438th AAA AW BN
APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Wed. Dec 15, 1943 1000
England
Dearest Sweetheart –
I thought I’d write early today. Last night I waited for the mail before writing and when there was none for me I felt blue and as a result wrote you a sad-type letter. That is something, darling, that I should never do, and I’m sorry for it. By writing now, I can anticipate the coming of a letter and reflect some gaiety in what I say rather than disappointment.
Now, let’s see – what can I be gay about? To tell the truth, nothing particularly funny has happened here, that I can recall. I have to start most of it myself, as a matter of fact. The other day, at a so-called free hour for the battalion, assembled in one building, the party wasn’t doing too well. About half-past the hour I received a message to come quickly to that building. I took my stethoscope, thinking some one had either fainted or been hurt, but when I arrived the Colonel told me to get on the stage and entertain the boys. Well I did, in one way or another, dear.
By the way, darling, do you remember the one about the bald man who was in the restaurant and when he was brought his plate, took the vegetable and started rubbing his head with it? When the manager saw him, he approached him and wanted to know why he was doing that with the cabbage. “Oh!”, the man answered, “I thought it was Brussels Sprouts.” That, dear, is current in England now. I used to know a lot like that.
Well, today it’s pretty quiet around here. For one thing, sickness, thank goodness, is at a minimum; secondly, a good part of the outfit is away. That reminds me, darling, I’m getting a new APO number again in a couple of days. You can start using it anytime. The new number is 527. It has only slight significance and you can gather from its resemblance to 515 – that it is not an important and far-reaching change.
I just heard the news re-broadcast from N.Y. They give a summary here every morning and they include actual voice recordings of R.G. Swing, Paul Schubert and others – of the night before. It is nicely done and brings you right up to date with home. Incidentally, one of my radio tubes is weak and I’m afraid my radio may go on the bum soon. I’ve written my father, hoping he may be able to get one and send it out. It’s aggravating, because I was able to buy a battery for the radio the other day and was now fully equipped for electricity or battery.
An item in the news by the President, dear, must have been depressing to you – I refer to the estimate of 2 years for demobilization. Don’t get discouraged, darling. They usually demobilize by entire battalions, and it will undoubtedly be by seniority. My battalion is an old one and that would help. Anyway, we’d get married when I returned, in the Army or not, and we could live wherever I was stationed, until I got out. How does that sound? I haven’t expressed my opinion very much on the ending of the war – but this morning I feel optimistic – so I forecast the end of the European part of the war before my outfit ever gets into anything resembling real action.
Anyway you look at it Sweetheart, it will all turn out all right – for the very good reason that Fate will make it so for us. I have always felt that way about things I have wanted and felt I deserved. I don’t see why fate should quit on me now. I haven’t changed.
Ten days before Christmas, dear, and the days are slipping by; four days before your Graduation and I suppose the days can’t slip by fast enough to suit you. By the way, dear, are or rather did you have a picture of yourself taken in cap and gown? I hope you did, just for remembrance sake. I have some somewhere – not good, but a least a memento. If you’re over my house of an evening, have my mother show it to you. It’s very somber, as I recall it.
Sweetheart, that’s all in the line of chatter this a.m., except to remind you that I love you very much, Wilma and aim to marry you – or did I already propose to you? I have yet to ask your folks, by the way, but the pleasure will be all mine. So long for now, dear, and until later –
I thought I’d write early today. Last night I waited for the mail before writing and when there was none for me I felt blue and as a result wrote you a sad-type letter. That is something, darling, that I should never do, and I’m sorry for it. By writing now, I can anticipate the coming of a letter and reflect some gaiety in what I say rather than disappointment.
Now, let’s see – what can I be gay about? To tell the truth, nothing particularly funny has happened here, that I can recall. I have to start most of it myself, as a matter of fact. The other day, at a so-called free hour for the battalion, assembled in one building, the party wasn’t doing too well. About half-past the hour I received a message to come quickly to that building. I took my stethoscope, thinking some one had either fainted or been hurt, but when I arrived the Colonel told me to get on the stage and entertain the boys. Well I did, in one way or another, dear.
By the way, darling, do you remember the one about the bald man who was in the restaurant and when he was brought his plate, took the vegetable and started rubbing his head with it? When the manager saw him, he approached him and wanted to know why he was doing that with the cabbage. “Oh!”, the man answered, “I thought it was Brussels Sprouts.” That, dear, is current in England now. I used to know a lot like that.
Well, today it’s pretty quiet around here. For one thing, sickness, thank goodness, is at a minimum; secondly, a good part of the outfit is away. That reminds me, darling, I’m getting a new APO number again in a couple of days. You can start using it anytime. The new number is 527. It has only slight significance and you can gather from its resemblance to 515 – that it is not an important and far-reaching change.
I just heard the news re-broadcast from N.Y. They give a summary here every morning and they include actual voice recordings of R.G. Swing, Paul Schubert and others – of the night before. It is nicely done and brings you right up to date with home. Incidentally, one of my radio tubes is weak and I’m afraid my radio may go on the bum soon. I’ve written my father, hoping he may be able to get one and send it out. It’s aggravating, because I was able to buy a battery for the radio the other day and was now fully equipped for electricity or battery.
An item in the news by the President, dear, must have been depressing to you – I refer to the estimate of 2 years for demobilization. Don’t get discouraged, darling. They usually demobilize by entire battalions, and it will undoubtedly be by seniority. My battalion is an old one and that would help. Anyway, we’d get married when I returned, in the Army or not, and we could live wherever I was stationed, until I got out. How does that sound? I haven’t expressed my opinion very much on the ending of the war – but this morning I feel optimistic – so I forecast the end of the European part of the war before my outfit ever gets into anything resembling real action.
Anyway you look at it Sweetheart, it will all turn out all right – for the very good reason that Fate will make it so for us. I have always felt that way about things I have wanted and felt I deserved. I don’t see why fate should quit on me now. I haven’t changed.
Ten days before Christmas, dear, and the days are slipping by; four days before your Graduation and I suppose the days can’t slip by fast enough to suit you. By the way, dear, are or rather did you have a picture of yourself taken in cap and gown? I hope you did, just for remembrance sake. I have some somewhere – not good, but a least a memento. If you’re over my house of an evening, have my mother show it to you. It’s very somber, as I recall it.
Sweetheart, that’s all in the line of chatter this a.m., except to remind you that I love you very much, Wilma and aim to marry you – or did I already propose to you? I have yet to ask your folks, by the way, but the pleasure will be all mine. So long for now, dear, and until later –
All my love
Greg
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