, and fate the “U” was readying the old operatic chiller-diller, “Phantom of the Opera,” just as she arrived at the studio to fulfill her contract. The movie put her in the star group the minute it was released, and for this Susie is everlastingly grateful to George Wagner, the producer, and her “U” bosses.

But she has particular words of praise for Nelson Eddy. “I am so grateful to him, “ she says enthusiastically.

“He taught me so much—about how to stand before the camera, and all about being ‘upstage’ or ‘downstage.’ He is the most unselfish actor I have ever worked with, and he deliberately gave me many scenes which he might have dominated himself.”

Success hasn’t gone to Susie’s head. She is the most completely honest person I have ever met. When I told her I thought she looked so lovely in Technicolor she said: “Yes, I need all the trimmings they can give me!”

I don’t know about that. The Susanna of today—poised, fresh-faced and lovely to look at—has come a long way from the “brat” of four years ago.

New York World-Telegram October 15, 1943

Movies by Alton Cook - Improved Phantom Film ‘Discovers’ Susanna Foster

Lon Chaney’s old horror classic, The Phantom of the Opera has had most of the chills removed in the new version just opened at the Capitol. The 1943 version is a spectacular operetta, an extraordinarily good one, richly melodious and set in backgrounds of large scale Technicolor magnificence. Despite the glow that passage of twenty years adds to an old favorite. I insist the new Phantom is an improvement.

The excitement is not neglected, but most of it is packed into the last half hour. Only the general idea of the old story is preserved. The new version is mainly a story about singers, and we are allowed to hear them sing a great deal and superbly well.

Instead of drawing on the conventional operatic repertoire, two new operatic scenes were written for Nelson Eddy , Susanna Foster and company. A French aria or two were fashioned from the piano melodies of Chopin, sounding very well in their vocal settings. The same thing was done to make part of a Russian opera from the themes of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony. These adaptations are credited to Edward Ward, who has done all manners of movie music but nothing else as impressive as this.

The new Phantom was not born a monster. His unspoken reverence for a young soprano (Miss Foster) leads him into financial difficulties and a murderous quarrel climaxed by a spurt of acid in his face. Disfigured and hunted, he hides in the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera, there hoping to continue his assistance to his protégé by terrorizing the impresario into to giving her better roles.

Claude Rains as Phantom- Claude Rains plays the Phantom with ominous unction, suggesting the ultimate madness by repressed intensity instead of the wild terror that characterized Lon Chaney’s original. Nelson eddy had varied his appearance by donning a brunette wig, but no one has tampered with the beauty of his great baritone voice. He and Edgar Barrier rise many steps above usual operetta comedy in some amusing exchanges as rival suitors.

The great person of this cast, however, is Susanna Foster, a lusciously attractive blond girl with a rich full soprano voice. This girl, heard only occasionally in other movies, blossoms out as one of the great musical discoveries of our new cinema season. This picture aimed at a variety of tastes and hit accurately on all of them—light music, opera, spectacle, melodrama and a trace of horror.

Apparently, Susanna did get her way with Mr. Kelly and Universal--

Found letters from Susanna to her dad while on the USO tour-

October 20, 1943 Bryan, Texas (solo (?)-USO tour)

Dear Dad and Kids,

For my dough the Mexicans could have kept it. I’ve never been in such a dirty hole. The people are just filthy- Our train was three hours late getting into El Paso where we were supposed to transfer to another train to Sweetwater, Mr. Bermani (Susanna was accompanied by Bermani (piano) and Lois Garrison (chaperone) Lois is Susanna’s cousin, daughter of Fred Garrison, Lester’s uncle and Althena’s brother) prefers to call it Sourwater. .....I can think of a few other names. Well, the Sweetwater Special doesn’t wait for anybody, you could be delivering an iron lung to General MacArthur and if your ten minutes late the Sweetwater goes on like the mail. It’s a project with them. Ah, Texas! The spirit of the old frontier! Virile, that’s what it is. That isn’t all it is. Believe me.

So there we were- stranded in El Paso at 11:30 at night with no place to sleep and brother, I had no intention of slumming it with Don Jose in the station. We called just about every hotel in El Paso for a room and there wasn’t a thing to be had. we thought of going across the border to Juarez but decided against it. If Texas was dirty, God knows what Juarez was.

So Bermani (he’s been just wonderful- so many laughs) suggested we get a cab and perhaps the driver would know of a place where we could sleep. Well, we get one and chase all over El Paso looking for a hotel. When finally we found a dump called the “Carlyle”, and when I say dump, I mean hole. I have never seen anything like it except in a Universal horror picture. We paid the cab driver and went in to brave the old west. There was a dim light on what I suppose was a desk and an old geezer half asleep sitting behind it. With admirable courage I went up to him and asked if he had any space. “Yep” he then spit in a large gold spittoon...I swear it. With bath? “Yep” hot water? (spit) “Yep”, Well, may we register? “Shore....sign here lady”. It was a very engrossing conversation. I signed for the three of us and he gave us what I imagine were towels. we ascended two flights of rickety stairs, went down a couple of dark halls and finally came to No. 46. Which to my dying day, I will never forget. He unlocked the door (I don’t know why they even bother to lock them). And there it was! In all its glory. The ceiling and walls all falling off, linoleum on the floor, a dirty sink, and a window with a dark green torn shade. The bed looked worse than an army cot. Lois and I were to sleep here. Bermani had No. 44 next door. He went in to look at his while Lois and I turned back the sheets. we didn’t see anything then (but I sure felt ‘em later!). Bermani came back in and looked at me pitifully---”Aw keeds, I’m worried, you know vere da battroom is?”....” Vun bluck down and vun bluck over, tsk tsk it’s really very sadt.” He then looked under the bed and said “You never can tell”. ---He’s so cute- I’d be sick of it weren’t for the laughs he’s contributed and his wonderful sense of humor. He’s such a good sport. I can endure anything myself and if you have someone along that’s the same way, you can have a good time. And I really have. That’s what’s wonderful about traveling with men, they get a kick out of things, like we’ve been through , and so do I.

