438th AAA AW BN
Wellfleet, Mass
Sept 7, 1943 1915
Dear Girl -
I got your very sweet letter this p.m. and enjoyed it very much. It was considerate and thoughtful, and I like that.
It’s a little after 7 in the evening and darkness is settling fast down here on the beach. I’m in the Medical tent, one of the boys has just lighted the lamp, our banjoist is strumming hill-billy songs – and all in all I’m in a rather sentimental mood myself. I’ve been thinking all day about the past two months and how a seemingly gloomy summer turned out to be a very enjoyable one for me; I’ve been thinking how each week I’ve looked forward to the coming week-end with great zest and expectation; and today I couldn’t help but feel that the coming week-end would be a rather empty one with you not in Boston. But your leaving town doesn’t mean my losing contact with you, dear, and that’s a consolation.
Your concern about my health is very sweet. I guess a fellow likes nothing better than to know someone cares how he is – particularly if that someone is the right kind of girl. I really am cured of illness sans any particular treatment except rest and sleep. I got to my tent about 9:30 p.m. and a short time later I was fast asleep. Tonight I’ll go to sleep equally early and I’ll be a rip snortin’ soldier by morning.
Due to some general inspection of equipment by an Inspector General on Thursday morning, it seems that whether we’re thru firing or not, we will move back late Wednesday night. This should be our last trip out to this place and I won’t be particularly sorry.
I almost forgot to mention the subject of socks, darn it. What made you think about that, dear? Of course you know I’d wear them, regulation or not. Your “drawing” was intriguing. It so happens I know what cable means, otherwise I’m sure your sketch would have suggested a sock with a run in it. Really, though, are you sure it won’t be too much trouble? If not, I’d love to have them – size 11 and thanks!
Your mention of lack of interest in a certain date, left me with considerable food for thought, dear – and the thought, whatever your reasons, was pleasant. I wish I were out of the Army so that I could see you so many nights in a week you wouldn’t have time to go out with anyone else, dear – but that’s another thing that will have to wait – I mean, of course, my attempt at it.
This place is starting to fill up and it’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate. By writing this tonite I’ll be able to get this off in the a.m. but I’ll mail it to school anyway, I guess.
By the way – Charlie sends his regards and thanks you for yours. This will be all for tonight, dear. I’ll write again soon and again – good luck in your coming school year. Solong, dear.
I got your very sweet letter this p.m. and enjoyed it very much. It was considerate and thoughtful, and I like that.
It’s a little after 7 in the evening and darkness is settling fast down here on the beach. I’m in the Medical tent, one of the boys has just lighted the lamp, our banjoist is strumming hill-billy songs – and all in all I’m in a rather sentimental mood myself. I’ve been thinking all day about the past two months and how a seemingly gloomy summer turned out to be a very enjoyable one for me; I’ve been thinking how each week I’ve looked forward to the coming week-end with great zest and expectation; and today I couldn’t help but feel that the coming week-end would be a rather empty one with you not in Boston. But your leaving town doesn’t mean my losing contact with you, dear, and that’s a consolation.
Your concern about my health is very sweet. I guess a fellow likes nothing better than to know someone cares how he is – particularly if that someone is the right kind of girl. I really am cured of illness sans any particular treatment except rest and sleep. I got to my tent about 9:30 p.m. and a short time later I was fast asleep. Tonight I’ll go to sleep equally early and I’ll be a rip snortin’ soldier by morning.
Due to some general inspection of equipment by an Inspector General on Thursday morning, it seems that whether we’re thru firing or not, we will move back late Wednesday night. This should be our last trip out to this place and I won’t be particularly sorry.
I almost forgot to mention the subject of socks, darn it. What made you think about that, dear? Of course you know I’d wear them, regulation or not. Your “drawing” was intriguing. It so happens I know what cable means, otherwise I’m sure your sketch would have suggested a sock with a run in it. Really, though, are you sure it won’t be too much trouble? If not, I’d love to have them – size 11 and thanks!
Your mention of lack of interest in a certain date, left me with considerable food for thought, dear – and the thought, whatever your reasons, was pleasant. I wish I were out of the Army so that I could see you so many nights in a week you wouldn’t have time to go out with anyone else, dear – but that’s another thing that will have to wait – I mean, of course, my attempt at it.
This place is starting to fill up and it’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate. By writing this tonite I’ll be able to get this off in the a.m. but I’ll mail it to school anyway, I guess.
By the way – Charlie sends his regards and thanks you for yours. This will be all for tonight, dear. I’ll write again soon and again – good luck in your coming school year. Solong, dear.
Love
Greg
Note from FOURTH CHILD: Unless noted, letters now sent to: Wilder Hall, Mount Holyoke College, So. Hadley, MA
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