Big project due in school, plus turkey day.
Ethan
June 13, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dearest Rita,
Once again there was no work formation tonight, so I’m all cleaned up and done with my shower and sweating again. It’s real cool the way you start sweating before the water stops.
I had guard duty last night and am really tired tonight. I got to sleep this morning, but in this heat it doesn’t help much. Another reason is that I have KP tomorrow. Just thinking about it wears me out.
I really don’t have much to say tonight — not much has been going on. All our ships have had their periodic inspections and haven’t had much maintenance to pull last couple of days. A couple or ships of come back with bullet holes, but nothing serious.
No one has fallen off any bunkers or gone to the hospital for any reason lately. Oh, I guess Bill L. isn’t home yet; he’s still on a hospital ship over here, but will be going home soon. It’s a gastric ulcer and mono. He will be getting a medical discharge though, from what I hear.
I’m having the same problem several other guys are complaining about — not a thing to write. Everything around here is getting old and boring. It hasn’t been too bad so far, but I have a feeling things are going to start to drag before too long.
I suppose I could tell you that Kim is trying to teach me to play the guitar. In fact, if I can’t think of something more interesting to say pretty quick I’ll just quit and practice for a while.
Saturday evening.
I just finished a day of KP and I’m not even tired! Mainly it’s because I let everything slide and didn’t work any more or any harder than I had to. I don’t usually like to do things that way but I’ve just about decided that the way to get along in the Army. You don’t get any more or less whether you work hard or not, so why work up a sweat in the first place?
Okay, enough reflections on the trials and tribulations of Army Life. On to something more important. I received a long letter (11 pages) from you today and will now endeavor to answer it.
First of all you’d best tell the Knutson girls that I enjoyed their letters and tell them all hi for me. Hope that will keep them happy. I imagine they’ve been bugging you for a reply, right?
So — you went over the weight limit, huh? Well, I love you anyway honey. Popped any more pins lately? If you’re having trouble keeping down there now, imagine what will be like in a couple of years. I wish though, that rather than the semi-starvation diet you always go on, you would get on [one] that’s medically approved. It would probably help you lose faster and keep it off without suffering from hunger pains all the time.
My concentration has been shattered by Pete (Kim) hauling out the guitar and distracting me. He started an impromptu sing-along — he and I. Everyone else is gone. So if this doesn’t get finished tonight you can blame him.
This is Sunday now and as you can tell I didn’t make it back to this letter last night. Maybe I can get it done today.
You mentioned china in your letter, and I’ve been looking around to see what is available. You’re supposed to be able to order it through all PX’s over here, but you must remember that we are kind of out in the sticks, and the PX facilities we have aren’t quite up to par. But I’ve got nine months left so I’ll do my best. I’ll try to get a hold of a brochure to send to you and let you pick your own pattern. Just to be on the safe side.
No, I don’t think I can find a Vietnam map over here. We have plenty of maps around, but just area maps used for flying. I haven’t seen a map of the whole country since I got here. Wouldn’t you be able to find one at the bookstore or maybe Madsen’s? Well, maybe not. Anyway, I’ll keep my eyes open, but don’t count on it.
Have you been to any more of those waiting wives things yet? You haven’t mentioned them for a while so I was wondering.
So you don’t see much of Bob, huh? Well, I don’t even hear from him anymore. The last letter was a month and a half ago. So next time you do see him kick him in the rear end for me and tell him to get busy.
The year that has gone by since I gave you your diamond has sure gone by fast, hasn’t it? I still remember how I felt — both excited and nervous — the night you got it, even if I was 1500 miles away. You realize that if I had come over here when I left Eustis we would be looking forward to our wedding day in a couple months and wouldn’t have to worry about a long separation? But think of what we’ve already had together. Just remembering that and looking forward to it again will help the next nine months go by fast.
I know what you mean by that first date feeling. That’s the way I always feel too, but in a more relaxed way. Maybe that’s because we’ve never had to try to impress each other, even on our first dates. I’m so impressed and proud of you the way you really are that anything else wouldn’t do it all. I love you Rita, and always will. Remember that when a year seems so long. I love you!
Your Husband,
Jeff
June 11, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dear Rita,
It’s noon now and I decided I’d start that long letter I promised you. Don’t know what I’m going to say to make it long, but…
I’m on sandbagging detail today. We’re making sure we don’t work too hard though. We laid three rows of bags all morning (about a half hours job).
