Calvin must have had time on his hands and plenty of talent in writing and sketching before he sent this story/poem and note to HH in 1946. According to military records he served as a stenographer during WW2. Sobe was a US air field in Okinawa, Japan.
The note at the end to HH is transcribed first, then each page of the Gulliver Smith saga.
Naha [capital city of the Japanese prefecture], Okinawa
8 Sept. 46
Dear H.H. ––
Just a line or two to tell you that I'll soon be coming home. Give me a couple more days and I'll be on the ship – I hope! It's lying in the harbor now.
Hope everything's hunky dory with you & your family. Give them my regards. I'll be seeing you.
Sincerely, Calvin
The Tale of Gulliver Smith
The day is bright and shining, but Gulliver Smith is sad;
Let others be gay and happy! Let others be carefree and glad!
But Gulliver can't make merry, for the fickle-minded Fates
Have turned him into a soldier, and behind him are the States.
Ah, yes, our hero gazes across the briny blue,
But his heart isn't filled with its beauty ---- his stomach is filled with stew!!
Now Gulliver isn't a
sailor, he's a
soldier (see above),
And stew, as far as food goes, is far from his first-love.
So let us take leave of Gulliver, for Sympathy's of no avail
As he scurries across the fan-tail and dizzily clutches the rail . . . . . . .
CURTAIN
"Old Salt" is what they call him, for now he's quite at home
On the "Island Mail", in which he sailed, last week for "parts unknown."
"'Twenty-seven April, '45", wrote the Captain in his log;
And out on deck our hero stood a-gazing through the fog.
But "fog" was just to make it rhyme, for Oahu's never
foggy,
Although 'tis a well-known 'stablished fact, Oahuans are often
soggy.
The Thirteenth Repple Depple holds mem'mries better lost
Of insects, rain, and back-aches for this lad who "came acrost."
But one fine day (between showers), in the merry month of May,
A recon car came rolling up and hauled our Gull'ver away.
Through fields of green pineapples, along the shore of the sea,
Rode our hero-timber Gulliver -- "G. Smith, P-V-T."
"Three five eight eight six eight, nine eight reporting, sirp!"
And Gulliver became a member of the Five Twenty-Nine QM Grp.
The boxes were packed and ready, duffel bags filled to the brim
When one sad day the "Marathon," 'PA 200, pulled in.
the Tenth of June dawned early, and the Pali rose so clear
As the line of jeeps and three-quarter tons wound its way to the pier.
Goody-bye to the pineapple fields, goodbye to Waikiki,
And Gulliver Smith (our hero, you know), a heavy heart has he.
But the western horizon beckons, so "Westward Ho" says he,
"We'll sail on and on and onward, and see what we shall see!"
To Mog Mog came he sailing, and passed
Ulithi, too,
And fin'lly on 14/7 viewed the
Wan Nakagusuku.
Now Gulliver's heart was pounding, and Gulliver's eyes were bright,
For the Isle of Okinawa was a
very welcome sight.
So over the side went Gulliver, and down the net went he,
And over this last bit of water, to say "Goodbye" to the sea.
The night was well upon him as Gulliver sped to Sobe,
And for all that he could tell, he might have been in the Gobi.
But, no, 'twas Okinawa (for that he took their word),
And so 'twould be for one more year, and two months more, I've heard.
But Sobe was provincial, a tiny town, you see,
So our tribe moved, bag and baggage, down to the big city.
'Way down to Naha went they, and Gulliver 'mongst them all,
But by this time, the scene has changed and now it's early fall.
And fall is not just fall, when you live in this here ghotto;
For along with fall comes typhoon-time, and that you can't forget-o!
Ad so it was that Gulliver, that old "war-weary" gent
Spent the night of ten October a-holding down his tent.
But let us once more change, the scene of this fine tale
And focus our attention on a ship about to sail.
The place is Haha Harbor, the time, September 8,
the pier is full of people, who have gathered there to wait.
For, lying calm and peaceful in the bright September sun,
Is our ship, the good "Sea Runner," getting ready now to "run."
The wild-eyed "okinawans," those chair-borne men of war,
Begin to stagger 'board the shp; they're on ---- but here's one more!
A cloud of dust arises, and coming down the hill,
We see our old friend Gulliver, an "Okinawar" still.
But not for long, it seems, for aboard we see him climb,
With a smile that goes from ear to ear, of happiness sublime.
So now my tale is ended, and my story has been told,
For when this letter reaches you, I'll be near that Gate of Gold.
THE END
