438th AAA AW BN
Near the Hyannis Airport
Wed. Sept 1, 1943 6:05pm
Great Balls of Fire, Wilma!
I don’t know what I can write that will be coherent, dear – but I’ll try. What a past 2 days! I honestly didn’t think I would write tonite, but I was so pleasantly surprised by your thoughtful letter, I had to make an attempt. If I can make myself stable for a minute dear, I really do appreciate your writing me as often as you do. Perhaps I should tell you more directly, but I think you must gather that I do like to hear from you and the oftener the better.
Now all seriousness aside, my one, I wish you were here tonite. (I better direct this along another line.) All right, a fresh start: I’ll explain myself. You remember I wrote you about an experiment we were going to do; well – I did it. From Monday morning on we (the men and I) have been marching, digging and getting fatigued. We moved out of our area at 2300 (11pm) Tues. nite & proceeded here. We then dug in our medical tent and got thru at 3 a.m. We then took 10 mgs of Benzedrine and then I went to visit some of the batteries in the field (a battery is like a company of men) to see the reactions of some of the men who took the same dose. At 6:30 a.m. I returned to the C.P. (Command Post) and felt fine. At 9 a.m. we took another dose, made further visits for reactions. The interesting thing was that I was reacting too. A third – and final dose was taken at 3 p.m. Well, to put it mildly, I began to feel higher than a kite in the Alps. The lack of sleep didn’t bother me at all and right now I’m as sassy as a wood-chuck.
I’ll have to read the above over to see if it’s at all chronological. It’s an effort to concentrate and yet amazing how alert I feel despite physical labor & no sleep. I’m not even yawning. (Remember?) The sensation is best described as “swimming” and has nothing at all to do with water. “Swimming” – as when a fellow falls for a girl, for example; “swimming” – as in giddy, “swimming” – any old way, but always “swimming”.
Talk about rambling, – dear your letters are all fresh and spontaneous to me and I like them that way – probably because that’s the style I unconsciously use.
To prove my point, I’ll jump to another subject. I was sorry to hear about Stan and I hope you found him better when you called. He must be ‘run down’ – to use the vernacular; he’s been staying out late nights, and I guess he should rest more. I’ll have to give him a little professional advice.
Yes I did see “Night Must Fall” – a couple of years ago. It was a very well done picture as I recall it, and Bea with the two “G’s” must have talent to play the part she did. Send her my best wishes, by the way.
Tomorrow a couple of generals will visit us, and Friday, too. We move back Friday and Saturday, God-willing, I’ll head for Boston and –
Dammit (that’s legal) – I’m sobering up dear. I started out to write an entirely congruous letter, and I’ll bet it’s only incongruous. By the way – if you want to use meagre – well use it, see? Never mind Webster. Coin your own words, for that matter. That’s good fun. I often do it, and it’s nice and confusing.
You made no mention of hearing from me, dear – and I assume that’s because you weren’t home very much. I find myself, too, writing rather often, but unlike you – I like to write – to certain people. Steady now, boy! Steady now!
The thought of your leaving Boston, Wilma – is unpleasant. I’ve gotten to know you and like you a great deal, dear – these past weeks. Sic transit gloria mundi – what a pundit I am – or do I know what I’m saying? Truth of the matter is that I’ll miss you and will certainly look forward to seeing you as often as I can while I’m still around. And did I answer you the other nite when you asked whether going away meant getting out of touch? I hope not, and with the slightest encouragement (more – will be welcome) I shall certainly try to let you know where I go and what I think.
And so saying, the cow fell in the bucket, beside his chieftain lying. Kiss my blues away, if it wouldn’t be nice having you near me tonite! Seems like I ended in the same vein as when I started – which just goes to show that if you buy from the maker, you save the middle-man’s profit.
Bear with me, dear – part of it is due to the Benzedrine – but I feel the same way about things without it, I guess.
I hope you have a pleasant week and for a short while more – good night & so-long, dear. I’ll call you when I reach Boston –
I don’t know what I can write that will be coherent, dear – but I’ll try. What a past 2 days! I honestly didn’t think I would write tonite, but I was so pleasantly surprised by your thoughtful letter, I had to make an attempt. If I can make myself stable for a minute dear, I really do appreciate your writing me as often as you do. Perhaps I should tell you more directly, but I think you must gather that I do like to hear from you and the oftener the better.
Now all seriousness aside, my one, I wish you were here tonite. (I better direct this along another line.) All right, a fresh start: I’ll explain myself. You remember I wrote you about an experiment we were going to do; well – I did it. From Monday morning on we (the men and I) have been marching, digging and getting fatigued. We moved out of our area at 2300 (11pm) Tues. nite & proceeded here. We then dug in our medical tent and got thru at 3 a.m. We then took 10 mgs of Benzedrine and then I went to visit some of the batteries in the field (a battery is like a company of men) to see the reactions of some of the men who took the same dose. At 6:30 a.m. I returned to the C.P. (Command Post) and felt fine. At 9 a.m. we took another dose, made further visits for reactions. The interesting thing was that I was reacting too. A third – and final dose was taken at 3 p.m. Well, to put it mildly, I began to feel higher than a kite in the Alps. The lack of sleep didn’t bother me at all and right now I’m as sassy as a wood-chuck.
I’ll have to read the above over to see if it’s at all chronological. It’s an effort to concentrate and yet amazing how alert I feel despite physical labor & no sleep. I’m not even yawning. (Remember?) The sensation is best described as “swimming” and has nothing at all to do with water. “Swimming” – as when a fellow falls for a girl, for example; “swimming” – as in giddy, “swimming” – any old way, but always “swimming”.
Talk about rambling, – dear your letters are all fresh and spontaneous to me and I like them that way – probably because that’s the style I unconsciously use.
To prove my point, I’ll jump to another subject. I was sorry to hear about Stan and I hope you found him better when you called. He must be ‘run down’ – to use the vernacular; he’s been staying out late nights, and I guess he should rest more. I’ll have to give him a little professional advice.
Yes I did see “Night Must Fall” – a couple of years ago. It was a very well done picture as I recall it, and Bea with the two “G’s” must have talent to play the part she did. Send her my best wishes, by the way.
Tomorrow a couple of generals will visit us, and Friday, too. We move back Friday and Saturday, God-willing, I’ll head for Boston and –
Dammit (that’s legal) – I’m sobering up dear. I started out to write an entirely congruous letter, and I’ll bet it’s only incongruous. By the way – if you want to use meagre – well use it, see? Never mind Webster. Coin your own words, for that matter. That’s good fun. I often do it, and it’s nice and confusing.
You made no mention of hearing from me, dear – and I assume that’s because you weren’t home very much. I find myself, too, writing rather often, but unlike you – I like to write – to certain people. Steady now, boy! Steady now!
The thought of your leaving Boston, Wilma – is unpleasant. I’ve gotten to know you and like you a great deal, dear – these past weeks. Sic transit gloria mundi – what a pundit I am – or do I know what I’m saying? Truth of the matter is that I’ll miss you and will certainly look forward to seeing you as often as I can while I’m still around. And did I answer you the other nite when you asked whether going away meant getting out of touch? I hope not, and with the slightest encouragement (more – will be welcome) I shall certainly try to let you know where I go and what I think.
And so saying, the cow fell in the bucket, beside his chieftain lying. Kiss my blues away, if it wouldn’t be nice having you near me tonite! Seems like I ended in the same vein as when I started – which just goes to show that if you buy from the maker, you save the middle-man’s profit.
Bear with me, dear – part of it is due to the Benzedrine – but I feel the same way about things without it, I guess.
I hope you have a pleasant week and for a short while more – good night & so-long, dear. I’ll call you when I reach Boston –
Love
Greg
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