Honey, I’m all out of tapes, so if you want to get any more you’ll have to send one first. I can’t get a hold of any more over here.
I know what you mean about that carnival. I remember how big it seemed when I was a kid. Now it’s hard to see why I bothered to go. Maybe before too many years we’ll be taking our own kids to it. Then it should be a blast.
I’m glad you finally got your glasses. I hope they help your eyes so you don’t have any more problems like you did with your old ones. And I hope you wear them when you’re supposed to. Don’t forget to send me a picture (négligée picture too!).
I was surprised to hear about Les K. extending over here. I thought he was in a hurry to get back stateside. But an early out does look good. There is talk about a nine-month early out now, and if that goes through I may extend for a month to get it. But no more than that.
This is six o’clock now. I’ve heard rumors that we aren’t going to have a work formation tonight, but I don’t know whether or not to believe it. It’s too good to be true.
I got a letter from you which was mailed before the one I got last night. It’s the first time that has happened. Anyway, I’ve got two to answer now.
One question I guess I’d better answer right off is about our food. Well, I could describe it very vividly, but I won’t. Suffice to say keeps me alive. My biggest gripe is the iced tea — I hate iced tea. And that’s all they have, so I stick to water. Goes great with the meals. I think I have lost a little weight, but nothing serious.
Thanks for the Times, and yes I would like to get them regularly. Any current news is hard to get over here, and Time does a darn good job of presenting it.
That bit about Jeannie & Virgil — I kind of expected it, and I’m real glad. For awhile I thought it was all over with them. Wish I could be there for their wedding.
Why bug your mom about getting bulbs for the camera? Couldn’t you pick some up? Or is that just an excuse for not taking the picture? If it is I’ll cut you off — whoops, guess I can’t do that, can I?
A picture of me with my mustache would look just like the same as a picture without one. It’s too light to show up. However, I started another one and when it gets long enough I’ll darken it with a grease pencil and have a picture taken, okay?
Well, Reet, it’s 6:30 now and no work formation yet. So I’m going to take a shower and change close now. I’m going to put on some civilian clothes! That will be different. Be back shortly.
Okay, this is shortly. I didn’t get all dressed up like I was going to because it’s too hot yet, even though it’s raining. Instead I’m keeping cool by sitting around in my underwear.
I hope it was just a trim job your mom did on your hair. I know what you call a “trim.” But that’s another reason I want some pictures. Got to keep tabs on my wife’s hair.
He said you saw Gene C. — where has he been? I thought he was over here somewhere, but he couldn’t have completed his year yet. And if he’s coming over at all he won’t really have too long. He’s only got about nine months left in the Marines.
You know something Reet? It’s too bad we didn’t get you pregnant before I came over. Then he could have the doc say there complications and I could get a 30 day emergency leave. Maybe that’s not so bright after all — I’d go back just as horny, wouldn’t I? Oh well, it was a thought.
Seriously, I wish we could have children right away, but I guess there’s plenty of time for that. First there’s a million things I want to do with just you. And they start out with just being with you, forever.
I love you Rita.
All My Love,
Jeff
June 10, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dear Rita,
I’m being yelled at to turn out the lights and go to bed, but I want to get off a quick letter to you. It won’t be long but I’ve been thinking of you and feel like scrawling a few lines. I finally found a box for your birthday present and got that ready to go. I’ll send it in the morning. Remember, I don’t want you opening it until the day of your birthday. I also got some slides and a tape ready to send the folks. So you’ll have some more slides to look at. We are definitely going to have to pick up a projector in the future.
A guy who used to be here with us was wounded in a mortar attack at a fire base last night. A friend of his was killed. Things are getting hot over here (not where I am).
The letter I got from you tonight I’ll have to answer tomorrow. Maybe then I’ll have two, huh?
Must turn in now. I’ll try to get a nice long one off next. I love you Rita. Always remember that.
Your Love is My Life!
Jeff
June 7th, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
The first song is a parody of “Working in a Coal Mine,” by Lee Dorsey
The second is the Colonel Bogey March.
The third I don’t recognize. Anyone?
Ethan
June 6, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Hi Beautiful!
Wish I were with you to tell you just how beautiful you are and how much I love you. That is my biggest dream. And someday it will come true if I can just live through the waiting. It’s awfully hard at times. But when the time comes it will be worth the wait.
If my writing looks different it’s because I’m writing on a table for the first time since I got here. I sneaked off long enough yesterday to slap one together. After writing on my knee for so long this really feels weird.
