Dear Folks:

Rather quiet this Sunday afternoon so I better grab hold of myself and get a few letters written.  A few minutes ago I just returned from church services in the mess tent.  The first we have had in three weeks due to the situation.

It is continuing (to) dry and today it is very warm but a slight breeze is blowing that makes it cool in the shade.  Mosquitoes are bad at night but of course we all have nets and take Atabrine to curb malaria.  Also planes spray the island often and it keeps the flies down to a minimum.  They come soaring over very low letting out a white trail of insecticide.

Well, the Japs are now very compressed on the southern end of the island and I hear we have only about a mile to go – should be over in a couple of days.  Our artillery has been sitting up a constant barrage.  I suppose the Japs are about gone nuts now.  Our sleeping tent is setting upwind of one of our gun batteries and every time they fire, the smoke blows down right over us, and it smells exactly like rotten egg gas, but we get used to it.

I’m still very fine and comparatively safe and little excitement has happened for me.  All I’m afraid of is a Jap sneaking in at night, but we are well protected, so that isn’t much of a threat, just a possibility.  About a week ago two of them tried to slip in the motor pool but the boys spotted them and fired at them.  But they got away and before leaving dropped their packs, both full of grenades.

Just a second ago a guy brought me two letters, one from Dad and from Nancy.  Nancy says she doubts if it rains as hard here as at home – well 13 inches in a week is a lot.  Never saw it rain that much in Nebraska.

Now that things appear to be loosening up on getting home, I’m getting impatient.  Between you and me I figure I’ll hit the September or October quota, but don’t bank too heavily on it.  I just cannot imagine myself back with you and enjoying myself at home and being completely independent, at least for a while.  But I feel certain I will see you this year and not as Nancy says, by the time she graduates – that’s much too far away.

No, I never get enough of your letters, dad as you say, to the contrary. I’m always watching the mail orderly and it’s very seldom I walk away from a mail call without anything.  You do a good job of writing and I know it’s a big job writing to three of us but I hope soon that it will be cut to two, by me getting home.

Love,