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Wednesday, August 20, 1969.  Camp Evans, Vietnam.


Dearest Reet,

Today was a great day.  I was in pain the whole day.  Last nite on guard duty one of my rear teeth abscessed.  So today I went to the dentist and had a wisdom tooth pulled.  The novocain didn’t do anything on the inside of my jaw, so it was painful.  After I got back it was so bad I couldn’t swallow or even talk.  So I popped about five pain pills and finally took a short nap.  Now it’s a little better, but not much.

Get this, the dentist said I couldn’t eat, drink, or smoke until tomorrow.  The first two okay, but smoking?  Sorry about that.

He checked all my other teeth too, and didn’t find one cavity.  Not bad for not seeing a dentist for over two years.

So, we’ve got a new niece now.  Glad she didn’t have all the trouble she had when Tony was born.  They wanted a girl this time, didn’t they?  And born on the same day yet.  Seems funny to think of them calling us Aunt and Uncle, doesn’t it?

You were wrong about being down at Colton with you once – it was twice.  I sure would like to see your Mom high.  Must be good!

That letter I wrote when I was drunk – I don’t remember much about it really.  I do remember talking about that night in North Carolina where you were drunk.  Maybe I shouldn’t have, but –

I’ll tell George the dinner date is still on, but it might be a problem collecting.  He gets out of the Army in January.

I think I told you that Skip got the psych course he sent for.  Same books and all they use at State.

I just read in the paper about a guy I went thru basic with.  He got shot in the back, but the bullet hit his pack and bedroll, and he killed the gook.  He’s on a recon patrol team.

I think I’m going to start sending you the Screaming Eagle, the 101st newspaper we get here.  You might be interested in what’s happening here, and I’d like to save them.  They’d be great for telling war stories to our kids, all about what a hero their old man was! (?)

Well Honey, that’s about all for tonite, except to say that I love you.  I say that a hundred times a day, and I’m waiting for the day I can tell you that in person a hundred times a day.  I love you Rita, with all my heart.

Your Love is My Life!


Now, I would have to go back and dig into dad’s military files (which are around here somewhere) to know exactly which regiment he was attached to, but the Wikipedia article HERE, and the fact he said in his last letter that he was now in artillery, indicates he was probably a part of the 2nd Battalion, 94th Artillery Regiment.  The 101st Airborne Division had taken over Camp Evans by this time and I’m guessing that’s the newspaper he’s referring to.  There’s a good chance he was patching up a bunch of bullet holes in their helicopters.

For those interested, a quick Google search revealed some interesting information about the division, including that they have an active Facebook page.

And for the record, I agree with dad.  I too would like to see my grandmother high.

Jeff and Rita on her 17th Birthday


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September 2016