I got a letter from you tonight, and, as you said in it, it has been a couple of days since I heard from you. But the long letter I got tonight more than made up for it.
Clay was just in so I showed him the part of your letter you talked about him. He said he’d pass up a hug and kiss for now because I just wasn’t his type, but that he’d be sure to collect it in person when he gets back. I don’t think I like the idea of you hugging and kissing everybody like that though.
Kim says he stopped picking his ears with his feet. He uses his tongue now!
Yes, I know how it is trying to figure out where money has gone or where the money you need will come from. It’s frustrating. But the experience will be good for you. And now maybe you can realize how I felt in North Carolina when I was worrying about food on the table and a roof over our head. Things worked out fine there and I’m sure they will now. It’ll be nice to have a little to back us up so things won’t be so tight in our next home.
You mentioned Pat P.’s short hair — the first time I ever saw her she had it the same way. I couldn’t see what Ward saw in her at the time.
But when her hair grew out and I got to know her better I liked her. Last time we were home I thought it was real cute. I hope we see more of them once I’m out. For relatives living in my own town I sure don’t know Ward very well.
If you find Shirley L.’s address, send it to me. I don’t know if my last letter will get through to Bill or not. I’ll write again if I don’t hear something in a week or two.
Clay just bought a tape recorder today. It’s a good size set and cost him better than $130. I’d like to pick up a good one for us if money permits before I leave here. Also a good camera. I could save a lot of dust on some real good equipment.
I think I told you that Clay’s Barb was pregnant, didn’t I? Well, she’s going to have the baby and keep it. Don’t know why they don’t get married in Hawaii — the chaplain would arrange it for Clay. But, I guess that’s their business.
I really meant to write on the backs of all those pictures, but I kept forgetting to mail them. When I did remember I just tossed them in the way they were before I forgot again. I did write on a couple though, didn’t I?
Well, Reet, I think I’d best close pretty quick. Clay wants to record the music off our (Kim’s and mine) recorder. Oh, say, if you can, would you get a hold of the Outsiders album Dex has and record for me? I think you know which one I mean. I’d really like to hear that again.
So long, honey. Remember that I love and miss you and you are on my mind 24 hours a day. I love you.
Forever,
Jeff
June 4, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dear Rita,
Okay, here’s that cheerful letter I promised you, and I am in a pretty good mood, so…
One reason I’m in a good mood is because today I worked on helicopters, after not being near one for three days. That’s a big help. Also, no one was bugging us for a change. Real different.
This morning we did go out to the range and sighted in our weapons. I found that I had a real fine one. I’m going to send one of my targets to Bob and let him eat his heart out. The rest of the time we shot the hell out of tin cans and anything we could find. And we got our weapons back. That makes me feel better (not that I think I’ll need it, just in case).
I got a tape from the folks last night. After I wrote you I listened to it, about 11:30. It was really good. They started at April 15, and I guess they just left it out so whenever anyone had anything to say they just said it. I really should write them tonight, but I doubt if I will.
Today is Dave’s birthday so we’re having kind of a party. We just got back from the beer tent. Everyone is sitting around singing new words to old songs. I’m going to try taping some to send along in my next tape if I can.
Okay, back again. I taped some of the songs and will send them in my next tape. I hope to get it made tomorrow night. I’ll sure try anyway.
I just got your letter tonight about the car insurance and all. I’ll wait for the tape to say anything about that. It’s much easier than trying to write but don’t let money bug you too much, hon. Just do the best you can.
I’m going to close now and go to bed. Wish it was with you, Reet. I sure would go for that right now. I love you, Rita, and I wish I could tell you that as we crawl into bed again. Just remember that I’m saying that to you every night when I go to sleep. I love you, forever.
Love,
Jeff
So you know that audio tape that I “missed” and therefore stopped everything to go back and edit so I would have everything posted in order? Yeah, it was a July 2nd tape, not a June 2nd. A month away. There is a June 7th coming up in a few days, but I essentially freaked out about nothing.
Did I mention I’m back in school?
*sigh*
The laptop I use to post is dead. Gotta find a new power cable before it’s up again and I can do any more.
Keep checking back.
Apologies,
Ethan
I’m back in school and, it would seem, distracted. Turns out I missed an audio post. It’s a June 2nd tape so it’s only late by a day but I don’t want to put any more up before I get it edited and ready to go.
