I got a “bang on the squash”... Writing from the infirmary, he's got a hit on the head that requires a couple of stitches. Sounds like a wonderful break to just rest up. Sounds like they're meeting up tomorrow - so no letters for the next few
Makes you run around madly accomplishing nothing for a few minutes. Truly, he does not have it so bad. Fellows are probably getting shipped out all the time but Dad remains. Hiding in the barracks and sleeping through the bugle. Battle alerts sound terrifying - did you know how close the
They have all kinds of peculiar ideas. Seems like they should get that field worked on. It wouldn't do to have soldiers out of commission because of softball injuries. "How'd you get wounded soldier?" "Stealing second base!" Wisdom teeth woes continue. It
I got about 12 different rides... No, that is not a good joke. Imagine if this guy actually tried to find Mom. At least she's in on the joke and can explain that Dad thinks he's funny - ha ha. It's always an exhausting adventure
The Army is absorbing me and I am beginning to accept it. Yes, I found the songs. They are swinging! Dad is one hip and groovy guy. Be forewarned he will use such language as "phooey" and "rubbish" to describe this war but it's
In fact, I don’t see why you save all those letters anyway. Yes, she is saving these letters so one day she can climb to the attic and relive the romance. Well, not exactly. She saves them in ever growing bins and finally has me sort and organize into
I shall proceed now to bawl you out. I don't know if that's gold bricking. Maybe lollygagging. He gets a pass this weekend but he will go ahead and wag a finger in this letter. Guess that means his jaw is improving. I wish I knew
All you had to do was turn around to work up a sweat. You kinda know what he's going through if you've ever had a wisdom tooth removed. Now imagine it's 1942. Ouch! I really feel for him. Many men were rejected for service
Of course as usual I am painting a very bad picture of your husband. Oh I would love to see a picture of her new haircut. She must have figured out the gas problem - damn rationing. But let's talk about wisdom teeth. Like one day you just decide
If I were a poet... A nice quite Sunday for a poet to set out some thoughts regarding guard duty at night. Regarding the crying sounds of gulls. Regarding the cold and waiting for the sun. If it's this cold in July, what is he going to do
I should have had a masterpiece worked out. Kangaroo! Not sure why his barracks has so few "fellows". It's funny how he mentions sharing his masterpiece through generations and here I am sharing with generations. And yes, she was the only one who laughed at his
You are my weather vane. While it says July 9, it has to be for July 10th so here we go. He's a good soldier. Or trying to be. I don't understand his math but it looks like the raise in soldier's pay is
We still have it easy compared with them. The last letter was Sunday July 5th so there must have been a pass because here we are at Thursday. He describes his journey back. He describes his dream but kitchen duty is doggy... Original Letter Transcript follows. Transcript - July 9, 1942
They used to call me ‘Fleety”. Reading between the lines, he left without a pass to hang out with Mom for mashed potatoes? So when you don't have a pass you can change with a typewriter, just walk back in like you own the place. He's
No letter today. But what's more patriotic than the Boston, Massachusetts Daily Globe. And bombs. Most folks in the defense industry, like Mom, are mostly working over the holiday but people with means head to the beach. Blackouts continue so it's a quiet 4th this year.
Anyone that would tell a story like that deserves to be in the Army. So the pass is Tuesday not Wednesday. She's joking around. And he's shooting his mouth off - lol. Just FYI - In 1942, our country is 166 years old. And it's at
Are you still saving these letters. Potato bag? He's in fine form. He's stuck until next Wednesday and she's probably working over the weekend. A simple picnic would be the most celebrating appropriate when there's a war raging. Not big lavish events.
Wow! What did I tell you. I’m going stir-crazy. This letter includes rig-a-ma-role. You are forewarned. Note: he is at Fort Ruckman, not Banks. The 4th of July weekend is coming up but there won't be any major celebrations. It'll be
July kicks off with celebrations for the fourth but not like before. The war has really put a damper on life as dim-outs and rationing continues. Permanent gas rationing rules will set the limit at 4 gallons this month. And now even bicycles will be rationed. Dad’s not
We had to sing “Now and then I get that old peeling” to keep our spirits up. It has been a while since he's written, Last letter was June 24. The raise that was promised has yet to come. And don't get him started on passes.
I fell asleep sitting on a rock around one o’clock last nite. They're not assigned bunks? That seems wrong. Anyway, if there's no place to sleep, he might as well keep writing. It's a quiz letter. And a book club. Darn the mostly
I feel amiable towards everyone tonight. There must have been an optical delay since he mentions getting his glasses just yesterday. He just up and leaves. Then hangs out with Ralph and Elsie. They must be friends he knows in Boston. What a life. He's just so lucky
I don’t think we will be here long enough. Sounds like the plan to meet yesterday was successful but I don't think he got his glasses. We'll have to see what's up with that. It's now Sunday afternoon. He's
A sense of humor is must here. He's fairly sure about his pass Saturday morning but now he's not sure about Mom being there. Throw that typewriter in the back seat. The next letter is Sunday so hopefully, we get updates. Meanwhile, there you are, just
