Free Press hometown news Archives - Page 2 of 6

17 April 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m afraid this letter will be very brief, but I had to write because of some good news. Dick called me on the phone so I got in a jeep and picked him up. Then we came back and had supper and did a lot of talking. He is looking very good and full of cheer and smiling. One of the first things we had was to exchange our letters as all mail has a high value. He was all dirty so before chow he cleaned up. After mess we talked for a while then he had to leave. Said he sees Dye Carroll often and his mouth still puts out a torrent of baloney. Dick said he acts like an old veteran, but if he starts on me I’ll blow my lid. Wait till he gets a belly full of it. I’m in no mood to tolerate a fresh stateside cookie.

I’m fine and feeling good because much mail has been coming but one thing I want you to do is this. Mail the Free Press in a large envelope first class. It never gets to me as second class. I haven’t received one in months. Also I would like you to send Time magazine and Newsweek the same way. It’s the only way I can get up to date news from periodicals.

Well I’ll write more later. Reading my Episcopal prayer book is a great source of confidence and knowing you are thinking of me helps greatly.

Love,

16 February 1945

Dear folks,

I just finished cleaning up my mess then lit up a cigar and opened a beer and now ready to spend the balance of the evening writing letters—and always you’re the first on the list. I made the mess while trying to build a box to send the bolo and the scandals and finally completed the job and I think it will stick together at that. I had a Filipino girl get the scandals for me and she did pretty good. She’s also the laundry girl.

About four nights I saw a leg show with real white girls and civilians. The USO put on ‘Hellz-poppin’. There must have been a dozen chorus girls and two or three men. Needless to say the theater area was packed and the fact that a brisk shower cut loose had little effect on the guys. Neither did the singer complain—she just stood in the rain and kept going. It was full of laughs and with the right amount of spice. It was the best overseas show I’ve seen yet. I hope we can have more of them.

Had another letter today—a V-letter from Mom. I’m afraid I can’t answer the questions you put in that one.

Also two Free Presses came along but haven’t had much time to read them yet. Did see the pictures of the Sage boys, but the boys. I can imagine the banker Sage is quite a cigar smoking important individual.

A few days ago last week a Red Cross dame came around with a truckload of cold Coke and peanuts so we lined up with our mess cups and drank up. She had on slacks with the pants rolled up and about everyone was looking in the same direction. We must be getting to be wolves, huh?

I wished I could think of more to write about but nothing seems to want to pop up. I can’t help but feel that this year sometime we will either get a few furloughs or rotation. In every Free Press I read about fellows getting back. It seems like everyone has been home at some time or other. It’s hard to imagine myself getting home. About every night we get a strong blow and lots of rain and sometimes I think the tents will come down. If they would we’d be a sorry bunch of wet rats. A rain can from out of a clear sky in five minutes and then it all cuts loose. And after that it’s hot as hell. Had steaks for dinner yesterday with good dark gravy so that was a treat.

That’s really all I’m good for so this is it.

Love,

14 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Just enough time to write a letter before going to bed. Just finished a bridge game with two officers and luckily we beat them 1200 points. But we screwed up plenty at that. Had a letter from Jay Echelberger a few days ago, he’s a civilian in Los Angeles. Wants me to write him pretty bad so I better do it.

A few days ago got a hold of a nice Philippino bolo knife with a nice case and hope to get it sent pretty soon. But first I’m waiting to get you a pair of woven sandals. They look pretty nice and I’m sure you will like them.

I’ve been hitting darn good on the mail and don’t think I’ve missed one in a long time. You and Dad must be kept pretty much on the move to keep up with all your correspondence.

Nothing exciting has happened to me lately so in order to make up some kind of a letter guess I’ll have to make a commentary on some of your letters. In the first place question number 1, Aunt Bessie put in candy, some cards, some canned stuff and things like that. Last night I received your letter with Wylma’s address in it so thought I might knock her out a letter, but after I wrote it tore it up and gave it up for a bad job. And then I don’t know if she is a miss either. Sometime ago there was a deal that I was to be transferred to Group Hq as a M/Sgt but a change in commanders changed the deal. Yes I see Dan often, he isn’t very far away and occasionally he strolls in the office ready to talk your leg off and always grinning. Lately he has (been) bringing over stacks of Star-Heralds so I have plenty of reading material. So darned old though, I (have) known most of the news. I sure feel like you do about the Carroll’s and there’s hardly two bits worth in the lot. And I don’t think Margie is much better. And lastly I did faintly know the McVay boy although just by sight. Received a Free Press today and a picture of Ralph Curry, who was killed in action. Received a card and V-mail from Gram and Gramp the other day. Gram is so good to write I must write her soon but you let her know that I think of her often and always hoping Gramp will come through in good shape and soon be around well again.

