Dearest Gee.
Guess it’s about time I took my pen in hand and wrote you a few lines.
You know somebody ought to make a different map of Italy because on every map it shows level places and there really isn’t any. All I can see is mountains. And what mountains! Sure would like to see a little patch of Illinois again. How is every little thing there? Hope you are still alright. I managed to snag a pretty good cold but it’s in its last stages now.
Who’s winning the war? Us’n or they’n? Sure will be glad when this dang thing is over with.
My candy and everything finally dwindled out. I ate the last yesterday. It was a package of those walnettos. Pretty tasty. I haven’t received any more packages. Maybe I’ve got them all, suppose? The last packages I got were the three cartons of cigarettes from Dad and the candy, books, and eats from Es + Harry. Sum total of twelve packages I believe. No use in sending any more cigarettes. We get them issued to us all the time.
This letter will have to be short because I haven’t got a whole lot to write about. I’m fine. Sure hope you all can say that. Sure could use a snort of Mattingly and Moore about now. Got any?
Sure love you and miss you. Be good.
So long.
Snook
Letters From Snook 