Is Bill really in India?

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June 29, 1944

Dear Bill,

I’m taking you at your word -!

By process of much serious though on the matter I’ve decided you must have gone to India. (Now tell me you are in Italy or something and let me scream.)  Your flying and stuff makes better sense that way.  Lucky thing.  I get so darn homesick – and so utterly ill of this unholy dump – I’d practically give my eyes to get out.  And here you get a trip by plane all free and everything.  Ah me!

The suspense is positively grueling.  I’m crazy to know where you’ll be and what you’ll be doing, etc. The curious type you know!

As I keep impressing on you nothing ever happens here.  In fact it even goes so far as to do the reverse of happening.  What I’m trying to build up to – unsuccessfully – is that in spite of all my mathematical figures on having 1 in 20 chances I didn’t win a single thing in that bond raffle thing.  (Thing, thing – how singularly expressive! Pardon it!   It’s the temperature – abut 90 and I’m not just exaggerating either.)  If there had been only one stud besides mine it would have come up.  I bechaha!  My luck, you know.

We’ve been feverishly picking cherries the last couple of days.  Mother has 100 odd pints stored away now.  Pardon me while I quietly turn into a cherry.  When I was up in one of the trees yesterday I had a perfectly huge branch give way under me.  No kidding it was as big around as my leg.  I keep telling people it was an old tree but they just look faintly skeptical and I have to sneak away shamefaced.  It was decidedly one of my bad moments.

Thank goodness I’m getting out of here next week.  If I don’t turn into a cherry it’ll be a rubber fitting.  I see them in my sleep now.  Oh well, I’m worth a cent a minute now so I should be thankful.  And it’s all helping to win the war.  (You must get tired of hearing this little routine.  I think I’ve said it before some place.)  As a parting shot I quote my foreman – and W.C. Fields who had said it first – favorite remark: “work fascinates me.  I can sit and look at it for hours.”  I shall wear it in a locket round my neck.

Gads, but I ramble.  Excuse it please.  It’s really just the heat.  I’d tear this up but time is fleeting and I wouldn’t get another written for ages.  Bye now!

As ever,
Dorothy



APO space 13135
c/o  Postmaster
New York,  N.Y.
July 6,  1944

Dear Dorothy,

Tomorrow will be the beginning of the second week in this wonderful land of enchantment where the cow is sacred and beggars roam the streets. You can’t realize how wonderful it is to be here again. I have time for this Army life by talking to the Indians, the soldiers here are rather amazed at me being able to talk Hindustani. I haven’t been assigned to any special place yet but expect to get near Stan's or Soupie's  home. I wired my folks as soon as I got here but I haven’t heard from them yet. I imagine they will be quite surprised. Be sure that the hinges on those doors you’re working on are in good and tight. I notice a lot of loose ones on the ship I came over on.

As ever,  Bill

 

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