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

Dear Aunty Clara,

I believe that I accomplished quite a bit today. I wrote a two page letter to George, a letter to Bob Hesser, another to Tommy Mashos and a fourth to Marie Volenec. I tried to write letters to Ray and Eleanor but just couldn't get into the mood for their letters. That is just about one of the best jobs I have done in a long while. Still to be written to are: Ray, El, and the Milwaukee precincts.

In mail call today I received two letters from you dates the 15th and 16th. You thought I was going to get it "but good" about Lana Turner, eh? Well, I don't think I mentioned this but the other night at the Company B show, Goldenberg cracked some joke about Lana Turner and I yelled up to the stage "Strike that from the record." He looked, saw it was me and sailed into me for fair. Over the public address system he says "O, that's Klick. Klick, from Company A. Why you should see the collection of Lana Turner pictures he has. He has them in his tent, in his foot locker, on the wall, in his desk, why, he even takes a picture of Lana Turner to bed with him underneath his pillow so he can dream about her all night. Yes, that's him, who's saying strike that from the record. Alright, remember, no more jokes about Lana Turner." He had me in stitches because the crowd thought I would be mortified by having him speak out like that but I laughed myself sick at the way he kept putting it on. They kid me about that all day long no matter where I go in the regiment and I think I am having more fun than they are because it is myself who started the joke in the first place about me writing to Lana Turner and all that. If you have sent any pictures, they will have something more to keep them entertained because I will tell them I received it from her in answer to my letter.

So you still have some of the 1939 grape jelly left. That is from the second year you made it, isn't it? I remember that first year you made jelly, I was alongside of you talking every step of the way. And then we (did you get that - even in my letters I unconsciously say we although I was just around to disturb you) made the peach jelly and what was it a sort of crab apple jelly. Gee, how I wish I was home right now (Sunday evening, ten o'clock) with a loaf of bread, a quart of milk and a jar of jelly. That would be real living.

Thanks for fixing up the batteries, bulbs, newspapers and the old flashlights. I will thank you for them more formally as a Christmas present the day they arrive.

I'm afraid I didn't make myself clear on that lipstick-kiss-on-paper proposition. This one was the real thing on an air mail letter. She must have kissed the paper and then smeared lipstick over the outline. All you had to do was hold the sheet of paper in normal reading position and you could catch the smell. Larry received word from his wife in today's mail, also, concerning that kiss. You see, he raved about it so much that she got sarcastic and asked him how come he never became so ecstatic about the lipstick when he was home.

Wouldn't it be nifty to be home for Christmas? The age of miracles are over, though, and I guess one furlough is going to have to last the duration of the war. That would be a fine trick for me to come home and leave the Christmas package now on its way, unopened. I guess I'll have to stay on the island so as to be here to receive it.

The show this evening was "White Cargo" with Walter Pidgeon and Hedy LaMarr. It wasn't a bad picture but it wasn't good either. Our baseball team won another game and it looks as if that one defeat about a month or so back is the only one that they are going to have.

I must be getting forgetful in my dotage because Lt Podelwitz had me paged into the Orderly room so that I could put your address on the outside of the V-mail. It just wasn't there. That is the second time I have forgotten to address the outside so I'll have to start getting myself on the ball and checking the letters for addresses before putting them in the mail box.

/s/ Roman