Look for it on Thursday.
Ethan
June 3, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dearest Rita,
Don’t expect this to be too long, ‘cause I just have a few minutes. I should be eating, but I’ll just grab a bite before they close down the line.
I’ve been working my ___ off for the last couple of days. Tomorrow we have a C.M.M.I. inspection. Don’t ask me what it stands for, but a bunch of bigwigs come down and over our equipment with fine tooth combs. Anyway, just a couple days ago Ron G. and I were assigned as drivers of the maintenance platoon trucks. So for three days straight we’ve been working on it. I know we’ll be working till midnight or after tonight, and I also know everything won’t get done. But I quit worrying about it. If it doesn’t get done, to hell with it.
I’m back now and it’s 10:00. Got off earlier than I expected. Mainly because the night crew needed to use it. I really should be hitting the sack but I’m determined to get a letter finished tonight.
Remember when I told you about our weapons being taken away? Well, several guys wrote letters to their congressmen about it. And lately our CO and first Sergeant have been getting all sorts of letters from DC. Also, the inspector general jumped in, the battalion CO was down and chewed top* out Sunday, and today General Wright, our new division commander was here and did the same. Makes us all feel pretty good. The result is that tomorrow we get our weapons back and go to the range to sight them in. Most of us have never fired the weapon we have now.
Okay, I’m going on to answer your last letter. I think I’ll start out with your loan to Nancy. No, I’m not mad, but I do think it was a poor idea when you are somewhat low yourself. Or did you draw it out of the bank? I hope not. If you did, I want you to be sure to get it back in, pronto. And honey, please don’t draw any out unless there is a dire emergency. The only other reason would be for school, and I had hoped you could save enough out of your checks for that.
Honey, I know I promised I wouldn’t bug you about money but I’m afraid I’m going to have to. You get $130 a month from the government, and make approximately $120 at your job. That’s $250 a month, hon, and you said you haven’t saved any yet. I know there are bills and expenses, but that much? The two of us lived on less in North Carolina and we were paying rent, food, gas and the works. Surely it’s not more expensive living at home, is it?
I’m sorry Reet. I shouldn’t go on like that. It’s just that we’ll need all the money we can get when I come home. And if it keeps on like this, I won’t be able to afford an R&R in Hawaii, and I want to see you there more than anything in the world. But I won’t take it if it looks like we’ll be short when I come home. So do me a favor, will you Rita? Try to put $50 a month in the bank as soon as you get your check from the government. Try your darndest to save every penny you can besides. Thanks, honey.
Okay, I’m all done blowing for tonight. But it’s getting late and I’ve got to get some sleep. I promise I’ll get off a more cheerful letter tomorrow, okay?
Goodnight, Reet. I love you.
For ever,
Jeff
PS. Here’s the picture I forgot to send you in my last letter.
I’m assuming “top” means the high ranking offers at the camp.
Ethan
June 1, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dear Rita,
Hi lover, how’s it going? I’ll tell you know it’s going here — lousy. My biggest problem is that I’m horny as hell, and I miss you something terrible. Yes, I’d even go so far as to dig out a green towel if I had to. You know, it really seems longer than four months that we’ve been married. I guess I got used to the idea pretty quick. One thing’s for sure, I’d never want it any other way. I love you Rita.
I’m kinda glad your neighbor John is getting married. If he weren’t, I think I’d be afraid of some competition. No, not really — he sounds like a great guy. I hope you and Sue do get along as well as you hope. I’m sure you will if she makes friends have as easily as you do.
I got a letter from mom yesterday as well as one from you. She said dad really liked the sweater you gave him for his birthday. It even sounded real nice from your description.
I imagine that since Bob is home now he’s busy trying to drink the town dry. Back in my wilder days I might’ve helped him if I were home. However, now I know that a nice, warm, cuddly wife beats the heck out of boozing it up all over town. Instead you booze it up at home with her, right? Right.
I finally got a letter off to my folks last night after I got off KP. They probably gave up on me. Today I managed to dash off a note to Jeannie A. since I couldn’t get a graduation card. Now I should write the Larsen family and my aunt and uncle in Minneapolis (remember them?). Don’t know when I’ll get that done.
Yes, I can imagine how excited Nancy is about now, and Bernie too for that matter. I know how I’d feel in his place. I would guess that she’s going with him to his next assignment, right?
You answered most of the questions I asked in your letter yesterday, except one. What’s the bit with the poster? Just explain what it says or shows and I’ll be happy.
