Camp White, Oregon
7 February 1943
Dear Aunty Clara;
Here it is, 9:30 at night, and I am first now going to write more letters. I started to work and I felt I wanted to clear up certain things right then and there. I also fell asleep after chow and slept until 8:00 from 5:30. That means I will have a pretty restless night tonight unless I get to bed rather late. At least I will be sure of one thing this week when I have to work late every night --- and that is my weekend was one of rest for a change.
I have often wished to remark about several things about camp life which I always have the habit of forgetting when I sit down to write the letters. One thing which is strange about living in an Army camp is that you do not get, all through the night, that continual harmony of sound as you do in a big city. There is none of the floating music in the air. By that I mean you never hear music coming through an open window from a nearby tavern, the neighbor's radio down on the next block etcetera.
Isn't it funny the way our fellow human beings can throw us off our track? Here I was ready to sit down and gently philosophize and comment on these odds and ends when one of the buglers comes into Regimental and begins reading out loud to no one in particular, humorous extracts from "See Here, Private Hargrove!" And then two more fellows begin a conversation on fighting in Guadalcanal, Africa, etcetera.
So I will simply begin answering some of my other mail which will take less concentration.
I also feel a good stomach ache coming on. You see, when I receive your cookies on Sunday there aren't many people here in the office and the majority of the rations go down no other stomach than your little shaver's. So you have no doubt as to why I apprehend a bit of gastronomic difficulty, do you?
By the way, I noticed from the last clipping "On the Home Front" that Paul Derringer, of the Cincinnati Reds, and a star pitcher will soon become a member of that great bush league team called the Chicago Cubs. You can bet your bottom dollar that if he does, he will have one of his worst seasons just around the corner. Isn't that the way it works with the Dubs?
I am going to write letters from now until around 11 or 12 o'clock with the intention of limiting them to one page and double spacing as many of the letters as possible. After all if I do not answer the letters within the week, I may not have the opportunity to do so until much time will have elapsed.
Private Harvey was severely called down by Sgt Driscoll this morning for not reporting for work last night. Driscoll does not know that I did not work either. Nevertheless, he gave Harvey orders that he must work unless I give him permission to do otherwise and if Driscoll agrees. These are the orders I gave him today: Write personal letters until 2:00 and then we will work until 4:30. I then told him he can have the entire evening off. (After all if you work a fellow all day and all night on a Sunday, what is he going to be good for the next day all tired out?)