June 2, 1941
I felt better than I have ever felt when I left you at the train. I want to see you off whenever you must leave me. I sprayed this paper with perfume—before writing—but it is just as difficult to keep the writing from blurring. I'm in a terrific hurry as I worked until 6:15 this evening and I promised my mother I would definitely be out this evening. It's rather late now and i want to get to bed early. Jake is going to go to Logan with me. I'll write you a nice letter tomorrow with all the details of tonight's happenings. I have a good notion to tear this letter up and write you a neat one (for a change) but I don't want to waste the perfume. I got the stamps for you, sweet, and I didn't have to pay for them either. I love you, baby and I'll write tomorrow. Love and Regards from all.
P.S. How's the money, ’er pardon me, chicken feet holding out
Monday, June 2— 6:10 P.M.
Arrived shortly after 11 and went immediately to bed. The weather this morning was cloudy and drizzling, but it was a welcome change from the hot sun. The training schedule was later than usual, too. I think we're over the toughest part of our training until maneuvers. No one knows exactly when they begin or how long they'll be right now. The weather is cool and comfortable. No one here seems to mind the absence of the sun. There's very little of interest I can write, so you'll excuse me if I cut this would-be letter short. There are a few things I would like to get done before I retire. I'm hoping you're writing at the same time as I. Received no mail today from anyone. You may be glad to know that I can't get the picture of how you looked last night out of my mind. You were never lovelier, sweet. By the way, when do I get that picture? The fellows are going to work on Lil's candy and I'm trying to keep pace. So I better concentrate on it if I'm to get my share. So long until tomorrow, dear. Regards and love to all.