I remain in awe that Dart could write such a long and cheerful letter while strapped to his bed in the face-down position. He must be motivated by love.

I grew up hearing about Dad’s lengthy adventure with his pilonidal cyst, but I’ve never really understood what his condition was. It’s a cyst that forms at the end of the spine – more common in men. It seems they were prone to infection or something, so no one could be deployed to combat during the war with such a cyst. In this letter, Dart mentions that he’s in a ward with 10 guys who are all in various stages of having them removed over the course of weeks or months. Here’s my question: If they were so prevalent in 1943, why do we never hear of them now? Has the human race evolved them out of existence?

Dart blatantly expresses his affection for Dot and compliments her on her clever use of puns. All my life I thought Dad was the punster in the family, but when I read these letters, I realize it’s a trait that runs strong through both sides of the family tree.

Dot is back – although it looks like it was not she who was “missing in action,” but her letters instead. Even with 3-1/2 years worth of correspondence between these two, I grieve the few letters that have been lost.  She has written so many letters to Dart while he’s been at the hospital that the mail carrier in Dart’s ward has already noticed the extra volume he has to carry!

Her descriptions of what’s happening in her life are so entertaining that I forget she is still actually a high school student. Here, she talks about neglecting her chemistry and English studies and having to take a contract law exam.  With math and her retail classes, she has quite a load.

Just as Dart is getting freer with his affection, Dot is also sounding a little more comfortable with letting Dart know how fond she is of him. With slightly less than a month of letters between them, it seems they would both be lost and heart broken if the other one stopped writing. It’s a good thing for their future readers that they never really did!

Dart was delighted to receive a long letter from Dot. He told her it was a big hit in the ward, so I guess the patients must have passed the time reading their mail to the other guys. I find that to be such a nice thought – it almost turned strangers into extended family and provided entertainment in the days before television and video games. Have we lost something by retreating into all of our personal electronic devices?

His curiosity (and jealousy?) was sparked by Mom’s mention of receiving a V-mail. I think that stands for “victory” and refers to letters from a deployed military man. They came on special paper and were mailed with no postage. Dart is hoping Dot’s recent V-mail came from her brother who was in the Navy and not “some dark character looming on the horizon to make me insanely jealous and anxious over you.”

In response to Dot’s report of senior antics in the art room, Dart relates a very funny story about some hi-jinx in the lab at Case. Some of the guys got their hands on a bottle of acetone, a solvent that can turn rayon fabric into a sticky, gooey mess. They were horsing around, pouring some of the stuff into the back pockets of some unsuspecting classmates. One guy who felt the chilled sensation on his skin caused by the rapid evaporation of the acetone, looked down and discovered that his socks had dissolved.  Dart was carrying a handkerchief with red lettering on it made of rayon thread. The thread dissolved, creating a big smear on the handkerchief. His parents razzed him about the “lipstick smudge.” He follows up with some corny jokes “straight off the cob.”

He confesses that the way he feels now he knows he couldn’t even think about hitch-hiking to Greenwich over Christmas. But he assures her he would do anything to get to know her better.

Dot begins her letter in a surprising way- addressing it to Dr. Anthony, Dart’s physician. She explains that a very nice boy has just written her a very long letter, but because of his incapacity, she fears he may cause harm to himself by pulling such stunts.  She asks the doctor for his advice: “Should I beat the sailor’s brains out or should I thank him for being so very considerate?”

She has great sympathy for his recent ordeal. She even reports that she tried to write to him from the same position he must maintain while writing to her and urges him not to continue sending letters if it causes him pain.

A little more chit chat and then she tells him of seeing one of the most “stirring” movies ever – “So Proudly We Hail.” She is in awe of the caring and courageous nurses depicted in the film, which I suspect was one of those hyper-patriotic jobs that Hollywood churned out weekly during the war years.

She wraps up by giving him the address where she’ll be staying over the Thanksgiving holiday, saying she hopes he would write to her there so she’d have something to keep her good nature while a guest in someone’s home.

I’ll start with Dot’s letter today. It was brief because she was so tired from a day of chores. The big news is that she received a note from Dart’s mother, Helen Peterson, along with a snapshot of Dart. Naturally, Dot is thrilled with the photo.

In his letter, Dart answers two of Dot’s letters written a week earlier, whose delivery was delayed until that morning. His big news was that he had been glancing through one of Chicago’s newspapers this morning and saw a photograph of three “girls.” One was Eleanor Parker, a minor Hollywood starlet who had sat behind Dart in study hall at Shaw High School. The other two were from Dart’s neighborhood and had also been classmates of his. Eleanor was trying to help the unnamed girls break into the movie business. I smiled at Dart’s comment “Even if the girls were too fast for my tastes, those pictures gave me a warm glow of pride. Still, I’d rather look at your picture.” You know, I actually believe him!

A luxuriously long letter from Dart covers lots of new territory. He tells Dot about his cousin Jim Peterson who married a woman named Dot. Jim is stationed at an Army post in California and Dot is traveling out to see him.

Next, Dart reveals that his father makes legendary spaghetti every year on New Year’s Day for a huge family gathering. His modest dad only cooks one dish, but it receives such raves that he is secretly thrilled to roll it out annually. In this story, Dart talks about his dad going to “Little Italy” in Cleveland to bargain with the merchants for the best ingredients. I am a little horrified to see his use of a derogatory word for Italians. I knew Dad to be one of the most gracious, open-minded and accepting men I ever met – not a prejudiced word ever spoken. Did I simply know a mellower, wiser man than the boy who wrote this letter, or were terms like that more widely accepted in the 1940’s?

