Apr. Sun. ’42
I am writing from the U.S.O. in Manhattan, Kan. I came in last night, bowled a couple of games, had a couple of beers and stayed here all night.
Got up this morning, shaved and went out and had breakfast—: . here I am.
It is raining a little out, I hope it clears up as they have a nice park here and I would like to go up to it.—It isn’t very big, about one square block I think, contains a swiming pool and a few trees, Ha.
Sometimes after I come down here I wish I hadn’t as I always feel more lonesome
and then I get the “blues”—Gee Honey—I sure do wish I
cu could be with you today.
I’m getting sick of staying around this dumb joint. We aren’t doing anything special, no work, not much training, except reviewing what we’ve already had—That gets rather monotonous,—period!
tr tiresome, fatiguing—Ha—My spelling isn’t fit to be seen.
The Troop C.O. told us again, yesterday, that we wouldn’t have any furloughs for awhile. I suppose by the time we do get a chance for one, I have a
hard time getting one as every one in the troop will be asking for one—damn it. [illegible cross out or scribbling]
If it don’t quit raining pretty soon I think I will go back to Camp. You know—if it wasn’t for that one little grain of common sense I have (which one?) I would probably take “over the hill,” I think that is what happens to a lot of the fellows—They leave Camp and go into some town—get the blues and think “Hell, It wouldn’t do any harm to leave for 5 or 6 days—so they leave and when they come back they are in a little trouble.
Oh well, thats enough harping on this subject—don’t you think
If I felt in the mood I would write a little story—but if I wrote one today it would probably be so mel—yeah—so sad I wouldn’t be able to write because of the saltwater running out of the pen.—Ha.
Sunday is a terrible ordeal for me, it just seems as if there is absolutely nothing to do. The other fellow come in Sun. evening or probably later and tell on Mon. about their “running around”, but it doesn’t appeal to me—a lot of them are pretty dumb—If you go into a restaurant they don’t know how to act or—well—nuts. Some of them are O.K.—for instance
one fellow with us this morn—graduated from Louisianna [above line n; below nn]—Louisiana—or sompin’—
St University last year—he is a nice guy—just met him last night—(don’t know his name)—(but he and a fellow from somewhere near Cinn. and one from Rd. I. are hanging around each other—they are writing too.—That is a rather dumb statement but I guess you’ll be able to figure it out.
The janitor is starting to clean up here so I guess I will have to sign off—
I love you
x Walt x
(- —- —)