May 11, 1969.  Camp Evans, Vietnam.


Dear Wife!

I’m going to start this now, but I’m not sure if I’ll get it finished.  I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that we’re going to have to work tonight.  I worked last night until about 2:30, so I’m kind of tired.  Got off to grab a couple more hours this morning go.  That helped.

Haven’t really done much today, which surprised me.  Even sat down and played cards for a while this afternoon — no one pushed us today which was nice for a change.

Didn’t get any mail from you today or yesterday, so I figure on a couple tomorrow they seem to come in spurts of two or three at a time with a day off in between.  I seem to be getting better service than a lot of guys though.

Honey, you said in one of your last letters that you were going to spend your life making me happy and proud of you.  Rita, I don’t think you could make me any happier or prouder of you than I am now.  And I know you’ll always make me happy, just because you’re the way you are — proud, because you’re my wife.  And I know our love will always remain strong and as beautiful as it is now.  I love you Rita, with all my heart.

I was right — we have to work.  Darn!  I’m just going to send this the way it is.  I’ll try to get a longer one off tomorrow, but that’s no promise.  I’ve found it’s easier said than done.

Goodnight, Reet.

Forever,

Jeff

PS.  Where’s that picture of you in your negligee?!!!

Advertisements