April 10, 1943, Saturday
Dear Mom, Dad, Kay & Jackie,
Here it is the end of another week. The weather is still warm down here, and we expect it to get hot any day now. I haven’t heard the results on the test yet, but when I do I’ll sure let you know. I was over to the main post this afternoon and was going to call up but the operator said it would take from three to six hours to put it through, so I didn’t bother. I did make it a point, though, to go to confession and I’m going to communion tomorrow. [The next best thing to calling home: going to confession! Could any of us now imagine waiting 3-6 hours to “put a call through”?]
We’re thru work at 5 every nite, then we have to dress up for retreat at 5:35. Supper is at 5:45, mail call at 6:30, then we have the rest of the evening to ourselves. On Saturdays we have dress and barracks inspection about 10 o’clock. If everything is satisfactory we get the afternoon off. Those who have passes can leave camp and be back Sunday nite. Those who stay in camp can sleep all day if they want to. I haven’t left camp yet on a pass but I may next weekend. We’re supposed to have a dance next Friday nite at a town named Taylor. Girls and refreshments will be served. It’s just for our outfit. (By the way the Opn. in my address stands for Operations).
One of the fellows just got a cake and it was pretty good. I got your letter with the prayer in it at noon time and a letter from Aunt Mart tonite. It was very nice and contained a lot of advice, but the best thing it contained was a dollar. [A DOLLAR!]
Have you sent the book matches yet? I’ve been getting the Post for the past week and it’s mighty good to get the local gossip and dirt. I heard a funny story today. One of the fellows in the company who comes from California was in town last week and met a local girl. They got talking and he happened to mention that this was the first time he was ever out of the United States and yet so near to it. [He must have been a blonde!] When she heard that she got up and walked away from him. That’s about all for now-lites out, so till I write again,
Love to all, Murray.
