[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 Jun 1945. Envelope stamped on front, “Passed by Naval Censor,” and initialed by the Censor.]
June 19, 1945
No, I’m not in the Navy [in reference to the stationery]. I just can’t be choosy. I have 2 choices – this or a type of tissue paper that comes in rolls. It would be too hard to unroll the other so I’ll use this.
Well, I thought I would be away from here by now but no soap. I expect to leave any time and I’m more than ready. Maybe tomorrow is my day. I’ll get there yet. One of these days, you are going to answer the telephone and find me on the other end of the line. Yep, I’m coming back to you whether you like it or not. Believe me, you better like it. Is that clear? While we’re asking questions – did you know that I’m very much in love with you? Well, I do love you Sweetheart. You are all I’m interested in – all I want.
Sorry Sweetheart, I had to leave you for awhile. I can only sit up so long at a time. It doesn’t bother my shoulder any but it sure gets my left hip. The cast is pretty heavy as it is and with the added weight of my left arm, it really cuts in. Naturally it rests on a bone which doesn’t help matters at all.
You know, I thought I was pretty good when it came to a matter of patience. After all the waiting and standing in line I’ve done since I’ve been in the outfit, I’ve seen anything quite like this. I’m really beginning to lose all my patience. I know I have quite a wait ahead of me before I get out of the hospital but I can’t see why I have to spend that time out hear. I feel sure I’m coming back to the States before the thing heals up so why can’t I put in my time back there where I’ll be able to see you occassionally? It has been exactly 3 weeks ago today since I got hit and just what has been accomplished. The day I got hit I had an X-ray taken, an operation to clean up the wound, and a cast put on. Approximately one week later I got another cast put on. Now, in the week I’ve been in this hospital, I’ve had one x-ray taken. The rest of the time I’ve just been waiting. The Doctor comes around every day and asks you how you feel. The answer is always the same – “O.K.” or “Pretty good.” That’s my treatment. Whereas before – in stead of training they made us mad enough to fight. Now I guess they are trying to make us mad enough to get well.
I feel better now after doing my griping and getting it out of my system. I should tear this up now and write a decent letter but I went to all this trouble so I’m going to mail it anyway. Now – all I need to fix everything up just fine is for the censor to reject or cut this all out.
Darn it, this makes me very unhappy. This isn’t the type of letter I want to write Sweetheart. When I’m laying in bed I can think of a lot of things I want to write and tell you. Then I get up and try to write what I’ve been thinking. I can’t keep my mind on what I want to write though. I unconsciously think of this cast cutting into my hip; and then when I do get something to write, I can’t put it down as I want it. It just doesn’t turn out right. It seems I consentrate more on my writing than the contents. I’ve almost forgotten how to write anyway and now it is more difficult than it ordinarily should be. I hope you can decipher these scratches. After it gets cold, I can hardly make it out myself. I keep trying though. Who knows, some day I may learn to write. I haven’t lost hopes yet.
I can’t seem to say what I want to. It looks like I’ll have to fall back on these 3 little words. They tell the whole story though – short and sweet. I love you, Sweetheart.
Don’t worry about me Sweetheart. You know I’m getting along pretty good when I start griping. That’s the best sign there is. I’m doing O.K., Sweetheart. As usual, I’m just waiting – – —
I love you with all my heart