Aug 28, 1945

Aug 28, 1945

Darling,

      Things are beginning to straighten out but not much.  I’ve been assigned to a crew here and we are part of an overseas group.  We may go to one other place from here for a few days, but we will go over very soon.  Like I said, they’re forming a complete group here that includes everything from cooks to generals.

       Say, things are picking up.  I’m getting so I can both day and night dream about you now.  More darn fun.  We sure had a swell time last night.

      Gee, you should be proud of me.  Today without anyone forcing me, I drank a whole glass of milk.  Just wanted to see what would happen.  So far O.K. 

      No damn mail from Tucson yet.  That gal at the mailroom better get on the ball.  Wisniwiki didn’t get any either.  (Does this make you curious?)

     We was scheduled to fly this morning so we got up at 0200 and staggered down to the briefing room.  They told us radar men didn’t have to fly this time but to stick around until they had a talk with us.  We waited till 0900.  Then we were told to go back to the barracks.  Such things as this annoy me no end. 

      It’s noon now and there isn’t anything to do until tomorrow.  Just sit and daydream.  Ya know too much of that isn’t good.  Should have hitch hiked to El Paso, but I was too tired.  Maybe it was just laziness, but no it must have been tiredness don’t you think?  As someone said, “ All work and no play keeps the doctor away.”  I wonder who did say that?  Who said all the things that people say as someone once said?  I personally refuse to believe it. 

      Watcha doin?  I love you. 

     The post library hasn’t any murder mysteries.  Isn’t that catastrophic? 

      We have a swell air conditioning unit in our barracks.  It blows sand and lizards.  One good thing no mosquitoes.  Not even a self respecting non-drinking mosquito would live here.  The coffee isn’t so hot either.  I mean it ain’t hot, ain’t no good either.  That’s why I drank milk.  Forced into it.  Stomach will probably rust.  Humph, fine thing!

       Must chug along to the P.X. (six miles north). And try and dig up some soap.  One’s washing is done by ones hands down here.  Down right primitive!

Bye for now honey, I love you - unrationed

Ray