He chats about Dot’s negative comments about Norfolk, VA in an earlier letter and mentions that he, too, has heard nasty things about the city. They are reputed to post anti-sailor signage all over town, in spite of the fact that the Navy is the city’s bread and butter. He mentions a Coast Guard officer (bathtub sailor) who likes Norfolk, and talks about the man’s two daughters he knew in high school.

Dart then waxes eloquent about his great love – trains. He can hear their whistles and bells from the hospital and they make him feel lonely and homesick.

He describes visitors’ day on the ward and what the guys do to keep busy. He complements the corpsmen who treat their patients so well.  He mentions the homemade cookies the ambulatory patients get from home and the snacks delivered in the evenings. All of this talk of food must torment him a little because he’s still on a liquid diet.

He admonishes Dot not to neglect her studies to write such long letters, even while he tells her how much those long letters mean to him! And he thanks her for all her get-well wishes. “It’s a wonderful feeling to know you have a swell, sweet, pretty girl wishing you well and writing to you every day.”

It’s letters like this that saunter so companionably across all types of terrain that allow these kids to get to know each other so well. Memories, daily reports, jokes, gossip – all combine to create a complete picture of the writer and provide the raw material for mutual dreams of future meetings.

Another fun letter from Dot where she recounts a great prank she and her friend Andy played on the gullible Dorrie across the hall. I can almost hear the girlish giggles as the story unfolds and the masculine guffaws as Dart reads the letter to his fellow patients. Just what the doctor ordered! The prank went something like this: Dot and her roommate Andy were among the few girls who were in the house on this Saturday, and they had nothing to do but look for trouble. An opportunity presented itself when Dot opened a new tube of face cream she’d just bought downtown, only to discover it was some sort of sulfur cream. Naturally, it smelled to high heaven of rotten eggs. Not wanting to waste it by throwing it out, the two girls hatched a plot against Dorrie – a naive and gullible girl across the hall. When Dorrie left her room for a moment, Dot and Andy went in and hid the open tube of stinky cream. They smeared a bit on a piece of paper so that the odor would be more noticeable, and left the room. Dorrie came back and they watched her wrinkle her nose and sniff suspiciously all around. Then she threw open her window and came back to tell Dot and Andy about the horrible stench in her room. “We were in hysterics, but that never bothered her. She never suspects anyone. Later I looked over into her room and she was sitting at her desk with a coat and scarf on, her hair rippling in the wind that’s coming in from the window. She began searching her closet for dead mice. “Honestly, you could tell that girl that Roosevelt was on the phone and she’d believe you.” Eventually, after announcing the smell must be a dead wasp she found in her window, Dorrie discovered the open tube and smeared paper and threw them out the window into the winds. She never suspected Dot and her partner in crime!

Dart is obviously pleased to have received two letters and a card – all from Dot- in today’s mail. He takes a line or two to clarify that, contrary to the salutation on one of her recent letters, he is not Dr. Anthony, but he hopes he’ll still do.

I smiled when he addressed what he called the “issue of ‘name-calling’.” He is used to saying “Dot” now, so he tells he he will save “Dorothy” for special occasions. He also said this, about another form of address, “Also, after thinking it over, I don’t think I’ll use ‘dear’ very promiscuously. I never have used it at all before, and I’ll save it for special occasions with you. That way, it won’t wear out before I can see you again. Is that alright with you – ‘dear?'”

There was a lot more chat about her letter, and then he implores he rto tell him the secret about the upside down stamp. He’s been asking around and can’t find what it means.

Dot has been inundated by mail – three letters from Dart, one from her sister and another form her sister-in-law, a package and two letters from her mother! Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing to come home today and see all those friendly greetings waiting for you in your mail box? The only time I get so much personal mail is for my birthday.

She assures Dart that she has no concerns about any letters he gets from girls. “Who am I to tell you whom you may or may not get letters from? Lord knows you have little enough to look forward to out there besides mails, so the more, the merrier. I am kinda glad those six girls aren’t all eligible, tho’.” She goes on to say that she has been corresponding with two servicemen – a soldier she has never met whom her sister met on a train, and a Marine with whom she is on strictly friendly terms.

She can’t envision him in the whiskers he has described to her. She is staring at his picture on her night stand and cannot believe that boy could grow whiskers any better than a flea. “That’s a purdy smile you’re wearing in that picture.”

She makes another reference to the letter code he recently put on the envelope. She answers that L.S.M.F.T. is short for “Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco.” She vows to stump him with a really hard one and suggests she may even come up with something really hot!

There is a paragraph about a “train letter” and being mortified when the conductor came by to ask for her ticket. I have no idea what that means, but it’ll be fun to ask Mom if she remembers.

In response to Dart’s recent moron joke offerings, she relates a Hedy Lamar joke that is classic wartime humor.

She answers Dart’s questions about her pending work experience. Even though she will be done with her course work at Andrews in May, she must work in her field from then until January. If she has a successful job experience (what we might today call an “internship,”) then she’ll officially graduate in January. She’s trying to decide if she should stay in Cleveland to work or go home to be with family and friends in the New York/Greenwich area.

She playfully mocks Dart on his association with Eleanor Parker, the Hollywood actress, whom Dot claims to have never heard of.  She then begins to drop the names of all the rich and famous who live in Greenwich. (Some things never change.) She begins the list with the “A. P. Chamberlains,” and continues with a long list of celebrities. The list topper is, of course, her parents.