I wished I could write more and make a newsy letter out of this but I’m getting sleepy and besides there isn’t anything more so just as well quit.

Love,

8 February 1945

Dear Folks,

Just unloosened my belt after a good meal and now before beginning a bridge game better write you a while. I’m in the mood and have some news. All day today I tore down the mimeograph machine and of course I had to get good and black as I usually do. I can remember you wondering how I got so dirty. I had parts all over but I got it back together and pretty good job too. After I finished took a dip and then showered. Feel swell now.

Yesterday three packages came—two from you and one from Mrs. D. A. Grove. Your packages were in perfect condition and everything completely intact. The birthday cakes were in very good condition not even smashed. Ate a little of them last nite and they are right in line with your good cooking. They were especially welcome now that the only eats before bed is what you get from home. In the other box was the Absorbine and olives and tuna. All came thru okay. I’m looking forward to some cake and beer tonight after the show. Of course as always when I get a box from home I get sentimental as the devil and catch a tear coming loose. Mrs. Grove sent me a lot of candy and small stuff. I must write her very soon. And today two letters and 4 Free Presses came. One was a Valentine card from you two and one a letter from Dad. The Free Presses were fairly recent—last November. Perhaps all of our second class (mail) will now arrive.

Finally found two bridge players for me and my partner so tonight will have a game. Probably make a lot of boners. A few of the officers play and I hope we can play them sometime.

I was a little surprised to read about what Dad had to say about the Helmicks and if that’s right I hate ‘em too. If he has no feeling for the war effort I would like to personally slug him but hard. I wish to hell he could get over here for a while and see what the hell’s going on. I have no use for anyone who doesn’t know there’s a war going on. Perhaps he should get a look at some young kids lying in a ditch all blown to hell, he’d change his mind. I’m working to a boil—better slow down.

Had a letter from June a few days ago and I’ll bet she’s very lonesome.

One day my hopes go up for rotation and the next time they go down so I’m staying noncommittal. Today took my hopes up again as I understand all over 30 months are being reported. I complete 30 next month, but I can’t imagine me going home. Just too good to be true. There are no furlough quotas.

I guess this is all, better shape up for the show and bridge game. Boy I’m getting to be a terrible writer. Get in too much of a hurry. Thanks again for the boxes and let’s hope next Christmas you won’t have to send any.

Love,

15 January 1945

Dearest Folks:

A little while ago I had a refreshing bath in the river nearby, and so now after having finished supper I feel like one of the old folks who likes to sit in the evening shade and just relax until dark. I’m feeling better every day, but still feel a little abnormal at times. How good it would be to inhale a bit of frosty air or walk through a snowdrift, with both cheeks rosy and cold. Perhaps they wouldn’t appeal to you, but after having been in the hot climates for better than two years, such an experience would be a treat. The weather here is extremely sultry and depressing and sometimes it seems to sap your will to work. Now I’m sweating but this year in the sincere hope that I will be able to see you sometime in 1945. Still our Christmas mail has not come and at this late date I’m beginning to think that someone should be held accountable, and explain for the situation. I’m sure it has been a failure on someone’s part after having seen other units getting theirs. One package arrived today from Mrs. D. A. Grove. It was well beat up and looked as though it had been kicked around from pillar to post. Also received a Free Press, the first in many months and dated the 17^th August. And a November Reader’s Digest came. Although the second class mail has indeed been fouled up, the first class has been coming regularly, as of course it must. The night before last had a V-mail from mom.

