Instead of getting closer to home as I would like to, I’m going farther away. I know you have probably been anxious since you haven’t heard from me for sometime and I’ve been equally as anxious to write you and let you know everything is alright with me. Now I’m in the Philippines. Pretty hot here in more ways than one. But the most annoying aspect is the rain – it seems to rain all the time and everything is always damp. However I’m now living in a pyramidal tent which is much better than a pup tent. There are native Filipinos all around the area. A few of them have stories about guerilla fighting and how the Japs treated them. And they are always bargaining for something–rations, clothes, matches, etc. The people seem very small and their grass huts are built in proportion to their size. But I’m not much in the mood to write a newsy letter – the main thing is to let you know that I’m fine and the prospects are pretty good. Our first night here we got a Fourth of July welcoming and much of it was spent in a foxhole. Jumping in a foxhole together with the rain isn’t enjoyable, but I can’t complain when I think of the infantry fellows who are up there taking it without even the small conveniences we have. The trip here had me worried a couple of times when the air raid sounded, but we got in without an attack. If you are reading about this place you know what the Japs are doing to hold it and its no quarter fight on both sides. The best thing that happened when we first got here was mail. It was waiting – first class and a package from you – you don’t know how comforting they were. The package had chicken in it and it was a good supplement to the K rations – and the pretzels went good with some beer we managed to ship over in an office box. And then I had a letter from Dad and Mom and a card from Reader’s Digest about the subscription. Would you write them and advise them of my new APO?
WelI thought I’d write this V-mail first for it might get to you a little sooner, but I’ll write again soon and give you more dope. The siren might sound again at any time and then I’ll have to put the light out and won’t be able to finish. So adios for this time.