Dear Elizabeth,
Well, we’re leaving here today.
I have not received any mail from anyone up to this time of writing. If you haven’t yet, why just hold it until you hear from me further. I don’t know where I’m going. There are all sorts of rumors but no one really knows.
I’ve been through what the boys call “The Mill” — that is, outfitted, examined, and interviewed along with an IQ test. This is to classify the men as to intelligence.
I was given three shots this morning so I feel a bit off “high gear.” My right arm is a bit sore but that will go away soon.
I’m feeling fine. We have reveille at 4:30 am, 1/2 hour to dress and make bunks. We then stand out in the Company street for roll call. Mess is at 5:30 and details are at 6:30.
I was assigned to a detail at the Quartermasters Supply Store. My job was to measure the men’s feet as they stood back against a pole. There was an army regulation chart right on the floor. I merely put their heels back well against the block and yelled out their size to a sergeant. They were then issued socks. Well, as I was going along and getting weary, somewhere around the thousandth man, one guy yells down, “Hello Michael!” It was Harry Black, a draftee. Was I surprised. I haven’t seen him since as the draftees got pushed right through.
Please write me now, when you get my new address. I mailed my letter to you last Saturday night. I’ve gone to confession so I’m ready for what comes.
Give my regards to the folks at home. I miss you terribly. This is 100% different from civilian life. I get pretty tired at night from a full days work so I retire at 9pm – lights out.
Keep writing and send me your picture on a reduced scale. I’ll write again soon.
Bye Darling
With love, Peter
You must log in to post a comment.