Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/o PM SF Cal
5 August 1944

Dear Aunty Clara,
Saturday Night

The time is an unheard of eleven-thirty and this is the first time I've been writing anything since typing out the air mail at noon. A lot good my promises and such do me if I just ignore them. The story behind my not writing anything this evening is no story at all and is really inexcusable for I was up here in the office for the most part of the evening and didn't do anything but read magazines and talk to the fellows. The entire situation falls back on that inspection we had this evening. Something like that throws the kilter out of a well laid plan. You know the old strategy of having so much to do that I ended up by doing none of it, don't you? Well, that was the situation in this case as the inspection lasted until seven o'clock or at least that was about the time that the inspecting officer came thru the barracks and knowing full well that in the four hours remaining to me, it would be impossible to write all those letters, I just gave it up as a bad job. O yes, I did begin to write but after inserting the V-mail form in the typewriter I had to go out of the office for a few minutes. When I came back, I was surprised to find the machine gone and the V-mail form laid on the side. It seems as if they called Sackett to do some work and that machine was the only one available seeing as how Osis, Hipp, Leishman and Norona were all up in the office working their fool heads off. Then Captain Hanton asked that only necessary lights burn in the office while they were using another generator and I couldn't very well handwrite letters at my desk for my light was declared "unnecessary for the furtherment of the war effort". Those handicaps and obstacles were just a wee bit too much and I threw in the towel by taking an old copy of the Reader's Digest and thumbing thru that to see what items I had missed.

Between the hours of four and five I was talking to Jack Molyneaux, changing clothes and cleaning up my part of the barracks. Between five and six I was eating, chewing the fat down in the mess hall and taking Captain Cook's jeep down to the Motor Pool. While I was there at the Motor Pool, I investigated the situation about getting transportation for our jaunt tomorrow. Edie is the dispatcher and Burkard has gone out of that job to take over the one the one they had intended giving to Edie which was supply clerk for the heavy equipment section. Since Edie is more frail and light, they figured he would be better at the purely clerical job and that Burkard's muscles could be put to better use moving around some of that heavy equipment material which is no joke. Anyhow the situation looks bad at the present time without any weapons carrier or command cars available so that leaves only one and a half ton dump trucks and jeeps if they are available. Of course we have more fellows going than will fit conveniently in a jeep so we would have to cut our party down. I would rather have a weapons carrier but failing that I hope it is possible to get a jeep.

The water was fairly decent this evening as I mixed up a concoction of powdered milk, chocolate malt and had a drink. Either I lost my touch or something happened to the powder for the drink wasn't up to its old par although it wasn't bad. It is a simple operation to make just one cup even though I have all the ingredients mentioned here and yon. Within four minutes after deciding to make the drink, I was drinking it. If we go out tomorrow, we hope to remain away for the noon meal and for the purpose instead taking along a few cans of sardines and bread. If we do that, we might as well take along a five gallon tin of water plus the milk and egg beater so that we can have a good drink to go along with the sardine sandwiches. That is just a possibility. Nothing definite.

One thing which is definite though is that Monday evening we are going to have Bob Hope, Frances Langford and Jerry Colonna at the Navy Bowl theater. Of course, I doubt very much if we will be able to get a seat within sight of the stage but you can bet that we are going to try.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman