Dart’s letter tells of finally receiving two letters in his first mail call. (One from Dot, the other from his mother.) He swings back and forth throughout the letter between a wistful homesick tone and painting a more detailed picture of a “gob’s” life.  My favorite passage is “The worst thing about getting letters from friends is that the very letters you wait for are the ones which make you the most homesick.” He thanks Dot for the picture she sent and adds “I just sat and looked at it for a long time before I even started to read your letter.  Keep on writing letters like that and keep a sailor proud and happy.”

As he shares some of the daily happenings in his barracks, I can just see Dot drinking in all the details. I know she wants to be able to picture exactly where he is and what his days are like.

He signs off with “Love, (and some X’s, too).”

Now it’s Dot’s turn to be happy about receiving a letter. She compliments him on his obvious leadership ability.

I love her little story about finally having the courage to break the wishbone that her sister had sent to her via their mother.  This practical, sensible girl is surprisingly superstitious about a the power of a wishbone. She is nervous her roommate will get the wish. Phew! Dot wins! She doesn’t reveal what her wish was, but I suspect it had something to do with a certain young “sea-scout.” I wonder if Mom remembers all these years later what she wished for that day.

More tales about dorm life follow. My favorite is the one about her and her roommate trying to write letters in their room, but they are constantly being interrupted. Then, when people leave, no one closes the door. Finally, these self-professed “lazy seniors” (Dot and the roomie) start throwing shoes at the door rather than getting up to close it.

Dot encloses a pack of gum for Dart and promises to make him some fudge when he’s home for Christmas. It’s my guess that her talk of being together at Christmas was far sweeter to Dart than any gum or fudge could ever be!

Time and again as I read these letters, I am grateful for the permanence of the written word. Across great distance and time, these letters will be read and reread, combed for nuance and detail, searched for deeper meaning and cherished for the mere fact that the pages were once held by hands that are so terribly missed. You can’t do that with a phone call!