Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 73
c/o PM SF Cal
Dear Aunty Clara,
It is finished - all my back letter writing is caught up. With a last surprising bit of energy I knocked off four letters, the last three of which I thought were going to be so tough but weren't. They were to Dolores, Eleanor and Patricia. To Eleanor I wrote two pages of closely written V-mail and to Pat I sent the only airmail of the bunch. Three pages of writing plus the picture of Ericksen and myself. Now I'll be able to sit back and take things easy for a spell. Of course, I'll have to send out some notes with my change of address but they will not have to be letters. If I can only continue to answer them, I'll soon be the recipient of quite a bit of mail in addition to your daily V-mail letters and that will suit me to a T since it is rather disappointing to watch a deluge of air and free mail come in without one single one in it for me.
Yesterday I read a book I picked up entitled "Johnnie" and it was a screwball affair about a soldier from Texas who wants to see New York City but ends up in a ring of ex-European kings, queens, princesses & princes who are plotting to get control of their countries after Hitler is kicked out. It gets all so mixed up no one knows who is on whose side and trying to find out the answer is enough to keep a person interested even if the book was pretty corny otherwise. It was written by the author of "The Fallen Sparrow" - you remember that picture with Maureen O'Hara & Burgess Meredith concerning all those Nazi spies in New York City. O well, a fellow gets desperate for reading material and will take up any book or magazine that comes along.
Four candy bars were my total consumption yesterday which once again is a new low. Even they weren't so good on account of because the Hershey's chocolate had melted so much that people would say "What're you doing drinking a chocolate soda?"
For some reason or another the guys were in a talkative mood last night and by being polite and sociable I got myself soaked thru and thru for two hours in the hold, fully clothed & talking makes a fellow sweat profusely. I'm a regular hypocrite for I talk to the person telling me his life history, I ask him questions and frown or laugh, as the case may be, in the right places, but in the meantime my mind keeps talking to him saying "For gosh sakes, cut the gab, I've not the slightest interest in what you are saying and just because you are in a talkative mood I don't know why I should stand here in the hold & sweat." About six fellows all told stopped to talk. I don't mind a long conversation while talking in a cool breeze by the side of the rail or while sitting or lying down on the deck but otherwise no.
There is still one item which I just recalled not having taken care of and that is a graduation card for Pat. I've finally gotten an idea (bad as it is) of printing in cockeyed block letters "Congratulations on your Graduation, Pat" & then draw a diploma with a ribbon rolled around it. Time will tell.
In the meantime I think I had better get to work since the clerks are beginning to arrive and that means getting ye olde morning reports out.
So-long, /s/ Roman
Editor's note (December 2004): Letter written aboard ship on May 11, 1945