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Aug. 10, 1942

Dear Folks,

So glad to hear about the successful Gardiner visit and how well everyone is there. Very likely they politely didn’t mention the fact that I owed each of them except Skipper a letter. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t have heard from me by then, I guess, and yet already has answered my letter to him, which means I owe the Yellow House four letters! Somehow I haven’t been so much in the mood for writing lately, though I’ve written to Phil. Sabine, Mr. Kemp and others fairly recently.

The events at Portland should be written up by Benchley and illustrated by Gluyas Williams!

Now both of you are up at Squam and with the kids once more on your hands, I suppose. If things had happened a little differently, I’d be up there in less than two weeks. It looks as if a week from tomorrow will be the big day here for me, but there will be little thrill to it then. We’ll be lucky if we get a single day off, but we’ll probably continue to get Sundays off, as we have recently. Except for the extra pay and potential authority we’ll not be much different from the first class cadets of a few months back, who also get every night, at least until taps, off. Oh well the training should be good, though it will be a little tiresome to be flying the same planes in the same area and under the direction of the same instructors. No, there’s no real secret about it, after all. Advanced training for officiers is nothing new.

Right now we’re having gunnery practice, and it’s rather fun. During our Saturday flight I was aiming at the target sleeve, towed behind another plane, and pressed the trigger. Nothing happened. I forgot to release the safety catch, then in my rattled state couldn’t find it untill it was too late to fire! Dive bombing should come this week and will also be rather thrilling. Already we’ve had our exciting catapult shots.

Supervised exercise is now on the daily program—intramural touch football, softball (indoor baseball), volleyball, etc. as well as calisthenics. It’s pretty good fun, but for ankle trouble again.

A week ago Sunday I did nothing, but call on the Bunko Bakers, but was more ambitious over this last week-end. From the Reids’ I was dragged to the weekly dance (Sat evening) at the Ponte Vedra Inn, and that was mildly enjoyable. Fortiunately I was able to get away with only one dance with the unattractive cousin, a very poor dancer, and managed to sneak in more than one with Caroline R., a superb dancer. The ocean has, incidentally, turned deliciously cool again. Must be from the winds and tides. One’s skin gets very pink under the sun out on the beach even if one gets out every week, and somehow one seems to get browner only very gradually.

It seems that I’ll have saved up enough pay, to pay for all my uniforms (one overcoat-raincoat in blue, one suit of greens, one suit of blues and one converted cadet blues, two more whites, two khakis, accessories, etc.), that is with the help of the $150.00 uniform allowance.

Recent books include “Without Armor” (Hilton), “The Yearling,” “The Citadyl” and now a couple of Van Wyck Mason thrllers. Am looking forward to “Cross Creek,” borrowed from a girl friend. There’s lots of time to read in between flights now that they have little more ground training to offer us.

Pa, what’s the maximum and minimum growth of my trees in inches?

Love to All,


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