[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 23 Nov 1944, A.M. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]
Nov. 21, 1944
Well, Sweetheart, I’ve got some spare time here in the office so I thought I’d try to write you a short letter. There isn’t any news to tell you and I can’t talk about the training we are getting. Maybe I shouldn’t say “we.” I’m not in on much of it. I spend the majority of my time around the office answering the telephone.
You know, you had me worried there for a while because I didn’t hear from you. I, at times, almost let my imagination run away with me. It seems to me that my address should have gotten to you sooner than it did. I still can’t understand why you don’t have my pressent address. Maybe you have by now. It was rather bad until I got your first letter. I didn’t know whether you got back from California all right or not. And if you did, what was wrong at home. The mails shouldn’t have been so slow. Everything is all right now though. I could stand to read a lot more mail, but all I’m interested in is hearing from you Sweetheart. I love you with all my heart. Do you remember that little card you sent me while I was at Pendleton? I got that out last night and read it over a couple of times. The little note you wrote on the back and the card itself are about the nicest things you have ever given me. I’m going to keep that with me so I can read it whenever something needs to be done to keep my morale. I love you Sweetheart.
Is it ever hot today! The sun isn’t shinning shining much, but it is very sultry. It rained some last night but that doesn’t help a bit right now. Think nothing of it if there are any blotches of on the letter. I’ve been lucky so far; but the way the sweat is dripping off my forehead, I don’t think my luck will last.
It’s time to go to chow (11:45), so I’ll quit for now. See you later on today. I love you, Sweetheart.
Well, Sweetheart, I’m back with you again. The paper and pen are different than from what I started out with, but it’s the best I can do at the present. Right now I’m watching the property tent for my buddy. I came down to see him; he had some business to take care of; he needed someone to watch the tent, so here I am. – What a sentence that was. Even if it wasn’t exactly grammatically correct, I think you can understand what I mean. That reminds me of your old boy friend, but for the life of me, I can’t think of his name. You know who I’m talking about. He taught “Mr. Bell’s Book” and it was under him that you became such an excellent English student. What was his name, anyway? Do you think you’ll ever get tired of my kidding you about that? I’m afraid that will be one of many things that I will never forget.
There are a lot of things I’ll never forget, Sweetheart, a lot of happy and a lot of sad times we spent together. I’ve loved you ever since that Monday. Do you remember the song? You should. You wouldn’t let me make the song come true. I tried, – you wanted to, – you were devilish and a little stubborn, – so, I didn’t. Thursday at a quarter to ten. – — Then that night when you got out of bed to go out with me. You’d been sick all the week before and I thought you were putting me off. But, you went out with me and then you were really sick. That was when I first knew that you cared for me. —- I have to laff to myself every time I think about the night I first met your folks. You didn’t want to go because they weren’t expecting us. You were afraid the house would be in a mess and that they would be too. All you did during the ride to your house was apologize for the house, your folks, and especially how your Dad would act. Then you just sat with your mouth open trying to get a word into your Dad’s and my conversation. You sure got a surprise, didn’t you? We had a lot of fun Sweetheart, but that was just the beginning. When I get back, our happiness can really start. Oh, Sweetheart, I wish we could be together the way we should. It isn’t right that you should be at home and me so far away. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until the war is over. The way things look, I’ll be here, or over-seas, until the last shot is fired against those Sons of Heaven. That’s not what I really call them, but you had better confine your remarks to something on that order. That is strong enough and we know what each other thinks along that line.
Here I am back again with my own pen. Since I wrote the last paragraph, I’ve been to chow and a show. The chow wasn’t so good but it was a darn good picture. The picture was “I Dood It” with Red Skeleton [‘Skeleton’ scribbled messily]. You know who it is even if you can’t read it [draws arrow to ‘Skeleton’]. I laughed till my sides ached in some parts. In other parts, all I could do was think of you. I love you, Sweetheart. If I could see you now, I would be the happiest guy in the world. I don’t know why I’m in this mood today; I guess I’ve had too much time to think. I don’t exactly mean that. There’s is nothing I would rather do than think of you, Sweetheart. That’s what I do from the time I crawl under my mosquito net until I go to sleep. The more I think, the less sleepy I get. Then the more awake I am, the more I think. It just goes around in a circle till I get so tired I fall asleep. Then, if I’m lucky, I dream about you. It makes me very unhappy if I don’t dream about you every night. But, I don’t know of anything I can do about it. I had two dreams last night. It makes me mad though. I can only remember one of them and it’s the wrong one. I know that I had the crazy one, woke up, then I had a nice one about you. NATURALLY, I remember the crazy one. That’s what makes me mad. I can tell you about the other one. It seems that I was out in the bay swimming and an octopus wrapped a tenticle around my legs. I didn’t know whether to fight it or just stay as still as I could. While I was trying to decide, I woke up and found my cover wrapped around my legs. It’s just 10 minutes until taps so
I love you with all my heart.
[written along side of page]
I just happened to think. Dick, my buddy, put the stamp on my envelope and I’m to tell you to hold it to the light.
Trailer for I Dood It (1943):