April 30, 1945 (to Marion Sneen)
Philippines
April 30, 1945
Dear Marion –
You continue to amaze me – no sooner do I complain about no mail & wham! The mail orderly slips me 3 at once supplemented by a neat little square package. Marion, I promise I’ll never b—ch again (oh, scuze my vernacular) about your letters not coming fast enough. In fact at the present reading I believe I’m in arears & better do some catching up – so.
Marion – you’ve had people say “it’s just what I wanted!” when they received a gift from you. Well, altho the phrase is probably much overworked – I’ve got to say exactly that about the swell birthday gift. And I mean it – I’ve been wanting a new billfold ever since I bought myself one in New Zealand. That one is worn out & just barely holding in my pesos. Gee – all I can say now is “Thanks, Marion”, but if I were there I’d like to express my gratitude a better way. You must know what I mean – so pucker up.
Every day here is like it’s neighbor – nothing different or impressive has happened since I wrote last. My hair is a little longer, I’ve got more time overseas, gained back a little weight I lost up-front, and have three more letters from you to read. Outside of those amazing developments life is very dull and repetitious. Guess I could tell you all about the war over here, but I can’t think of a more worthless subject than that – it’s one of the most senseless, gruesome, mean, wasteful, and devastating of man’s achievements. Can’t for the life of me see how or why humanity (maybe that’s a complaint to the species) ever gets itself in such a mess – maybe I’m just a peace-loving guy – “Dear Dorothy Dix: - I don’t understand.”
Eh gads – here it comes – I know better than to mess with poetry, but I thought of it & oughta fit pretty good in the space that’s left:
In reference to your letter,
And that poem about the “sweater.”
To fill the bill – you know what I mean.
I can think of none better – than
Marion Sneen!
I’m sorry – apologize profusely, & promise never again to mess around with the poetic stuff.
I’m still on duty as observer at the air strip – life is certainly much sweeter here than up-front. I’m really enjoying the nightly bridge games, the cot complete with sheets, & the leisurely existence. I’m reading Vanity Fair by Thakeray – I know – you read it way back in school, but somehow I missed it. It’s pretty good. The other day, of all things, I say down and read Romeo & Juliet – and really enjoyed it more than I did in high school.
The radio is on – Dinah Shore just got through singing “I Dream of You” Mmmm – is that nice – eh gads, when I hear music like that I’m fit to be tied.
I must admit – or maybe I shouldn’t – that poem about men is very true “They don’t know what they want” – are you kidding? Now – I’ll wipe that grin off my face.
Just received an announcement of Lt. Robert A. Swanson’s commission. And another Kin wins his bars. When he gets home you better greet him with “Sir.” Say you gals oughta fix the lad up with some little chick – I’m afraid that after all these years Swany’s lost his home “contacts.” Hmm – as though he won’t “operate” for himself!
Those crazy G.I.s – a bunch of them are out here by our tent amongst a stack of lumber, just sawing up a storm. They’re creating a new “two seater” & one of the more ingenious wants to insert a Nordan Bombsight. Crazy?
Well, gotta write my sis a letter and send her your poem about the sweater. She always gets a bang out of such. G’bye now & be good.
Love, Dip
P.S. I have enuff pictures of you to fill about ¾ of the spaces in the new billfold – so?
