Fit as a Fiddle

Laurel’s input: [My hopes for Dad’s happiness are dashed as I open his March 16th letter]

I was released from the hospital last Sunday, feeling fit as a fiddle and ready for love. My cold seemed to clear up over night. I really had a tough one, worst one I ever had.

To date I still have not received any mail. I know it is not your fault, but damn it all it’s mighty discouraging. I stand out there day after day to hear names of fellows all around me. Mail call is regarded to be the most important event of the day here and in every army camp. I suppose once it starts coming it will come pretty regularly.

Well I started on my basic training Monday. We get up at 6:30; fall out for revile at 6:45, and eat at 7:00. About 7:30 we fall out again and have about an hour of physical exercise, and I do mean exercise. We do all kinds of body bends and twists. Then we form in a circle, walk then run, then do all kinds of torture movements such as squatting down and walking, or walking on our hands and toes. After this we have classes on various things such as courtesy and customs, motors, hygiene, the artillery guns, and other army methods. We eat dinner at 12:00. After dinner we usually have a few more classes, or a training film on different things. Then we usually go for a little walk about 4:00. It’s not so easy to keep step marching in sand. Monday, we did a bit of wood marching. First of all we had to leap across a pretty wide ditch. I didn’t realize it was so deep or wide until I was half way over. I made it all right but some fellows just aren’t jumpers. Poor fellows! Then we do double time running up and down hills, over rocks, and over a log, which is a bridge over a ditch. After going through that I think I’ll give up cigarettes. Boy! was I winded. We march back, change into our dress uniforms, and stand retreat about 5:30. We eat supper at 6:00 and have the rest of the night to ourselves, provided we aren’t bagged for extra detail.

Tonite the commanding officer pulled a surprise inspection and caught quite a few fellows who hadn’t shined their shoes or shaved. Their names were taken and they’ll be given extra detail.

Luckily for me, I passed inspection and might get a pass to leave camp Sunday. The nearest city is Austin, the capital of Texas, and it’s thirty-five miles away. There are buses running down there every few minutes. Of course there are a few towns nearer camp.

We’ll probably be taken out of confinement over the weekend, and it sure will be nice to be able to go to the P.X., or Post Exchange, to get tonic, candy . . . etc. It’s kind of tough to be confined in a strange place for two weeks. You’d like to get out and see the country around.

By the way, in case of emergency that you’d ever want me home, do not send a telegram. Call the Red Cross, tell them the reason, and my address. Tell them to send the request to: (address here). This is the only way in which I can be granted an emergency furlough.

How is everything way up in that little state of Massachusetts? I hear you’ve been having some cool weather there. Down here it’s so hot, the sweat just runs off you, if you’re doing anything strenuous. However the nights are still cool and you can get a good night’s sleep. I haven’t written to any of the fellows because I don’t know whether they are still home or not. Be sure to let me know in your letter.

That’s about all I can think of right now so until I see you all again, I send you my love because I miss you all.    Murray

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