Sept. 11, 1942 - Dear Audrey

Jan Palson

11 Sep 2026 — 7 min read

Front page - The Lynn Daily Evening Item. Read more and support this work: Newspapers.com

You are good and bad medicine for me.

Waxing poetic is teetering toward R rated territory. That is a perfect way to start a letter. Or end a letter with the trailer tipping. Give those romance magazines a run for their money. But get to the epic saga of returning to Fort Ruckman. It's a blow-by-blow. Including the new stretch of cement to cut off Stafford and save some time on the trips back and forth. Be careful, it's tricky. And Mom is absolutely not a "homely old hag". How dare he.

Original Letter

Transcript follows.

Transcript

For some context, War Updates follow the transcript. It includes the front pages of The Daily Evening Item from Lynn, Massachusetts (local to Fort Ruckman) and Mom's local Connecticut paper the Hartford Courant for additional news, plus the Women's Page so you're up on the latest recipes and styles, especially hats!

Research, learn, and support this work. Go to: Newspapers.com

September 11, 1942

Bat H - 9^th C.A., Fort Ruckman

Dear Audrey:

Here is your next Saturday’s letter. After this you probably won’t get a letter until Thanksgiving. I can’t be writing you every day. If I write every day, you’ll begin to think I’m in love with you and take me for granted. Naturally I’m not foolish enough to fall in love with you. You are a homely old hag. What is it that you have that interests me? Must be your feet. They are nice and warm in bed. At least they were the other day (or night) but may be that was only one night. I don’t sleep with you enough to tell whether they are nice and warm every night. Now that I think of it, I don’t see how a pair of feet can drive a man crazy. Must be something else. Must be you. Must be that I am so much in love with you that I don’t know what to do. I think I’ll look around for one of those Love Story magazines so I can get a line on how to tell your wife how much in love with her you are. I just can’t keep saying I love you the same way all the time. Either that or thrash around in my amateurish way. Then too the magazines are time-tested, proven, and guaranteed or your money back. My pitiful attempts would go something like this. Of course, I want you to realize that this is purely impromptu and spontaneous. (I was going to start with your legs and say that their creamy whiteness was like fresh milk, but that crude and vulgarism is out)

When I dance with you it is like floating on a cloud with Aladdin’s lamp under my arm. Everything is perfect. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I should get eloquent here but I’m stuck. All I can say is that your hair is nice and I like blue eyes very much. And your lips I could kiss forever. They were meant to be kissed. Compare all that with the store-boughten, fancy lingo of a Love Story Magazine writer and I take a back seat. To quote: Her hair was like golden luxuriant fleece, her eyes cool dark limpid pools and her lips red rose petals. How can I compete against stuff like that? The other lad just came for his pen so I’ll have to use the old green ink. The blue ink was for a change. Of course I could go on with little peculiarities that the Fancy Dan would know anything about. I could say that when my wife snuggles up to me it is such a wonderful feeling that no one could describe. Or I could also say that when I slop up beer with my girl in some joint I could lick the world. Either way or any how I end up saying I am madly in love with you. I better stop at this point before I get myself so involved that I will have to start a new letter. As you know, I got back to camp all right but I didn’t tell you about my troubles. The following is a blow by blow account of my running engagement with the guards. Despite a heavy fog and a misty rain I got up here in about four hours and then came the problem of getting in. I swung up to the gate and started the story I’d prepared for the guard.

I missed the train – had a flat tire – got on the wrong road and had to drive like h-ll to get here when I did. I wanted to get in but I didn’t want him to take my pass and turn it in. I figured at this early time in the morning he would turn his back and say go ahead. But would he? He would not. That left me in a fix. I didn’t know whether to give him the pass and see if the office picks me up on it or try to figure some way out. I had an idea things would work out if given a chance but this is not always a good policy because sometimes you will get yourself in deeper. Well I drove the car up the side road in back of the office and parked it. Then I jumped the fence carrying my blouse and rain coat and so as usual the rain coat stuck on the barbed-wire and I had to climb back and free it. I made quite a bit of noise but I got in all right. Then I got up at eight o’clock, sneaked out and drove the car in thru the gate by the mess hall. The gate where we were talking with Al and his wife. It was raining and the guard was in having coffee so it was as easy as it sounds. So things worked out all right so far. As far as I know I’m in the clear but maybe I didn’t get away with it. I won’t feel right about it for a few days. I got your letter yesterday and like it very much. I also got an invitation to the wedding reception at Gilbert St. (that is where Aunt Bee lives). I still want you to do as you like about a gift. I went over the new stretch of cement road and it was very good. You cut off all of Stafford Springs and save quite a bit of time. It is straight and the hills weren’t bad. It is kind of hard coming up to find your way on to it if you don’t know where to look but going down you just stay on the cement until the end and then bear right and you come out all right.

I hope Vicky didn’t think the trailer was going to tip over the other night before I left. I thought I could kiss you and say ‘so long” and leave but I couldn’t. You are good and bad medicine for me. You are enough to drive a man to drink and it’s a good thing I’m not a man. (I was going to say it is good thing I don’t drink). I had a couple of other things I was going to write to you about but they have slipped me. Well, I’ll close now. I didn’t exactly mean that about you being a “homely old hag”. You really aren’t very old, are you? It would be like trying to stroke a lion now to say “I am madly in love with you” but I’ll say it anyway. You are my girl and no one else’s.

Lots of love

To you from me

War Updates

The Lynn Daily Evening Item

Read more about it and support this work: Newspapers.com

Meanwhile in Hartford...

Even in 1942, Republicans are demanding total victory. No bribes to voters though. And here comes nationwide gas rationing.

The Women's Page for Mom

You'll notice in the ads that there's no ground beef for sale. It's in very short supply due to the war. Along with everything else rationed or just not available.