Well I hardly know what to write about now. My work has been going along about the same. New things coming in each day and reports to keep up. I believe our administration is at a greater peak than when we were in garrison. I’m sure that Dad’s reports are very few in comparison to what we submit. I suppose I will always be connected with higher headquarters. I see Arden Conklin is talking officer’s training—it’s hard to imagine a man of his qualities getting the opportunity. Applications at present are out and quotas in what I might qualify in are extremely rare. The last enlisted man to leave our outfit for OCS was over a year ago. The rain has been keeping our area in quagmire and it is a job to walk around without stepping in ankle deep mud, and I suppose the rain will always be much as it is now. It’s great for the many water buffaloes around but sad for the sad sack. I guess this is all to this epistle, and you just keep breaking wishbones, and throwing horseshoes over your shoulder until I hit the states again. Hey here’s an odd little request – getting soft – can you get Wylma N’s address for me? I owe her a letter. What do you think?

Love,

10 January 1945

[The second of two letters written to his parents, just hours apart]

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you a letter only a few hours ago but after writing it I thought it wasn’t a very good one and I know you want to know all I can tell you. It’s a little after suppertime now and I feel pretty decent. I think by tomorrow I will feel almost up to par again, and I hope I never get another attack like that again. I’m so glad you liked the watch and I hope it was just what you wanted – Dad wrote me about it so I knew you were getting it. I can imagine Dad hardly being able to wait until Christmas. I’m darned glad to hear Phil is going to the Merchant Marines. I know he seems very young to you to be put into the world, but even though he will run into a lot of hard talking rough minded men, it won’t hurt him if he doesn’t want it to. I’m sure he will be better off there than in the Army. On a boat he always knows where he’s going to sleep, gets good food, and can always keep clean, while here you’re often moving, sleeping in the dirt and eating boxed rations. I’m glad all over, that he will (should be ‘went’?) where he did. I know you’re hearing all the news about what’s going on in the Philippines and where and what I’m doing but I can’t tell you much about that. Perhaps at some later date they will let us put out more information. About a week ago I sent you forty dollars and it will come in the form of a treasury check, probably you have received it by this time. I will probably send more next month. Also this morning I had three letters from Dad including one V-mail and one from Nancy, and to me they mean everything – other letters don’t spell much. Also there was three letters from Mom and all of them were recent. I understand our mail is routed direct from Frisco avoiding the stop at Hawaii. The mail situation has been pretty good although nothing but first class has arrived in many months. I haven’t received a Reader’s Digest in five months or a Free Press since last August, and aside from the two packages, no other boxes have arrived. But we’re expecting an avalanche one of these days. There must be tons of it somewhere.

I have thought of a couple of things that would come in handy now. One is either a rubberized bag to hold toilet articles or else a small zipper packet to hold the same thing. I think a flat folding one would be the best, pretty compact but one that will hold the standard size articles. And a good sturdy one that water and banging around won’t hurt too much, and put about three combs in it. And the other is a waterproof cigarette holder, to keep cigarettes dry and unsmashed, and a cigarette lighter with plenty of flints, I know they are hard to get and probably you can’t find them.

I think this is all I have in mind now, and twilight is starting to take over, so can’t write much longer anyhow, so goodnight once again.

Love,

20 November 1944

Dear Folks:

I’ve let up on my writing this week for no good reason, so I better resolve to do something about it tonight. I’ll pull up a bottle of beer and maybe I can think a little better. Dan Gettman came in just a few minutes ago, bringing with him an armful of Star Heralds that I was anxious to read. I glanced over them briefly but will read them more carefully tomorrow. The latest one is dated September 8 so the news isn’t very current although it’s all interesting. Yesterday four old Free Presses caught up with (the mail) and I’ve still got them stuck under my pillow to read over a few times more before they find their way into the wastebasket. Well getting papers means also that some packages, the first in several months, came, and I received one from you marked Box 1 on the cards. The popcorn was the first I’ve seen since leaving Oahu, and tonight we plan to pop it after the show, if we can mooch a little butter from the kitchen. We have a small one burner stove that we cook on when the kitchen isn’t operating, and I think the pot will be large enough to do the job. And for supper tonight I enjoyed the olives. You know how I love ‘em, and of course I almost made a meal of them. The mess sergeant just came by and said I could get the butter so we’re set. On the humorous side, the can of Vienna sausages has made me the brunt of several jokes. You see Vienna sausages are about as common on the menu as Spam, and served as often. And knowing the jokes connected with Spam you can see what they’ve been saying to me. But then you couldn’t know about that. But that’s alright you know I can still use them. Quite a sizable shipment of boxes came in so everyone is enjoying eats of some kind or another.

