December 8, 1942
Camp White, Ore.
Dear Aunty Clara:
I want to be in bed by 2130 so I will cut this short. I got my haircut. I skipped chow so I could get a good place in line. I came in as 1700 and was Number 5 but it took me all the way to 1830 to get out of there. I got myself a G.I. haircut Company A style but it doesn't look bad. The barber went easy on me. I can still comb it in parts. The corporal says with my office work I will probably get away with it being a little longer than the rest.
Well the last two days which I spent entirely in the office are over and beginning Wed. I must split my time once again. I have a suspicion that this week may be the last week of any work with the Company and my entire time will be devoted to understudying Cpl. Censky.
Hey, I didn't get any mail today! And I lost a coke on it. I was sure I couldn't miss getting at least one letter.
The other fellows were out on the proving grounds today learning how to dynamite. They set off quite a few sticks which we could hear back at Regimental.
I have exactly $1.30 left to my name. 50¢ goes for my pants this Sunday. If we don't get paid on the 10th and if I get a weekend pass this week, I won't be able to do much in Medford. I'll just have carfare there.
I have been spending altogether too much money on candy bars, malted milks, etc. From this moment on I am going into one of my periods of money saving. Not one penny is going to be spent on myself unless it is a necessity.
We are going on the overnight bivouac on Friday. I only hope we find some dry ground to sleep on.
I was busy all day long writing out pay books for the Company.
My friend Reuben B. Blumenfeld has been fired from his office job. I hope that doesn't happen to me. All the fellows are jealous of my good fortune in getting out of the lousy part of basic training. Even the Corporals say they are the guys who would give their right eyes to be in my boots. I only hope my good luck continues.
My writing is so scribbled and thoughts so disconnected that I better quit until I can compose a better letter. It's almost 2100 and I am tired --- I'm going to hit the hay. I have a lot of accumulated small talk which I can't think of when I hurry like this so it will have to wait.
Incidentally, there is some relative (an uncle or cousin) of that little girl in Company C of the 353rd. I just happened to be glancing thru the mail and the name George Svolos popped up at me. So what, huh?
There is a fellow (a Pfc) who runs a jeep for Hqs. who is the spitting image of George Prokopec. The only difference is the voice, the teeth, and the actions. The Blond hair, blue eyes, wide mouth, nose, square jaws, height, thinness, smirk are all there. I hope I will be able to take his picture some day so can see for yourself.