[Written to Alice in Frankfort, Indiana. Return addressed: Richard, Co. G, 2nd Bn., 1st Mar., c/o F.P.O., San Francisco, Calif. Postmarked at U.S. Navy, on 20 Nov 1944, A.M. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]
Nov. 16, 1944
So you think that seven weeks is a long time to go without any word. Well, I can do you two weeks over that. I thought I would never hear from you. I still can’t understand why you haven’t got my pressent address. I won’t worry about that, though, just as long as I hear from you. The address isn’t the part I want to read.
You know, Sweetheart, I almost have to drive myself to write. For the last week, I’ve been writting almost all day here in the office and I don’t even like to pick up my pen. Right now I have to stop every other sentence to keep from getting a cramp in my hand. I’d rather just relax and think about you. That’s what I enjoy most. But, I’ll never get a letter written if I do too much of that. I’ve been doing too much dreaming and not enough writting as it is. I’ll have to cut that out. I know how much your letters mean to me and I rather imagine it works the other way around too.
You asked what to send me. Well, I can tell more about what not to send. That doesn’t help much, does it? I can tell you one thing though. I’d like to have a glass mirror. Do you remember the mirror in my kit? It’s broken and I’d like to have another one on that order. I want one that will stand up. If you can get your hands on one to send me, be sure it packed good enough. I sure would hate to get a broken mirror. Don’t worry about sending me cigarettes. I know how hard they are to get back there. That isn’t a good enough reason for you though, is it? Well, I Let me finish. I can get all the cigarettes I want at 5¢ a pack. I buy them 2 cartons at a time and all the trouble I have is the standing in line at the PX. Oh yes, don’t send me any stationery. The climate is so “wet,” all the envelopes would be stuck tight before I would get to use them. D No doubt you have noticed my other envelopes. You can see that I had to tear them open.
Pardon me while I give long, loud horse laff. Those island females you mentioned, I am yet to see my first one. No natives live on this island.
The Chester I mentioned is my buddy. I never introduced you to him, but I pointed him out in the USO one night. Remember? About the Shellback – it’s just one of those groups consisting of men that have done a certain thing. This is a title held by those that were duly initiated when crossing the equator. The initiation is something like a Frat “Hell Week” compressed into one afternoon. It wasn’t so bad and I had a lot of fun out of it. Now, I hope I’ll get to break in some new members. At the pressent, I can’t figure any way to work it. Everybody here had to cross the equator the same as I did.
Yes, I finally got paid. In fact, here it is. It’s not much for 5 months work, is it? Put it in the bank with the rest of it. You’ll soon be able to get that apartment, won’t you? I can hardly wait till you get moved even if I won’t be there.
Well, here I am again. I didn’t get to finish this last night as you can see. I had to go into the next tent for light and there was too much talking going on. Now I’m back in the same tent using the same lantern and as long as the other guys are writting letters, I should make out all right.
This makes me very unhappy. I want to write you but there are two draw-backs. I don’t feel like writting and I can’t think of anything that I want to say. I doubt if this letter makes any sense; I’m afraid to read it. I quit. – till I fell feel like writting. Then it won’t make me mad.
Good-night Sweetheart – I love you with all my heart. Pleasant Dreams. ‘Nite x x