Stationery: 7 ¼ by 10, Medallion marked with “U.S. Naval Reserve Midshipman’s School” in black or dark blue, with “New York, N.Y.” beneath.
9 Nov 1943
My charming little schwester,
Truly I am still alive and still in love with the sage of Chickasha. My extensive correspondence is no indication of affection. But it could be said that you were no angel in this respect—just commenting, not chastising.
No, I do not write via typewriter, as I feel that long hand is much more personal, even tho’ illegible. Of course, the fact that there is no typewriter to be utilized, and the fact that it would take me hours to type a page, and the fact that the yeoman is not exceptionally fond of writing letters other than business letters, are merely minor reasons.
The picture of Joan in the News was a good one, but the others were not exactly superb—as may be adjudged by the fact that the only one I received, from dear fiancee’ was the News’ one—the others coming from 6109.
Punky had Patricia, a lovely child—now about six weeks old. I held her in my arms for ten minutes before she began to cry.
Be careful of that southern slang and those submarine dreams.
All here is per usual. Only fourteen more days—whee! Exams are over next Thursday—the 17th and then we have a few days to collect our wits—which we would rather be collecting in Chicago. My work is not spectacular, I have avoided the trees, and I have collected my share of those things called demerits. The life is healthy & mentally vigorous—and certainly by education, especially with med school completed, will have been a varied one. I have had no hint as to where I shall be sent, or as to transference to V-12. In the navy you do not predict, customarily not hope. Whatever the assignment is, it will be for the best, except perhaps for my marital status.
Ed Nelson stopped in for a few minutes yesterday. He graduated for Abbot Hall, & is going to Wash. D.C. for 9 weeks training in bomb disposal. Bob Walker is here—I manage to see him about every third mess—as we eat in the same hall. George Waynon (from H.P.H.S.) arrived in the same class & asked to have his best wishes sent west. Bud O’Donnell’s folks convince him that the merchant marine was not the best thing for him—after one trip to London on a Liberty ship.
Our platoon & company (the fightin’ 5th) has carried away all the championships.
My uniforms are almost completed still prefer the old civies.
Will close & write to Chicago and Lake Forest.
Lots of luck to Louise and David. Hope something turns up that we may arrive in Chicago together one of these days.
Your loving brother,