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

Dear Aunty Clara,
Christmas Day

What I didn't have room to write in the first letter was of the difficulty I have been having in typing these letters today. After I had finished typing the address on your letter, I decided to shell one of the nuts we received for dinner. It couldn't be cracked open and I had to use a knife to complete the job. Unfortunately for me I maneuvered my fingers into such a position that when the knife slipped, it pushed right thru the tip of my middle finger of my left hand like butter.

It bled like a fountain and I sucked the wound clean only to see the blood ooze out again. Much against my principles, I went to the medics first aid station for treatment. After a few playful words that it was Christmas and that they were not open for business as per the Colonel's orders. They then went to work on the finger. First I got a bawling out from the Doctor (Captain) for sucking it. He said that there are more germs in my mouth than on my hand. That sickened me because the reason I had done that was to clean the wound of dirt.

He further cheers me up by saying it was a terrible cut and would have to have something strong put on it to burn down to the bottom to get rid of the germs I sucked into the wound. That would make me remember never to do that again.

But now guess what I almost did? The brave soldier, Roman F Klick, felt a black-out coming on and had to stoop over. Immediately the doctor had me sit in the chair with my head down low while he rubbed the back of my neck. That is the advantage in having fainted at other times in my life, I now can anticipate the condition by recognizing the symptoms. I felt foolish but what else could I do but make a worse fool out of myself by standing up and letting all the blood rush out of my head until I keeled over. If I ever find myself in combat, it is going to be just awful; I'll faint every time I get a little scratch.

Please do not repeat this story outside of you and Aunty Florence because it is getting embarrassing to continual tell people how subject you are to fainting spells. No one in the company knows how close I came to it today and I'm not telling anyone, even Larry because I'm getting so mad at myself for that fault and do not care to be kidded about it.

The end result is that the finger is now bandaged up and of no use to me whatsoever in this typing. I have to strike the 3, the e, the d, the c and the # with the same finger which strikes the ", 2 w, s and x. Occasionally, I forget to bring it over in time and misspell the work. You will realize what is happening now. It is a good thing that I do not have to work for the next few days while the finger rests up.

There has been an intermission between the last words and these while I went to see the movie "Tennessee Johnson". As anticipated, it turned out to be one of the best movies we have had here in a long time. It was all about his start in politics up thru the time the impeachment trial took place. Lionel Barrymore played a good part as Thaddeus Stevens the slavery hater. What surprised me was that the picture showed Johnson as coming back to the Senate as Senator from Tennessee after his tenure in the White House was over.

We are all back in the tent now and just had a little excitement as on of those big walking sticks began flying around the room. Each fellow shooed it away from his cot but didn't seem to want to kill it. When I went over and killed it they kidded me for being afraid of it. Still in all I didn't see them trying to get close to the thing. Besides it wouldn't be very comfortable to have that thing landing all over you unexpectedly.

The fellows don't know I'm just about finished with this letter and even though they are still dressed up, they think I'm going to pound the typewriter far into the night as I do on other nights and they want to know how they are going to get any sleep.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman