Dart’s heart is on full display in this letter. His feelings of love and devotion flow freely and nearly uninterrupted for six pages.

Those brief interruptions included a comment about all the RCA Victor radios on his ward, the arrival of a nice new patient with the same diagnosis as Dart, the attempt to rejoin the V-12 unit at some location other than Case (and the rejection that came as a result of his hospitalization), the color of his father’s hair, and Burke’s friend Edith.

He’s so glad Dot met his family and that the meeting went as well as he thought it would. He, too likes to dream about being stationed at the Naval base close to Greenwich. On the subject of lovely dreams, he also dares to dream that Dot can travel to Chicago – perhaps with his folks – before she must leave for home. He vows to keep writing to her “whenever the exigencies of duty permit it, be it daily, weekly, or twice an hour.”

He admitted to mooning over her picture all the time and confided that, while it would not do for a sailor to be seen kissing a photograph good night, there are plenty who can be seen in silent communication with those photos just before lights out.

After some more “mushy stuff,” he closes with “This is getting involved, and before I drop too far over the precipice, I better stop, but quick.”

See the silly postcard from a very busy Dot.

Dart is the only correspondent today, but this letter is almost long enough for two.

He was happy to get a couple of snapshots in Dot’s letter. They show the Chamberlain family home in Greenwich – a lovely Victorian with a wrap-around porch. The pictures of Dot are when she was a toddler of two or three. Dart describes her as “Quite the stylish little ragamuffin.”

He thanked Dot again for the fudge and told her it was almost all gone. One strange thing, though; he guessed that she had packed the fudge in a box that had once contained an Old Spice product which produced an “unusual effect.” No doubt!

He proposes that since they are both now of the opinion that they are not worthy of the other, they continue their acquaintanceship. “At least until we find out whether each of us is willing to put up with the ‘human idiosyncrasies’ of the other in order to have the more pleasant traits of character nearly all the time.”  He goes on to say that he hopes her letters reveal her true personality, but he fears his do not show all of his irregular traits. Then he uses a phrase that most certainly has changed connotations since the time he wrote it. He says he is a queer. I trust he means he is a rather odd fellow.

There was a little more chat about getting a letter from Dot’s mother, and the fantastically warm weather he had today, after a good snow yesterday. He closed with the dream of getting to see her again and getting to know her well enough that he could one day call her “my darling.”

Here’s a short and breezy note from Dart, beginning with his comment on her recent postcard: “Of course, if there’s nothing to say, it’s best left unsaid. You unsaid it most thoroughly.”

He told a nice little story about the night corpsman bringing 25 hamburgers to the ward last night and selling them for 25 cents each. He made a whopping 96 cents on the arrangement. Dart describes them as “the regular date-style things” and says its the first one he’d had since that night in October when he and Dot went to Howard Johnsons for burgers. His burger last night brought back good memories and filled him up to boot.

His post script asks the question “Does your mother have any idea how we feel about each other?” I guess that would be an important thing to know if he’s going to keep corresponding with Mrs. C.

I’m exhausted just reading the long list of things Dot must accomplish before May 1. I don’t think sleep will make the list, and letter-writing will unfortunately fall far down the list of “must-dos.”

She’s happy to learn that Dart’s family approves of her because she can’t imagine what she’d do if they didn’t. She commented that his father doesn’t look or act 51, leading me to wonder what a 17-year old girl thinks a 51-year old man should act like!

She writes that she has proof that dreams certainly come true. In fact, when she got that first letter from Dart, she lay in bed all night, dreaming that he would keep on writing. Since that dream became a reality, she is confident some of their others will, as well. Sadly, one that won’t is Dart’s dream of her coming out to Chicago when she’s done with school. Andrews has a strict policy for seniors when their classes are done: they have one week to get home and settled, acquire the appropriate clothes for work, and begin their job, PRONTO! She must do well on her internship if she wants to attend college in the fall.

Speaking of college, she thinks she’ll major in home economics, but asks Dart if he has any other ideas for her field of study.

After a little more chatter in response to his latest letter, Dot closes. She has a headache from going all week without her glasses and she needs to get to bed.

Dart has read Dot’s recent letter several times, and it hasn’t lost its appeal.  When he begins his letter, he has the NY Philharmonic playing on one side, and an annoying guy from Alabama making trouble on his other side. Trying to tune out the latter, he continues writing.

Recognizing how busy she’ll be in the coming weeks, and wanting to help her in some way, Dart decides to try his hand at writing her class history. He begins with a pretty funny paragraph – a perfect spoof of every class history ever written. Then he offers to write a fill-in-the-blank philosophy so Dot can simply supply her own opinions.

He waxes a little philosophical himself when he ponders what it was that drew them to begin writing letters to each other. He recalls how thrilled he was when he got her first couple of letters, and how he dreamed their correspondence would flourish. Because those dreams came true and fostered bigger ones, he has a lot invested in all of their dreams ending happily.

He agrees that home economics would be a good line of study for Dot when she begins college, and he expresses his desire to return to school someday. He misses the “romantic” subjects of English and history and would like to study those. It makes me wonder how he ever was persuaded to enter engineering school at Case. I guess it must have been related to the war effort. Seems most things were in those days.

At last the Alabaman near him becomes annoying enough to break Dart’s mood for writing, and he signs off.

Dot dashes of a hasty note before church. She was delighted to find his letter waiting for her after a long day at work yesterday. The relentless “liquid sunshine” of Cleveland weather is somewhat less delightful.

She filled in a little detail about the old photos she’d sent Dart, and expressed regret that his mother had not shared any of his childhood photos with her during their visit.

