Sunday, March 4, 1945

Dearest Gee.

Well, well, what do you know, a Sunday off for a change. I’m really catching up on some shut-eye and rest. I got your swell St. Patrick’s Day card and letter, honey. You don’t forget any holiday, do you? Glad to hear I have seven boxes on the way but can’t for the life of me imagine what the devil could be in them. Or did you mean seven between Chick and me. That would sound more like it. The first item you mentioned as sending sure sounded good. I’ll have two or three on you.

I saw the Pettit kid day before yesterday. He’s no kid — he’s about six foot six. He looks pretty good, and has a good deal with the company. I think he is some kind of a company clerk or thereabouts. Seems like a nice guy but as we were on a problem I couldn’t stop long to talk with him.

Didn’t get any letter from anyone today. Yesterday I got a letter from faithful old Coe. One thing about her, she writes whether I answer them or not.

I hope those two Yank magazines get there okay. Didn’t have enough material at hand to fix them very well. Let me know when you get the fifty fish too.

This is one of those kind of days that is my favorite time of the year. In the old days we would probably have been out for a joy ride some place. Remember that pre-induction ride me and you took to Kentucky that day? And the time the bear chased you in and out of the car? Those were the days, weren’t they? We’ll have some more and better ones in the future.

Honey, I’d like to make this a longer letter but there just isn’t anything to write about. I got a haircut from Rizzi this morning and haven’t done a thing since. Had a good dinner tho.

Sure do love you and miss you. Hope I see you soon.

So long now.


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