Dear Folks:
It’s getting pretty late and my vision has been reduced to almost zero from doing a lot of paperwork today but not enough so that I can’t still pound you out a letter. Just wrote about three tonight. I’m official mail orderly now and I am treated like a coddled child by doting parents. I am the only one who can handle it. Starting to get a little strict about it.
Well I went thru all the physical examinations okay so I guess I’m ready for anything. I was glad to hear the doctor say my teeth were sound. He prodded and hit around but said all fillings were okay. Have extra glasses ordered and today was requisitioned for much new equipment. Man they throw out anything if there is even a little defect in it.
Guess maybe I better fish out your letter and see what you said so we can get together on who wants to (do) what about what. I’d like to have been there to round out your happiness and made it a complete circle but the army holds the compass now. Daily or almost I have been writing in a little book about small things I think will hold the greatest enjoyment when Tojo goes down with the Sun. It’s an account of how I feel, thimble sized scribblings on peculiar or outstanding fellows in the outfit, what I think about, and what I look forward to and in general a complete account of the battery and what I think of it. It would be most revealing if anyone should read it. I want to keep it up and perhaps later group it into a more logical and chronological account. If we see action I should have plenty of opportunity for lengthy episodes.
In my letter to Dick I tried to impress upon him the privilege of going to college and I hope he won’t let me down. I know he has the stuff, odd as he may seem and I’m banking on him. I would have liked to have sat in on the bull session of Glen & Kate’s and exercised my belly a little on the reminiscin’ too. About the crests, or buttons, they are or were the official insignia of the battalion. Lately these were abolished for a newer design. The three items in the corner signify a war but I can’t think of them now. Of course the inscription at the bottom is self explanatory. I had three but gave one to the girls in Fort Lewis. We wear one on our cap and two on our blouse—but of course now all identifying marks have been taken away so thought I might as well send them to you. What do I do when I get a hole in my sock? Turn them in for a new pair, but they are good socks. Out of the original issue of six pairs last year, only one has been turned in for new ones. Guess that takes care of the letter.
Last Sunday got a pass so went to Frisco and Oakland but had little fun out of it. Unless you have someone to see on the outside, passes aren’t of much worth. Barrage balloons look like a circus man’s balloon bouquet over ‘Frisco.
There are certainly a lot of visitors that come to see the boys. Sunday cars were lined up like a county fair and people milling around waiting for their guy to come. They have a loudspeaker system that facilitates locating visitors for the soldiers. About a mile away is a little burg ‘bout the size of Mitchell and made up mostly of waps and Spaniards who work in the mills around (there). A few days we signed a slip saying we understood fully the consequences of desertion and AWOL; guess they can’t take any chances now.
I hope you keep up your moral and don’t worry about mine. I’m alright but I do a little worrying about you and know some of the anxiety you must feel but I got the best Uncle in the world taking care of me. Everybody else in the barracks is sleeping and I suspect that I better follow or this typewriter might wake them up. It’s funny the turn of events that take place in a man’s life. I always thought that wars were something that made reading in a history chapter and something apart from actuality, but here I am getting a bonus for working in a human slaughterhouse, with a lot overtime and no danger of being fired. Guess I shouldn’t write this way to you but the whole futility of it all starts me thinking. I could write all night upon it but that’s no good—not now. I don’t want you to worry because one good thing from this mess I will make the Buckingham Palace look like an Arkansas outhouse beside my home and folks. Memories are something man lives by and now and the six biggest all begin with an M.
Guess I’ve said enough tonight—what color do you like in Japanese kimonos?
Love,