Had a letter from Bill E and one from Glen last week and both of them seemed to like the high life they saw in Paris. At least those guys over there are around people that are about like us and not so foreign to them as the Japs. I see a Jap plane is to be displayed at the County Fair-I wished you would have seen all the ones I did, wrecked ones, that is.

Saw the show “Bathing Beauty” last night and if you saw it too you know the howling that must have gone on. I’d like to see more like it-no army or war in it. Two nights ago a military band came over for a concert, but they were a pretty sick crew in my estimation.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about now, not much exciting has happened. Washed out some clothes and other ‘unmentionables’ as the women say, and then after supper went up to hear the news. From the Philippine station, I heard mention of Arthur Veysey, who used to report for the Star Herald now with the AP, I believe. I can imagine how tonight the guys down there are having it and I hope it is ended before long. Noticed in the Star Herald that Shirley Heldt is married, she had weak knees over J. Conklin for a time. Haven’t played much bridge lately, but would like to get going again. Our cards are getting pretty do-eared, but as long as we don’t lose one we’ll be alright. Pinochle seems to be the big game around here but I’m not interested in it very much. You should get two bonds sometime in November for September and October-they have a new deal on now-sent only when we get paid so if they don‘t come for a month you will know I didn’t get paid. Think I’ll get a couple of GI bonds too. Haven’t heard from Dick for some time-I’ll have to get on him and make him write a little. Would certainly like to see him again. About a week ago we started giving classes in shorthand to the clerks, but I don’t think the effort will be successful. It takes too long and requires too much practice. Don’t use mine much anymore but dabble around once in a while. Was reading in the Star Herald about the university courses-sounds good and how I’d like to be in some of it. I’ll bet I wouldn’t do any fooling around this time and I‘d get down to brass tacks. I didn’t loaf while I was there but I’d get more done the next time. The last few days have been corkers-rained all the time-got everything damp and put mud all over. Aired out a few things today so they won’t mold.

I guess this is the last act-can’t dig up anything more so guess I’ll have to quit. Think I’ve put on a pound or two lately and feel fine. Keep the home fires burning and in church every Sunday when they pray, you add ‘and I hope he gets a furlough’. Thank you so much for the box, and I hope the next ones won’t be far off.

Love,

5 November 1944

Dear Folks:

I guess it’s high time I tortured this typewriter again and see if I can’t take care of a few current unanswered letters. Just finished off another Sunday, an easy loafing one although a ball game this morning took a little of the vinegar out of me, and this afternoon I had no trouble sleeping. I play shortstop on the team but my prowess is doubtful.

Well last night after the show two communiques from your front were here–one with the drawing of the house layout. Even though you’re no civil engineer Dad it was plenty okeh and I looked at it a long time before I had to go to bed because I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Of course I have the whole thing figured out in my mind and I’m sure it’s fully as nice as I think it is, and you don’t know how much I’d like to make an inspection.

Hey you people when you see any clippings about me or any of the others, cut it out and put it in the envelope. We haven’t received any 2^nd class mail in two months and if I have to wait for the papers I may never receive it. So the next letter be sure and get those articles you mentioned and send them. I’m pretty anxious to see them. I don’t know how many Free Presses must be on the way but I know the number is pretty high.

Perhaps the biggest thing since D-Day happened today. We all had the long delayed pleasure of sinking our fangs into some fresh meat. Good old steak, and besides this there was the rest to go with it, so my outlook improved considerably today. After this I reposed in customary Sunday style on the bunk, read a while then slept until about four. The Army should have more days like that.

Those much discussed but elusive furloughs were again given out a few days back, but its wait some more for me. We had the drawings at the theatre, walking by a can and grabbing a slip, and the one I pulled out was the blankest looking slip of paper I ever saw. I felt a little tense like the fellows you wrote about, and when it was over felt let down and a little defeated, but there’ll be another day (I hope). To be eligible you must have two year’s overseas service, so Dick won’t be eligible until about next May or June, I believe. If it is possible to get a quota every month perhaps my time won’t be far off, although getting the quota may be problematical.

Another high spot in last week’s seven days was the first payday in six months, and of course everyone is loaded with dough. I arranged a sort of Christmas present for you and I hope I can send it in my next letter. Working in personnel I’m glad to see everyone paid off as it means less paper work and liquidates a lot of little things to accumulate.

Also received a letter from Nancy last night and she sounds like she’s growing up. I’ll be plenty surprised when I have my first look at Philip and her because probably I don’t realize how much they’ve actually changed.

