Produced by Michelle Croyle, William Flis, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
R.E.S., whose Suggestions made these pages possible and palatable.
IN CAMP (Somewhere between the Kitchen and the lunch counter).
Well, hear I am in camp after being "rough-housed on the rattlers" for 1 day and 2 nites; I was so shook-up that I'm like a loose button on an overcoat--no wheres in particular.
The most vivid impression in my bean is our interview in the hall-way of your flat the night (or was it morning) when we bid each other a fond fare-thee-well. Never will I forget them tender and loving words you spoke, also will I remember them words spoke, by the guy on the second floor, NOT so tender; how was we to know you were backed up against the push button of his bell? When a boob like him lives in a flat in wartime he ought to be made to muffle his bell after 10 p.m. I'm gonna rite the Pres. about this.
Our going away was some deeparture; I'll bet a small piece of change that every fair young damsel on the block was present--and some damsels not so young and fair. The old maid who grabbed onto me had seen about 40 summers and heavings knows how many winters; she was so crosseyed that if she had pulled a weep the tears would have run down the back of her neck. It was her last chance to grab a man and believe you me, she made use of the opportunity.
Well angel face, here I am a buck private fur fair, but believe you me, I'd rather be a private with a chicken on my knee than a kernel with an eagle on my shoulder; and I'd rather have any shoulder on a bar than a bar on my shoulder any time.
P.S.--I don't know why they call us dough boys, for thirty per aint much "dough," is it angel face?
[Illustration: "How wuz I to know you wuz agin the push button of his bell."]
Many thanks, my cherrie (that's French), fur the lovely cake you sent me, but believe you me deary, I didn't get a smell of it. I got the box about 6 p.m. opened it at 6;01, and at 6;01½ our band played the Star Spangled Banner and all us fellows had to stand at attention; by the time they had finished, our company mascot, a billy goat camouflaged with a bunch of whiskers and an unshaven glue factory breath gobbled the whole blooming business.