2nd Excerpt from the personal wartime journal of PFC Max L. Karas, 26th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division:

August 2 1942. continuation of Entry written during the cattle truck ride from Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania to New York City.

Okay, I'm back to journal writing. Boy, it's hot, humid and dusty here in back of this truck, and all those potholes the driver is hitting don't make trying to write any easier.

Swell thing happened a little while ago. Like I said, it's been a long time now in the back of this truck, the initial excitement and chit-chat at the start of the trip is now gone, and the hours have drifted into a pensive silence, for me especially, as I think about where I am and the long journey ahead.

At about this time, Sgt. Lewis spoke up. Like he was issuing and order, he said, "Cpl. Meister! See that duffle back in the corner of the truck? Open it up." Gus went over and did what he was told. None of us had gone near that duffle because we knew it belonged to the sarge. Gus opens it and looks in, right away I see his eyes light up like the Regal Theater stage back home. He pulls out a bunch of sausage and a couple six-packs of beer. He looks back at sarge. Sarge, with just a hint of a smile on his face, just said,
"Pass em' around, Corporal."
Gus did so, and boy having a beer and a sausage hit the spot right then. Sarge took the same share as all of us. He didn't say a lot, but then he didn't have to. We got the message. He seemed to know right when needed this, to boost our spirits. It worked, and got us all talking and feeling like a team again. Someone groused about the quality and temperature of the beer, and I just said, "Hey, when you're in the back of a hot dusty cattle truck, on your way to fight a war, any beer you can get your hands on is good beer." This got a laugh, and we took turns telling jokes and were feeling good again, at least for a little while. Three cheers for Sarge!

Our destination is New York City, but I won't get a chance to see Broadway or a New York Giants game at the Polo Grounds. I hope I can hit those places on my way back home. This truck is headed right to New York Harbor. There we get on a big ship that's going to take us all the way 'over there' as Pop would say. We should be there is another couple days.