Spitball Army

This morning I arose at 9:30 after a good night’s sleep and took Dad, Mom, Aunt, Uncle and kids for a ride.

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I must tell you about the moon out here at this time, and what is more, let you know how mad I am watching it go to waste.

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A 1944 South Seas Christmas brings gifts of beer, cigars and spearmint Wrigley’s. The soldiers celebrate with an Aqua Velva toast.

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The day you asked me that certain query (Will Ya Marry Me?), I used good SCENTS and said “Yes, dearie.”

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I love you Sweetheart. Stick around. I’ll be home one of these days.

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I hope you will be able to get that Plymouth you mentioned. Anything – just so it is a NEW car with a “roll back” top.

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Waiting to get my hands on you. When I do, I’ll literally squeeze the love right out of you.

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The Record Office called me up Monday and asked me a couple of questions so I know they haven’t forgotten me and they are at least doing something.

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We’re going bowling this afternoon. I’m on the ward team this week. We (the 43 Cripples) are bowling “The 102 Plastics.”

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I would still like to see some of New York and Niagara Falls. We could arrange it if you would come up here.

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