In a few minutes I’m going over the hill and down the road to the show but first I better scratch you out a short epistle. The last time I wrote you I was on Saipan where I was with Dick and where I could see Jack, but now I’m three miles across the channel on Tinian. Tinian is a green, oblong island with a plateau down the middle. It reminds me much of Maui. The fields are well laid out, and abounding with sugar cane, sweet potatoes and other small crops. Looking at the valley from Lake Minatare is much like the scene from here. Most of the farm homes I have seen look as though the Jap farmers must have been pretty well off. More presentable than those on Saipan. Tinian towns must have been picturesque little settlements when it was whole, but now it looks like Garapan. I never imagined I would see such destruction as I had seen in newsreels, etc., but that’s all I have seen for the last two months. Every building and shed has been hit, and even small houses setting hidden in cane fields have been demolished. On most of the Jap homes, the house is of wood with a tin roof, while the barn is usually reinforced concrete about eight inches thick, and a large cistern to collect rain water. Water by the way is a pretty important matter here and probably it contributed no little in whipping the Japs. Probably every Jap farmer was forced to build a concrete barn and maintain some stock for the army. On the southern part of the island snipers and civilians are being collected, although the island has been secured for some time. From the wreckage of houses we have taken what was left to make ourselves some shelter against the rain, and I wished you could see some of the Rube Goldberg contraptions that have been arranged. The architectural masterpieces that are showers are something to see. It seems that every piece of wreckage can be put to use in some way. It has been raining a lot lately and the mud is bad to slip around in. I’m getting behind on dirty clothes and tomorrow I think I’ll be forced to do some laundry. I wished you could see us whip up our supper. We have a small stove and we’re sure to make some man a good wife. The rations get a little tiresome but soon we’ll have a kitchen and back to good rations.
Well Mom and Dad I’m still very well. Dengue fever has hit some but I’ve been okeh so far. Of course the only really bad element to it all is the distance from home. I haven’t seen Dick for a week or two and probably won’t get to see him for some time although you can never tell. Probably I may not see Jack again either. Dusk is pulling the shades down so I better grab my mosquito drop and flashlight and get along to the show. Last night we sat in the rain and saw a show that was bad for the dogfaces titled ‘Love Can’t Be Rationed’. About the scarcity of men in the states and the feminine wolves. What a situation. Well adios this time.