18-19 July 1942

There are two letters here, each with its own page numbering.

Walt’s great aunt that passed away was Agnes Gillingham Turner, who died on July 16, 1942. As mentioned, Walt’s mother was named Agnes.

A transcript follows the letter images.













July 18, 1942

Hello Honey:—

How are you doing today?—(8) O.K.? O.K.!

The dust has started to blow a little today—(H) If you just lay your hand on my blanket—the dust flies every direction. I took a shower about an hour ago and I’m covered with dust now—already. S’not funny either.

I got the pictures today. They weren’t very clear but I could get the general idea.

My (birthday nuts) birth certificate came today—I am going to apply (tomorrow) Monday and see what happens. Nothing probably.

Say—I can’t write worth a damn tonight can I ?


I am going to Manhattan tonight with Pierce, Fields, Switcz or sompin—He has a car and is ready to leave so I don’t want to mail just this—So—So—

Until tomorrow

Good Evening Sweetheart

I Love You

x Walt x

x xxxx xxx

[unnumbered page 1 of second letter]

July 19, 1942.

My Dearest Dearest Ruth,

How is my Sweetheart this fine Sunday morning? I wish I could be there to find out for myself instead of asking on a sheet of paper which won’t even get there until Sunday is three or four days past. I guess I needn’t worry tho, she always looked O.K. to me on the Sunday mornings when I used to be there.

It will always remain a mystery I guess, as to how a woman can stay up all night on Sat. and when you see her on Sunday morning she looks like a brand new doll,—looking even (fresh) more fresh then the evening before

Maybe it could be, that I would


be so sleepy myself that I couldn’t see straight. No—Guess it wasn’t that for I think I have a pretty good eye—Especially toward the opposite sex—Anyway—I think I made a good choice once in my life. [illegible cross out] At least I’ve never seen anyone who possessed so many good qualities and fine traits as you do. And still you would go with me. Just another unsolved mystery. Ha.

I laughed at Pierce last night until I tho’t I’d split. He was telling me about himself and some of the girls he used to go with. He was explaining how he started to go with the one he is now engaged too. I suppose the reason it seemed so funny was that some parts of it was strangely coincidental with a few things that happened to me. I couldn’t write it all because it would take a book.


At any rate he said he had been dating a lot of girls—going for awhile with some of them, dating some of them, etc. and seemed to be meeting with a lot of success. He said he got to the place where he thought he was “Casanova” himself and if he was with a girl and didn’t get exactly what he wanted—well—he would just get mad as the devil—He said he was as mean as the devil too and it usually worked.

Rather it worked until he met his present girl. He said the first nite he dated her he got drunk—Got mean—did almost everything he shouldn’t have and tho’t she never would date him again—but she did—he said he kept on trying the same tactics but to no avail when finally one night when he was at his worst or best or whatever you want to call it—She told him she didn’t think he was half as bad as he thought he was.


The (way) way he told it almost made me fall off the seat it was so funny and he meant every word he said.

He said he was never so surprised in all his life—She took all the spirit out of him right then. She told him that he was just putting on a big bluff and that he didn’t scare her a bit. He soon changed his tactics altho he said it never done him any good.

I guess thats the way with most guys—They aren’t half so clever as they think they are.

It sprinkled a little last night and isn’t quite so dusty today.—It wouldn’t supprise me if it rained a little. Wish it would, maybe it will cool off some then.

I got a letter from sis Ruth. She told me a Great Aunt of mine dropped dead—She was a nice old lady and


I was sorry to hear about it. My mother was named after her and they always tho’t a lot of each other. But well—just, “but,” I guess.

The Troops are all back from Omaha they all say they had a nice trip and are ready to go again—Wouldn’t mind going myself. There was one accident a motorcycle rider cracked up—He won’t crack anymore up. [Walt drew a box around the sentence] They have one of the most dangerous jobs and are thanked the least—I should say they don’t get much pay out of it.—I reckon it would be fun tho—Wouldn’t mind trying it.

You know something that tickled me—When you said you didn’t like “sissys.”—Ha that was funny—I’m glad you don’t care for them tho.—They are a big pain in the neck to me.


Seldom you hear a girl say it tho—It always seems as if they like to go out with some good looking sissy. Ha.


Just got back from “chow”—Chicken, Mashed potatoes—gravy—cabbage and peppers (raw)—Lemonade—We get a little better “chow” on Sundays—Our meals thru the week have been better since we got this new Troop Commander. I guess he is leaving tho.

Well—it did rain a little—And it is a little cooler now. Wish it would continue this way.

Gosh—I sure would like to see my “Honey” again—Sure an I miss her a lot,—Sometimes I get mighty lonesome for her—Most of the time in fact. For she is the bestest, nicest, sweetest Honey in


the Universe—They just don’t make ’em any better, any nicer, or swetter sweeter.

Well Rufus—

I think I’ve talked or wrote the limit for today—So—

Good Afternoon Sweetheart

I Love You

x Walt x

x xxxx xxx


“The Great American Tragedy”

“He grabbed me ’round my slender neck
I could not yell or scream,
And took me to his dingy room
Where we could not be seen.
He tore away my flimsy wrap,
And looked upon my form,
I was so cold and scared and damp
While he was hot and warm
His feverish lips he pressed to mine
I gave him every drop.
He drained me of my very self
I could not make him stop.
H made me what I am today
That’s why you find me here
A broken bottle thrown away
That once was full of beer.

I suppose you’ve heard this before, Unh?




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