Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
July 20, 1943
Dear Aunty Clara,
The picture for the evening was scheduled to be "Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman" which most of the regiment saw back in Camp White. However, at the last minute there was a change and the picture shown was "A Yank at Eton" with Mickey Rooney. It was fair entertainment and better than seeing a picture over again.
Remember the lead pencil you sent to me several months ago? Well, I lost it last night and I haven't been able to locate it since then. What gets me peeved is that it really wasn't my fault but was the fault of my fatigue clothes. I traded Farley my two-piece set for his one piece outfit and the darn thing hasn't any buttons on the breast pockets. Evidently the pencil just fell out sometime during the course of the day. I've already caught one of my fountain pens laying on the ground and another time in the act of falling out of the pocket. Since I discovered the loss of the pencil I have been particularly careful with the pens.
My corner of the tent is getting to look more like home every day. Today I built a duckboard to run along the side of my cot and in front of my cabinet. In case you don't know what duckboards are, I will describe them. The one I built consists of five wooden slats about four feet long nailed on three two by fours which act as a base. It almost looks like the top of those chicken coops in which butchers used to display the hens in outside his shop. In addition to the duckboards, I rigged up a wire clothesline and immediately initiated it with my latest bit of laundering.
Speaking of laundering reminds me about the handkerchiefs which I left out on the line ever since the very first time I washed my dirty clothes. I had thought that I brought them in and several times during the past weeks fellows have asked if they were mine. Just out of curiosity I took a look at them today and was stunned to discover that all eight of them belonged to me. The bugs had already started to nest in them and it looks as if I will have to rewash them.
According to the latest bulletin the chaplain is supposed to have several French grammars on hand which he will sell at cost. Tomorrow I am going to investigate the situation and if it is worth the while, I will see if somehow I can't get hold of one. The other day two French speaking children and their father walked into our PX to buy something and although I could hear their voices distinctly, I could not understand what they were saying. The accent with which they speak is quite different than that of Miss Belle yet one can see the similarity. It is a pleasing accent.
A rough draft of the letter to Bob Hesser is now completed. After a few more changes I will type it on V-mail and sent it off to him. The reason I had to take time to really compose his letter is obvious. I can't hide the fact that I was home on furlough yet I must explain to him how I happened to go back without seeing him. I know that if I were he, I would be hurt unless I knew that circumstances had prevented the meeting and not personal desires.
Another thing I wrote which will rather astound you is a short article on "what qualities my wife must have". Coming from one who was an avowed bachelor, it is quite strange, yet it appalled me to think how many people get married without ever even knowing each other, so I decided that I was going to write a little credo which would be a good thing to follow if I ever think I have found the right girl. I'll look it over a few more times and then maybe I'll send it home so that both you and Aunty Florence can spend some quiet evening rollicking in laughter at some of my quaint ideas.