Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
July 19, 1943

Dear Aunty Clara,

We saw another USO show this afternoon. It was composed of three performers. One was the MC, the other a western style guitar player, and the third was a comic juggler. It seems that being able to juggle three balls in the air or by hitting them on the ground is a paying business these days. That is the third time the USO shows have presented jugglers as part of the act. Come to think of it, I have only seen three USO shows. Nevertheless, this fellow was a bit different in that he purposely made mistakes and joked about it. Thruout his entire act, he kept saying that he wasn't any good although he was alright.

By the way, I received the two birthday cards from both you and Aunty Florence today. Thank you. It seems that the airmail comes along just as fast as the V-mail does because just yesterday I received V-mail dated the 6th of July and the birthday cards were dated the 7th.

Lately the PX has been selling beer. This has caused quite a sensation among the boys who like their liquor. This afternoon it so happened that Larry, Edie, Censky and I were all sitting in the tent together when Edie offered everyone a can of beer. As I had just finished a box of crackers, I welcomed the wash down. A few swallows of beer when one is thirsty can very easily be put down the hatch devoid of the usual grimacing, etc. However, when they saw the way I drank it almost in one swallow (to keep from tasting the stuff), they offered me two more cans thinking to get me under the weather. I told them that I knew my limit (from the spree at the Melody Mill last Spring) and that three cans of beer would have no effect on me. They insisted and laughed that same laugh that Aunt-Aunt and I laughed when we were bringing the lamb to the slaughter. I decided I would show them they were wrong at their expense and promptly downed the now tasteless beer. Naturally, nothing happened, the laugh was on them and they were out of drinks. They think that just because I do not like those supposedly more manly things of life that I am a sissy. They simply do not realize that my tastes are different than theirs.

My conscience is beginning to bother me for not writing a letter a day to some other person besides you. That wouldn't be much compared to the volume I turned out in the beginning of the letter writing but it would still be enough to let the others know I still remembered them and hadn't gone high hat or something. I owe Tommy and George letters for so long it isn't even funny. And then there is that letter to Bob Hesser which has been hanging fire these many weeks. Then there are answers to my dad, Eleanor and Mrs. Boyer. Besides those there are the occasional letters to others who would probably like getting a word just once in a blue moon such as Mr. Hutchinson, Mr. Drews, the Eublers, the Fialas, Mary K, Marie the Infiestas, etc. And of course Jimmy and Dr. Kolar. I wonder if they would be satisfied with a short hand written V-mail instead of these filled-in typewritten ones. It actually is difficult at times to fill these short forms up because there are so many things which for various reasons must be left unsaid.

I've noticed that magazine after magazine has articles condemning the black market and warning people to have no association with them. Yet how are you to know whether your butcher deals with the black market or not. The ugly word "suspicion" looms up to confront one after reading those articles. Is the National Tea Butcher on the up and up? How do you know? It seems that some pretty terrible diseases can be passed on thru the use of the black market meat.

It seems that Ray Gradler timed his tattoo call to coincide with the closing of this letter because he is blowing it while I am typing this sentence.