---so then, at 1:30 am we decided we were hungry. So we set out to find a restaurant......

I will never forget the fun we had that night. Dad, it’s really a shame you didn’t come along. Lois has been swell, and she’s such a good sport. But men join in.--do you know what I mean? Men are kids at heart anyway and don’t realize the seriousness of a situation like women do. I really wish you had been along. You’d have gotten a big kick out of it. There we were tramping down a strange street in El Paso at 1:30 in the morning singing the third Chopin Etude in march tempo. We rounded a corner and Bermani espied a chop suey joint and yelled “hey keeds...howsabout some chop suey?” Well, I was on for anything, but a nice juicey steak was more to my liking-but we went in had chop suey. We left there about 2:00a and decided we’d go across the border into Mexico. we had to change some money into $2 bills because the Mexicans won’t accept anything else. Other money can be counterfeited to easily. So we get about $25 or $30 between us in $2 bills and we hopped into a cab. The cab driver told us if we had any other money on us we better hide it because the authorities will take it away from you. So, then we had to think of a hiding place. we had about $300 between us and we hid it inside my panty girdle. I felt like a nazi. Of course the cab driver was nuts. All they did was ask us if we had changed our money and we told them we had. Well, we got a load of old Mexico and returned “home” to the Carlyle. well I was chewed from head to foot that nite. Lois and Bermani must be immune but brother I’m not! We had breakfast and got the train for Sweetwater at 11:30 and I knew I wood miss the show at Camp Bowie but I thought I would be able to do the Sunday one anyway.

Well, we were supposed to get into Sweetwater about 12:30 and I got a wire at 12:00 that the show at Camp Bowie had been cancelled. It seems Hollywood got the dates mixed up. We were supposed to have played Bowie on the 14th which was the day we left. And the thoughtful commander at Bowie wired me at the last minute and made no reservations at Sweetwater for us. There we were stranded again- and this of all places Sweetwater, God’s country. He’s the only guy that’d have it.

There are four hotels in Sweetwater--Why I don’t know, there’s a population of about 500. I called three and there was nothing and finally at the “Macie” I got two rooms. We stayed there overnight and it was a little better than the Carlyle. The next night we caught another dirty filthy milk train where we were met at 2:30am by a Lt. from Camp Hood. We stayed at the guest house there, and my dear, I slept with crickets as big as your thumb, I ate steaks (ugh!) with dead flys lying on top. It was allot of fun. Let me tell you, this USO thing is a big joke. This camp is the largest in America and they have 14 theatres, good food, good beds, entertainment all the time. I don’t know what the army is kicking about., they certainly aren’t starved for entertainment. It’s just ridiculous all this talk about the “poor boys”. The only ones to feel sorry for are the ones overseas, they’re going through hell and the boys in training on the desert with a quart of water a day and no entertainment for 2 and 3 months at a time. These are the guys that need it.

October 21- Austin, Texas: Sorry I couldn’t finish the above sooner but I’ll go on from there now. Well I’m telling you, I’ve really been given the run around on this trip. They should have sent a USO man with me . It’s stupid and negligent of them. I’ve done everything by myself and alone. I will never go on another tour without other acts. so far the boys have been marvelous, they’ve torn down the house---but it’s such a strain----at every camp singing classical music, I don’t mean on my voice but mentally. I’m always wondering if this is the time they aren’t going to like it. And believe me I’ve played, I’ve played to some crummy guys from the wrong side of the tracks. But I’ve been very lucky so far --they’ve all liked me.(funny how they go for “Estrellita”).

We left Camp Hood after a hectic time there singing everywhere and another thing, there are no gentleman in the army ‘cause they’re all kids but you know they all look at you as if they’d like to eat you and it makes me furious. I know one thing this tour hasn’t made me tolerant of the guys in service--they’re all people like you and me---no different---and this business of making heroes out of them is ridiculous. the guys overseas are going through hell--and I suppose you should feel sorry for those that are about to go over. But there is something about a guy that’s ungentlemanly that I abhor--and I can’t help it. And most of them are. And these officers! Do they have it easy! It’s the poor rookie that gets it every time. Talk about democracy, hell! There’s more class-consciousness in the army than anywhere else. We’d better get a little democracy in the army before we start fighting for it. Even in the Army the war is becoming a racket. Last night I played Byram field and it was swell. Today I visited the hospital wards and you know they took me in to see some boys (some were from the guard house and under guard) with venereal diseases etc. I asked the captain if they were contagious and he said no. So I shook hands with all of them.--But brother, when I came out they made me wash my hands with soap and alcohol. So don’t be surprised if I come down with gonarhea (hell--I don’t know how to spell it). So today we drive to Austin and I play Camp Swift tonight and tomorrow. I got your letter here. I got one from Betty that said they couldn’t get Nelson Eddy for “The Climax” and they are trying to get MGM to arrange it’s schedule on “Dragon Seed” so they can get Turhan Bye in Eddy’s part. Isn’t that amazing? I know dad isn’t interested but I thought you kids might be. Well---I’m going to close---I’ll try to write you a short note before I come home. We go to San Marcos from here then to Randolph--the home.

Lots of love Suzy P.S. Lois sends her best.

Matchbox