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

Dear Aunty Clara,

I received your letter of November 24th today. Good grief, do the Bradley's still live in the city? I suppose though, that this being wartime and the housing condition being what it is, they will have to be content with what ever they can get hold of even if it is miles and miles form civilization and without a telephone.

In your letter you mention Myrtle taking part of her vacation she still had coming and a few days ago you mentioned my Dad taking another two weeks. What is this business of vacations in November. I thought I was a precedent breaker by taking my vacation either after Labor Day or in the first part of May. They are going one better by taking off in the winter time.

So you had a turkey for Thanksgiving after all. As a general rule, it seems that when Uncle Joe says he will bring something home on a certain day he usually does it. I guess a twenty pound gobler is pretty big because the ones from Ackermann's were large turkeys and they only got up to sixteen pounds at the most.

You know, I was going to give that leather coat away to Miss Austin of the NYA in Morton that semester I worked on the Register's Office but I think it was you who said not to. I hardly think I would wear that coat again myself because I was fitted to it when I was fourteen years old and it is a bit of a squeeze to fit into it now. Maybe you can find an ad in The Cicero Life asking for just such a coat. Or better yet, maybe you could give it to the Eubler's boys, either Freddie or Tommie. Another idea even though Renee is a girl, in a few years time she might want just such a coat to knock around in. I know that even though Pat is a fastidious dresser she still wore her brother's coat and lumberjacket.

Earlier today I was peeved at quite a few things and people but now I can't remember who or what they were for the life of me. I must have been in a grouchy mood and not realized it. Because I got to bed just before twelve o'clock last night, I was a bit sleepy this morning and I took a short nap during our lunch hour today which is really an hour long on Saturday's.

No additional letters were written by yours truly after finishing last night's letter but I took time off this morning for about five minutes or so to write Aunty Florence a short note.

Roman F. Burkard is our mail clerk once again. This is a relief for most of the company, since Hill didn't have the voice to call out the mail. As far as I'm concerned it will not make much difference since Hill used to leave our mail in the Orderly Room anyway. Both Burkard and Hill, when they sort through the mail, take out the letters which belong to the overhead such as clerks, cooks, supply men and the fellows on special duty or in the hospital.

This morning we had the inspection of all inspections. The Colonel himself went around to all then tents to look them over. It is surprising, though, that when the big boy goes around, hardly anyone gets gigged but when the preliminary inspections were made by the Battalion Adjutant, there were quite a few complaints and gigs.

Some fellow played a dirty trick on me today. It wasn't until after I had seated myself at the mess hall table and went to take a drink of the ice cold (and delicious) lemonade that I noticed all the particles floating around in the cup. Some guy had broken a cigarette and all the tobacco right in it and I had never even looked inside it. That is the second time something on this order has happened. The last time I found a lot of junk in my mess kit. That is going too far in carrying out practical jokes.

Incidentally, one of my good khaki shirts has a torn sleeve. It is the one I wore home on furlough and which you sewed on that star. S/Sgt Cooper and Pfc Edie and I were tussling playfully last night and the sleeve ripped on a nail point which extended thru our new door.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman