October 13th 1943, Dear Harriet: “One of the Lieutenants in my sector just walked in and handed me a Tom Collins. That’s the kind of fellows I work with. Damn swell people I say. I feel a bit better now.”

North Africa

13 October  1943

Dear Harriet;

Although the hour is late and Morpheous bids me come to the sack, I’m still going to get off a few lines to a certain Miss Harriet tonight. The officers are having a whooping big party at the time of this writing and the place of their celebrations is right next to my office here. The sound of the music and the dancing, oh yes they have women, puts me in a melancholy mood. I dream of the places where such things are going on in a big way somewhere, someplace far, far away. How long will it be until we see all this again? I don’t know and sometimes I don’t care.

One of the Lieutenants in my sector just walked in and handed me a Tom Collins. That’s the kind of fellows I work with. Damn swell people I say. I feel a bit better now.

Let’s see, where the heck were we? Oh yes, I was in some sort of a mood wasn’t I. Well let’s get out of it what do you say.

Blast these guys, do they have to come in here with their girls. This tent is beginning to look like the Grand Central Station. You know there ought to be a law against such things. I don’t mind them having a party but they don’t have to bring it over here. How the devil can anyone think with all this going on. What a time I picked to write you a letter. Well you’ll just have to bear with me cause I’m going to see this through to the end.

It’s no use, I can’t no more think of what I’m doing here chewing my arm off. Hold on, make it three now, another one just walked in. Why don’t you go away – no not you, I mean these pests along side of me. Of course they know who I am writing to and they insist that I say hello. Will you accept greetings from three nameless individuals. You will, well bless your heart, they don’t deserve it.

I just heard that they are serving chicken tonight at the party, as a matter of fact my nose told me that a long time ago. I could smell the stuff cooking, I beg your pardon, frying down at the mess kitchen. I was corrected by one of the boys here, he is a cook. Sister, you just don’t know how it pays to keep on the good side of these boys – know what I mean. Just tried to put a little deal over whereby I would sort of stroll down past the mess hall and my pal here would slip me a piece of chicken. Haven’t been able to sell him on the idea but I think he is weakening a little. If this fails I’m going to corner one of the officers and ask him to bring me back a piece. All of a sudden I got a craving for chicken – fried chicken. Before this night is over I feel that I am going to commit some terrible deed. My appetite must be appeased.

I must end this horrible example of a letter before it gets worse, if that’s possible. Oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you about this handkerchief, It’s a little souvenir that I picked up in Tunis while window-shopping. It isn’t much but it is something one can send in a letter. Anyway you’ll know that I’m thinking about you. I don’t know as it has any practical use. I wouldn’t try to blow my nose in it if I were you – what am I saying. Forgive me for being crude.

Now I’ll say hello to the folks and a goodnight kiss from me to you. Oh what’s the difference, make it two this time. Do you think you know me well enough?

Still waiting for that picture…….

Loads of Love,

Roy

 

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