At a gook shop over here they have some pictures on a felt cloth that are really outstanding. I was tempted to send you a couple (orange of course). They’d look great hanging someplace. Only one problem. They were mostly pictures of naked or semi-naked females. There were in real good taste mind you and very beautifully done, but I couldn’t see them hanging in your room, or our living room later on. I’ll try to find some more appropriate ones to send you. (I might buy one for the hooch though, to hang beside your picture — how does that grab you?)
Which reminds me — when do I get that picture of you in your négligée? I’m waiting for it very patiently. But it would be nice to get it before my tour is over (hint!)
Oh yes, another thing. Is Dale A. around yet? When I was home he didn’t know how long they’d be there or if they would stay for awhile. If he’s there are the still living out of Marks Trailer Park? I’d like to drop him a line too sometime.
Is Bob N. racing again this year? If so, how’s he doing? Have you been going out there much?
You should be getting your check about now, and the bank should be getting theirs. How much do we have in savings now, hon? And have you had your teeth taken care of yet? And don’t forget a picture of you and your new glasses as soon as you get them.
Must go to chow now. I’ll write again as soon as possible. I love you Rita — remember that. Can’t wait to tell you and show you once again.
Your Love is My Life,
Jeff
May 29, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Dear Rita,
I’m writing this while on guard duty. May not be very long because it won’t stay light, but I do my best.
Since I just mailed a letter this evening and it won’t go out until the morning, you’ll get both of these at the same time probably. That should make you happy. It’ll be different anyway.
I picked up those pictures I’ve been promising you. I’ll try to get them on the way tomorrow. I had forgotten how long ago I had taken them. They were taken when I was down at Da Nang when our ships came in. You can see from the pictures how soft they have it compared to us.
It’s raining now, I have a feeling it’s going to be a thoroughly miserable night.
Honey, send me any clippings you see about the fighting in the Ashaw. We only hear about our part of the fighting, and never get the whole picture. It sure would be appreciated.
It’s getting too dark to write now, so I’ll finish tomorrow. Guess you won’t get two the same day after all.
Back again — late Friday afternoon now. I slept all morning but I’m still dead tired. I’ve got to get to bed early tonight, since I had KP tomorrow which means getting up at 4:30. I’m not looking forward to that at all.
You mentioned Dean’s mustache — that I ever tell you I was growing one too? That is, I was. I cut it off about a week ago. It was nice and long but so darn blonde that it didn’t show up. Maybe I’ll try again one of these days.
I just got a letter from Curt tonight. He yelled and screamed at me as I called him a lifer. He said he had 92 days left, and that was the 14th. Now it’s down around 80. He said that he hasn’t taken his R&R yet — it was his seven-day leave. And he went to Manila, not Japan like I thought.
Mom mentioned something in her last letter about the change in Becki’s wedding date. I guess she’d been talking to Sonny’s wife (can’t recall her name). She wasn’t sure about it though. It’s a shame they can’t have a double wedding like they planned. It was getting so close it’s too bad they had to blow it.
I told you that Clay is back, didn’t I? He’s going to have a real cool scar now. It’s a perfect “T” in the middle of his chest. It’s about 6 inches long and three across. He has to go back tomorrow for a check and may get some of the stitches removed.
Still no word at all on Bill. I wish I had Shirley’s address so I could find out from her what the hell is going on.
Clay was just here. He was looking through my photo album and said to tell you that you definitely look better with long hair. (By the way, how’s your hair coming?) He also saw that one of you in bed, which he seen before but couldn’t remember. Of course he had to give me a hard time about it. Then Kim joined in, claiming he hadn’t seen it before either. Needless to say I was on the losing end of the deal.
Must go hit the sack now. Seems that’s how I end all my letters but that’s how it goes.
I love you Rita. And I’m waiting for the day I can have you in my arms again, forever.
All My Love,
Jeff
PS. Sending more pics with next letter — 294 days to go!
May 28, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Hi Love,
I just got off work, ate chow and was ready to relax for a while when I was informed that I have to work all night too. The night shift is shorthanded tonight, so guess who’s the lucky one. Piss me off! So now I’m here skipping the formation to write you a few lines. It’s been a couple days since the last one.
I got paid today and found that I have $208 riding the books. Maybe more — I’m not sure of their figuring. I’m going to check on that tomorrow (I hope). At any rate, I should have a pretty nice pile by the time R&R rolls around. Are you going to have enough to get to Hawaii?
