Christmas Day, 1943.
Just finished Xmas dinner, and if you all fared as well, then you have no kick coming. We had turkey, potatoes, corn, peas, mixed pickles, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, coffee, bread and butter, and hard candies. Wow! I'm so full, I don't care if I never eat again. This afternoon I'm going to clean up the surplus papers laying around for filing and then take it easy the rest of the afternoon. Later in the evening, I intend to write to Red and mail off the other five pictures. There was no mail again yesterday, and today being Xmas, there is no delivery or posting of mail. My last two letters are still waiting to go out. If the mail is unusually slow in reaching you, Chippie, you'll understand why. All in all, I've only received two letters in the past week, yours of the 14th, and Dotty's of the 9th. I have already answered Dot’s letter, that is, there was a letter on the way to her when she wrote, and I answered yours last night. This has been a very quiet Xmas for me, and consequently I’m rather it a loss for words. Too, my last two letters covered just about everything I had to say for the time being, and I'm very much afraid that you'll have to be content with a few lines of V-mail for the next few days. I may have a furlough coming up within the next two or three weeks, Sweet, so you'll understand why I'm not sending you any money this month. Truth is, I don't know exactly what I'll need, so I'll hold onto whatever I have leftover and send it along next month. Of course this is all subject to your immediate need of the money. If you really cannot do without it or need it for something more important than my furlough, let me know immediately and I'll send it along. You needn’t caution me to be sparing with my funds—I'm naturally inclined to be anyway. The higher the amount I can send you, the better I feel about it. Until tomorrow, darling. I am your ever lovin’