438th AAA AW BN
APO 4916 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Nov 9, 1943 2100
Dear Sweetheart –
Well – I couldn’t call you, again, this evening, dear, and I missed it terribly. I was all over the place looking for a loop-hole – but in the end, it just couldn’t be done. I did manage to mail a couple of letters, darling, and if they weren’t stopped by a base censor, you should have heard from me by now. The name appearing in the lower left corner of the envelope certifies that I have watched what I was writing – or something to that effect, dear.
I’m in the officers’ quarters now, darling. Charlie and I have a room to ourselves, but dammit, it hasn’t got any window seats. As a matter of fact, dear – it hasn’t even got a door, – just a doorway. Yet – it has something on a tent. I’m in pajamas right now, and have just finished scanning the paper I bought this morning – but hell – no Smilin’ Jack!
We have a censorship lecture coming up at 2200 – for officers, and then darling I’ll find out if what I’m writing you is allowed or not. The lecture is being held in our quarters – so I won’t have to re-dress.
I still don’t know, dear, when I’m going to be off next – but it looks as if I won’t be able to say ‘hello’ until then. I’m hoping I hear from you darling by tomorrow. This is about the longest stretch that I haven’t heard from you, dear, and I miss it. A letter from you in the morning is always the best tonic with which to start a day. After the war, sweetheart, I won’t need that, will I? I’ll get some real tonic – and how I’m looking forward to that happy time!
There isn’t much more to write now, darling, except to say ‘good-nite’. I’ll write you as soon as anything develops that I can write you about – and of course I’ll call you at the first opportunity. Until later, darling, so long and
Well – I couldn’t call you, again, this evening, dear, and I missed it terribly. I was all over the place looking for a loop-hole – but in the end, it just couldn’t be done. I did manage to mail a couple of letters, darling, and if they weren’t stopped by a base censor, you should have heard from me by now. The name appearing in the lower left corner of the envelope certifies that I have watched what I was writing – or something to that effect, dear.
I’m in the officers’ quarters now, darling. Charlie and I have a room to ourselves, but dammit, it hasn’t got any window seats. As a matter of fact, dear – it hasn’t even got a door, – just a doorway. Yet – it has something on a tent. I’m in pajamas right now, and have just finished scanning the paper I bought this morning – but hell – no Smilin’ Jack!
We have a censorship lecture coming up at 2200 – for officers, and then darling I’ll find out if what I’m writing you is allowed or not. The lecture is being held in our quarters – so I won’t have to re-dress.
I still don’t know, dear, when I’m going to be off next – but it looks as if I won’t be able to say ‘hello’ until then. I’m hoping I hear from you darling by tomorrow. This is about the longest stretch that I haven’t heard from you, dear, and I miss it. A letter from you in the morning is always the best tonic with which to start a day. After the war, sweetheart, I won’t need that, will I? I’ll get some real tonic – and how I’m looking forward to that happy time!
There isn’t much more to write now, darling, except to say ‘good-nite’. I’ll write you as soon as anything develops that I can write you about – and of course I’ll call you at the first opportunity. Until later, darling, so long and
All my love
Greg.
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