March 29, 1969.  Camp Tien Sha, Vietnam.

Dearest Rita,

I just finished a quick letter to my folks — first one since I’ve been here.  I just haven’t had time for any more.  I’m sorry my last letter to you was so abruptly ended, but I figured I’d best get it sent, otherwise you’d still be waiting.

I’m at camp Tien Sha at Da Nang now.  We’ve been here since Thursday — thirteen of us.  It’s like an R&R center compared to Evens.  I would have written before this, but I had to guard the ships Thursday night, so last night I was too tired to think straight.  Tonight I’ll get this done though, and that’s a promise.

You’re going to have to tell me all about your trip to S.D.  And by now, the one to California.  In fact this will probably reach Brookings while you’re gone, huh?  So let me hear about it when you get back, okay?

Say — any word from Roe on our pictures?  You said something about sending them over, but best you don’t.  It probably wouldn’t survive the trip.  The picture of you (senior) just about didn’t make it.  The glass was broken, but the frame and picture are still okay.  I’m trying to get the glass replaced now, but without much luck.

I bought a little instamatic camera, and will be sending you some pictures before long.  I have some slide film too, but I’ll send that to my folks and they’ll show you.

You know something honey?  I miss you.  And I’m thankful that I don’t have much time to think about it or it would be a lot harder.  The best part is knowing that this will be the last time in our lives we’ll be separated like this.  I love you Rita, and I hope this year will go as fast for you as I think it will for me.

Your husband,