Spitball Army

[V-mail addressed to Mrs. Richard N., Berwyn, Illinois. Return addressed to Richard N., c/o Fleet Post Off. Envelope postmarked 27 June 1944 at 11 a.m.]

June 19, 1944

My Darling,

How are you, sweet – good I am, too. I am not such a happy lad today because the mail man, him didn’t bring me any happy tickets from you and I have no letter to answer. Let’s see now what I can tell you. Oh yes, the girl that brings the ward flowers brought us some fresh lettuce and Spanish onions along with her flowers. And does it go good because you see we can’t get anything like that way over here, the space is needed for more important munitions of war. Now we are all having lots of fun going around blowing our stinking breaths in each others’ faces, knocking each other out. The nice part of it is we are all equally armed, you know. I wish you could smell this ward, it smells like Maxwell Street, if you know what I mean. And so another day goes by, bringing me closer to the much awaited time when I can hold you in my arms and kiss you till you are breathless.

All my love forever
Dick