Tomorrow I hope to get those pictures I’ve been promising you. I’ll send them right away. I’ve got another batch of slides I’m sending to the folks too.
Clay is back. They weren’t going to let them out for a while, but last night some guys smuggled him some clothes and he came down here for a couple of hours. The doctor found out and decided if he wanted to do that he may as well release him. He’s on light duty for at least a week though.
Get this — our weapons have been taken away. We have to go check them out when we need them and turn them in afterwards. And this is Vietnam! Several things brought this on — for one the threats directed at our first Sergeant. For another, several guys have pulled guns on someone they were mad at. Like the other night in a poker game a guy drew a revolver on the other players and chased them out of the hooch. The 1st pig came running up but when he saw what was going on he turned tail and ran. Finally the CO came and took it away from him at gunpoint. Real cool. That’s about the fifth or sixth incident like that since we’ve been here. Still, it would be nice to have a weapon if Charlie comes running through here.
Enough of what’s happening here. I’ll answer the last couple of letters I’ve received from you. The thing you’ve been talking about most is the puppies. Well, congrats, grandma. Now what are you going to do with them? Hope you don’t have any trouble giving them away. No, I don’t mind getting a couple pictures of the pups, but it better not be before I get one of you in your négligée!
Thanks for the clippings hon. I was really interested in the one of Petey. She’s really a cool kid. It sounds as if that Whip to White bit was kind of a dud. Most have been if they couldn’t drink up 900 cases of beer. That’s chicken feed. Maybe it was because they didn’t have Wakeman there. But what was the bit with Art B.? Just something you tossed in? I couldn’t see any reason for it, but it was funny.
When his graduation at the college? I just realized this week that Jeannie A. will be graduating. Since I can’t get a card I’d like to get a letter off to her if I can find time. Don’t know if I will or not.
This is Thursday now. I worked until 5:00 this morning, so I got the day off. I am going to the PX today, if I can remember how to get over there.
Okay, I’m back. I did make it to the PX and got everything I need. In fact, I bought you a birthday present too. I’m going to send it as soon as I find a box, since I don’t know how long it will take to get there. But you can’t open it until your birthday. Don’t even open the package, since I have no way to get any wrapping paper over here, okay? Just let it sit and build up your curiosity.
Must get ready for guard duty now. I’ll write again as soon as I can. I love you Rita,
All My Love,
Jeff
May 26, 1969. Camp Evans, Vietnam.
Hi Reet
I’m sitting here on my cot being eaten alive by bugs and I ran out of bug spray. I hope you appreciate the utter agony I’m enduring to write you this letter. I guess it would be the same if I wasn’t writing, except then I would have both hands free to slap them.
I just got back from visiting Clay. He’s feeling fine and wants to come back to the unit. Of course he wouldn’t be able to do much for a while, but at least he’d feel more at home. He’s awfully bored there.
Kim went to see the doctor today too. He figured out he has athletes foot — on his ear. It could only happen to Kim. It bothers him a lot though, and seems to be spreading. He’s been getting a lot of crap about it too.
Our battery seems to collect casualties right here at Evans, without ever going to the field. Bill, Clay, and Kim I told you about. Another guy had a piece of burning match fly in his eye . Another one went to Da Nang for a day — 2 weeks ago. He hasn’t been heard from since. Still another split his foot open stumbling around in the dark going to the showers. At this rate, who needs Charlie?
Things have slowed up a bit this week. All the ships are flying and we’ve only had minor maintenance to pull. We still have to fill sandbags in the evening, but we keep running out. Funny thing. It seems that three or four empty bags accidentally get shoved in every one we fill. Can’t figure out how that happens.
I got your last package the other day, so now I’m busy munching sunflower seeds. The fudge is real good, although a little gooey. I put it in the refrigerator next door, so it’s better now.
I also received the pictures you sent. Boy do they make me homesick for you and our trailer. They really brought back the memories. When I saw them it hit me harder than ever how much I miss you. I love you Rita, and I want everything to be just like it was then — just the two of us in our own home again. But it won’t even take that to make me happy. Just as soon as you are my arms again I’ll be the happiest man in the world.
Must close now and get some sleep. I’ll be dreaming about you honey. I love you!
Forever,
Jeff
PS. Get that picture taken of you in your négligée. Immediately! Take a whole roll so I won’t have to wait.
PS again — only 299 days to go!
