Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
July 6, 1943
Dear Aunty Clara,
At last I have gotten around to writing my old girl friend, Dolores, a letter. The last letter that passed between us was received by me on March 10, 1943. I never did answer that letter but had looked forwards to answering it in person when I was home on furlough. It was too bad that she had to be on the West Coast at that time. And then ever since then I have been meaning to write but never did until today. You know, I've been thinking that maybe I have seen Dolores for the last time. If the war lasts any length of time it is almost a cinch that she will not be working at RH&R and it is highly improbable that I will ever see her any other place. Yet I hate to give up writing to her because you yourself know how interesting her letters are.
It is rather late at night and I just came in from the big tent where Rizzo, the cook in Company B, is playing on the piano. I have probably mentioned from time to time that he is a born musician and there doesn't seem to be any instrument which he cannot play. His ambition is to become accustomed to any instrument and equally adept at all so that when the war is over he will be able to land a job as a musician without any trouble at all. He plays by ear and he plays well. Another fellow who plays the piano well is Simanoff of H&S Company and today, just as back in the Service Club at Camp White, you will chance upon him every so often sitting at the piano pounding out semi-classical and swing music by the hour. And today I discovered one more such key tinkler. It was none other than the new Sgt Cava who was having a grand time in the big tent all by himself. I rather envy those fellows who can play a piano because that is the one instrument I would like to play.
We've been having a swell time in the tent lately with Larry and I kidding the living daylights out of Edie and Mersing while they do the same to us. One of the favorite tricks: For instance, Edie bought a box of candy and left it there unopened. We left a note with the suggestion that his friends might be hungry too. About an hour ago there was an empty candle box on my cabinet with a note saying you might as well have the box too. It was his turn to rib us for letting him use up a box of his candles while we seemingly saved ours.
Larry and I went for a swim this afternoon just before chow and the water was anything but warm. I would have liked to have made it across the river but my muscles in the feet were just a wee bit on the cramping side so I played it safe and stuck close to shore. Do you realize that what might be called a safe cramp which I had in the pool at 56th may be saving my life today by making me cautious about things like that.
I just thought of a story which is rather strange. A fellow told it to me just before we left the United States and although I didn't have a chance to write it down after that I wanted to remember it so that someday I could. It isn't very long but I won't have the room for it on this form so look for it in tomorrow's letter.