Spitball Army

[Letter postmarked on 15 July 1941 at 10 a.m. at Riverside, Illinois.  Addressed to Miss Crystal K., Marshalltown, Iowa, c/o Mrs. P.  Return addressed to Mr. Richard N., Riverside, Illinois.]

July 14

     Up at 8:00, airport at 9:00. I’m putting the finishing touches on, Hon. I’m flying that crate like a bird. My instructor has given me permission to solo tomorrow and I’m just the one to do it. As I have said previously, the thrill will be almost as good as one of your kisses, but they still don’t compare.

     Back to the office and I spent some of the afternoon looking up my new lawn mower. (It finally came.) School this evening and another test – a doozy, too. On the way home, I stopped and met Mack and Chester at the Bonnet and had one glass of beer and then home.

     Oh good, a letter and a card from my honey. I’m glad you enjoyed the rodeo. I know I would have. Why didn’t you pick yourself up one of those cowpunchers? Or did you? I should have been there to show them how to rope a steer and bulldog it – eh, Hon? You may not have been able to travel fast but the scenery was pretty. Being as how you like storms, you should be having fun. Give my regards to your folks and say hello for mine, please. Tell your mother to take care of that cold. Honey, that week will never pass for me.

     Well, Hon, I think I kept a pretty good account of myself, don’t you? I tried to make the letter worth waiting for. I haven’t much else to say except take good care of yourself. Nothing to ask except think of me. Have you kept your promise, honey? I hope you have. I have, never once over 50 M.P.H. I will close by saying, I love you, Honey, and hope you still love me, too.

     Your own, Richard
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