I think I better take off for the cinema–our shows start at six so I have to hurry to write you. I really enjoy your letters Dad. You put all the stuff in that interests me more than you think, and your style doesn’t make any difference. I wish I could tell you all I know because of course every GI has his ideas about what will happen next but I can’t say anything about that. Probably you have read about the little excitement we had the other night. Well I’ve really gotta stop and I’ll be around again soon.

Love,

25 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I have wanted to write you all day and I hope this letter gets to you with all possible speed. I’m afraid my last two epistles didn’t sound too cheerful, and you may have thought I was quite the old grouch, and probably you felt a little bad about them, so I want to make amends for them and try to make you believe I didn’t mean all of it. I received two letters from you last night and they were such good ones that I felt like a two bit heel. So please attribute them to the mood I was in and not any kind of a criticism of you. I know how you feel and how you must worry and I shouldn’t do anything to make it worse for you, so accept my apologies, and believe me when I say I didn’t mean them.

Well today was sort of a red letter one. No, not furloughs or a big stack of mail or anything like that, just some fresh meat. A couple of ex-cowhands took a jeep and shot a young cow from one of the herds that run around here. They slaughtered it and got it ready and the cooks did a good job of turning out a real supper tonight – really hit the spot. If the spuds hadn’t been dehydrated it would have been perfect.

Saw the movie ‘Mr. Skeffington’ tonight and I thought it was superb. One of the best I have seen in a long time. No war or flag waving exhibitions, just a good peacetime cinema. I thought it was great and the moral behind it was very good. Bette Davis is tops in my book.

In Dad’s letter last night he said the souvenirs had arrived OK. Was the box broken up and was everything there? There are so many regulations connected with the mailing of souvenirs that I wondered if anything had happened to them. And don’t forget to mail me the clipping that Si Parker had about them.

And another bright spot on the calendar this week. For the first time since last May I had a coke. Yep, we were issued ten of them – I don’t know how long they will last – but I look on each one as a precious treasure and hate to drink one. Even though we can’t cool them very well they still taste pretty good. The beer situation is getting better and I think I have about six or seven cans left. Usually drink one every night just before the show.

Gee mom it sounds like you were pretty worried about me when I had the fever, but really it wasn’t as bad as I believe you imagined. It’s all over now and I feel fine again. As a matter of fact I feel better than I have for some time.

I can just visualize how much trouble you went to, to get Dick’s and my boxes ready and you don’t know how good it makes me feel to know that – well that’s just the kind of parents they are and whatever they would do for us they wouldn’t think it would be enough. As each month goes by I wake up a little more to the fact that you are both the best in the world, and then those inconsiderate things I used to do and the worries I caused for you come in my thoughts, and I wonder if I can ever show you all the respect and love you both deserve.

We haven’t received any second class mail in weeks so of course that means I don’t get the Free Press, so you be sure and throw in all those clippings – even the little ones about anybody I used to know. I suppose soon the mail will come rushing in like a broken dam and I’ll be reading for weeks to catch up. Of course the first class is coming regularly and in fine time. I’ll bet you’re really busy taking care of Dick’s and my letters, and I’ll bet you never wrote so much in your life – even love letters.

Shirley Carroll’s dilemma is indeed a sorry one, but it seems to be following a typical Carroll pattern. If it hadn’t have been this, it would have been something else. Perhaps she should have been more careful, although I do feel sorry for her and thought she would make out better than most of them.

The little mention of the fiddle is something I often think about, and I get a deep urge to play it again. Your ears must have been very sympathetic when I picked it up. And my gas models often put a curb in my daydreams. I’ve thought that after the war I would start in again as a hobby, and have a little more to do with (it).

Well the lights around the area are going out one by one and I seem to be one of the few left so maybe I better be thinking about hitting the hay. But be sure and pick out all the nice things in those sour letters and forget the bad ones. I guess we all get (into) moods and I don’t know what made me that way.

Love,

12 September 1944

Dear Folks:

The mail boat came through today and I rated five – not a bad take. Mom’s two letters were full of quite a bit of interesting stuff and I thought they deserved an early answer so here I go. Also got the pictures of Stevie – boy he looks like a real jewel and you don’t know how much I would like to see him. I had wished that Katie would have been in one of them but maybe I can get one of her later. It’s no wonder you are so proud of Stevie and I’ll (bet) he’s created the biggest stir in the household since our last baby – I mean yours. Well guess I’ll take out your letters and use them to get some ideas. First I’ll write about Dick. I first heard he had been injured when a fellow from our outfit came from Saipan and said he saw Dick there. I didn’t know how bad he was hurt so immediately made arrangements to get over (there). When I saw him he looked good and was having life easy on a cot with sheets – white ones too. He told me what had happened and made me promise I would write nothing about it to you. He was afraid you would become unduly worried and no matter how much we would try to say it was only light injury, you would still be very upset. So I said okeh although I thought we should tell you. He was hurt while rounding up groups of snipers still holding out in the limestone caves on the northern end of the island. His group suffered heavily and he was lucky to get out. He was caught and forced to hug the ground for two hours while they got him out. Of course there’s a lot more to it, but someday he’ll be able to tell you – if he will. You wondered where he got hit. He had pieces in his feet, his legs and two in his back, and also well er—he got a piece that missed his private parts by a fraction of an inch. He laughed about that, and joked about what might have happened. You can imagine. And oh yes, they have American nurses – quite a few of them. The day I visited Dick it was rainy and muddy and they were running around in slacks and GI shoes, more like doughboys than women. They were the first white women I’d seen since leaving Oahu. Also at the hospital they have Chamorro girls working. They are very shy and modest, but soon pick up some common GI slang.

I sent the souvenirs home about the 6^th or 7^th of August but I think I told you about that. I insured them, so if the box don’t break up you’ll probably get them alright.

I don’t hardly know what to say about the Christmas deal, but you know since I’ve been here what I’ve missed quite a bit is fruit juices. So put in a couple cans of tomato juice, some orange juice, and something like that. Also any other canned treats that you think I might like – maybe chicken, olives. Right now I’d give a fortune for some of that stuff. And I would like to have you buy Dick a watch like mine with my compliments – I’m afraid his would break up with what he has to do, and one like I have would be just the thing. I would also like to have a birthstone ring, and a couple of watch straps – they go fast in this damp climate. And rather oddly maybe some pictures of home from the outside and some inside ones too if you can get them. I always wonder how the different rooms must look now. A cigarette lighter that will work in the wind with some flints would be a good thing. I know they are hard to get but perhaps you might run across one. A couple of good card decks. And here’s one—some licorice. This must sound like the flimsical whims that come over pregnant women but I would be glad to get any one of them. And also stick in a law book. Gram got my last one from a publishing company in Minnesota – I wish I could give you the exact name but I can’t think of it. I want one on Torts. You know I sure miss the books I left behind but they would be badly beat up if I had brought them along. I get so impatient for the war to get over so that I can get in a position where I can study it for good. I’m going to get Dick by the ears and if nothing unforeseen comes along we’re both going back to the University and take advantage of the tuition and expenses deal. The two of us would be eligible for $118 a month and we could get along famously on that. That would be considerably better than my first year I spent there although it was a year I wouldn’t have missed. I think Dick would be glad to do it.

I wished you and Dad would have stayed in Denver and had a good time and I’ll bet the telegram changed your plans. When I get back we’ll go away for about a month into the mountains and be the damndest laziest people you ever saw. It’s always been one of my wants to take you two someplace where there wouldn’t be anyone to bother you.

Well Mom I think I’ve answered all the questions I can. You know I guess I’m a screwball but I miss my fiddle and when I hear some good music on the radio wish I could pick it up and piddle around with it. But I can never listen to any good classical music because everyone else wants swing. The office has been humming despite our field conditions, and it would certainly be a relief to be able to get away for a while.

One thing I did overlook. Word flashed around partially rumor and partially fact that the army was developing a point system whereby the ones with the most points would be released first – after the defeat of Germany. It works on the plan of service, overseas service, dependents, and medals with so many points for each. Lately it has become as socially important to know how many points you have as it is to wear shoes. It is the high ranking subject around here, as it must be in all outfits but I can’t see myself being released until it is over.

I started to finish once and maybe I will this time. Jack showed me a clipping of the letters in the Free Press and I didn’t think they were so long. Jack sent you some pictures of us that are pretty good and I’m fortunate to be near him.

I guess this is the final act but I won’t say goodnight or goodbye this time, just lots of love and a toast to a quick end of this mess.

Love,