She had hoped that wrapping the fudge in several layers of waxed paper would protect it from the Old Spice scent of the container, but alas, it did not work. Commenting that many great discoveries have been made by accident, she had to concede that her experiment was not one of those.

With Andy screaming at her to get ready for church, she abruptly closed the letter.

Dart’s letter was upbeat an surprisingly non-mushy today. He reports that of the three letters he received today, for once, Dot’s letter did not bring him his greatest thrill.That designation went to the one from the US Treasury containing his $80.00 income tax refund. When added to the $265.00 pay he’s about to finally receive, this young sailor feels flush. Up until this point, I was unaware there was a problem with receiving his pay checks, because the boy never complained.

Yesterday evening his ward was entertained by some girls from a local school of dance. His favorite act was the little six-year olds who were adorable and very entertaining. He admits that he misses the company of kids – from his cousin’s three little ones to the neighborhood children. Now that he mentions it, I suppose children are a rare sight in a military environment.

Entertainment continued tonight in the form of a decent magician, and Eddie Cantor performed in the auditorium for the “up patients.” I’m impressed by the quantity, variety and quality of entertainment these young men have. I suppose it helps that Dart is in a huge hospital near a major city, but it’s nice that so many folks are pulling together to keep the guys’ morale up.

April showers have visited Chicago of late – just as in Cleveland. Dart closes the letter to write to his parents.

Dot has set her alarm clock for 5:15 AM to have time to dash a letter off to Dart. (Dot, Dart, dash? That makes for a strange sentence!)She thanks him for his faithfulness at writing even during her period of “faithlessness.”

She writes that she has very mixed feelings about going home in three weeks. Although she’s looked forward to this part of her life (being out of high school) for a long time, she has more negative feelings about it now than positive ones. Could it be she’s sorry to be leaving the Cleveland area and a chance to see Dart? She admits to being scared of what follows.

In answer to Dart’s question about how much her mother knows about Dot and Dart’s feelings for each other, Dot says that her mother seems to have surmised quite a bit. She makes references to certain things in her letters, and if Dot neglects to mention Dart in one of her letters home, her mother asks if they have had a “lovers’ quarrel.” Ruth Chamberlain is an astute woman, so there’s not much that escapes her.

Dot has to iron some clothes before church, so her brief letter must come to an end. She hopes to write some more later, but her P.S. acknowledges that she didn’t.

Dart begins his letter with the question that torments him: “Why in  —- can’t I get home before you leave?” He hates the thought of her being so far away.

At this moment, he is listening to Eddie Cantor over the P. A. system. He’s broadcasting from an auditorium outside the window of Dart’s ward. When he performed earlier in the day, Dart went to the craft room instead. I guess he’s not a big Eddie Cantor fan.

The doctor saw Dot’s picture today and read the inscription she’d written. He looked at Dart and said “She sure hasn’t been around much, has she?” That’s certainly true, but how could he tell? Dart says this doctor’s favorite expressions are “God damn” and “What the hell,” which he uses as other people might use “gosh” or “holy smokes.”

He has to turn in now because the head nurse is angry at the ward for not getting to bed on time. He still is not allowed to sit, so his feet hurt by days’ end. He writes that he’ll love her forever. That would be Dot, not the nurse!)

Dot writes a sweetly sentimental letter here – mostly for her beloved Andrews School. She and Andy went for a walk after dinner and ended up climbing a tree near the pond. They stayed there for a long time, talking about the men in their lives. Dot realized how much she would miss all the girls who had become like family to her.

She wrote “It was so peaceful and quiet on the campus here, that it seemed almost impossible that in countries less fortunate than the United States, innocent people are being bombed unmercifully.”

She accepts Dart’s offer to write an outline for her philosophy. She had to turn her own outline in today, but she welcomes his, anyway.

She tells Dart in lovely detail about the final ceremony at Andrews before the seniors leave campus to begin their work assignments. She writes of the “sing-out,” a solemn, candlelight ceremony when the class history and prophecies are read. The junior and senior classes sing to each other and the whole thing is followed by a tea. Family and friends are invited to participate. Because her family lives so far away and is unable to attend, she was thinking of inviting the Petersons.

She recalls the feelings of receiving that first letter from Dart, Now, 135 letters later, the feelings have only grown. She vows to love him forever. It seems they are in agreement on that score – as in most things of importance.

What a sweet and hopeful letter from Dart today! He is listening to a broadcast of someone he calls “The Voice,” singing live from a studio somewhere. (Is that Frank Sinatra?) The subject of his letter is the “mythical irons in the mythical fire.”

In red underscored print, he tells of some progress made. He has received one of the required signatures for a leave on April 27! Having hurdled numerous barricades, with plenty more to come, he is suddenly hopeful. All the officers agree he should get a leave, but they also warn him how hard it is to get one. A chaplain has intervened on his behalf and moved the process forward.

He’s so excited he can scarcely write. Maybe he’ll be home in time for Dot’s prom! Maybe the trip won’t tire him too much to go to the dance. Maybe the stars will finally align in his favor! As he continues  the letter, he keeps returning to the radio program of The Voice, telling what songs he’s singing and relating them to his hopes for this elusive leave. He also compares the screaming girls in the studio to the shrieks of roller coaster riders.

All the while he’s cautioning Dot not to get her hopes up, his elation is stampeding out of control. He ends the brief and ebullient letter with “Oh, Dot! Keep dreaming and hoping and thank the Lord for chaplains!”

Here’s a breezy, busy letter from Dot, begun one day and finished the next. She’s happy to hear of all that money coming his way, and graciously offers to take it off his hands if it begins burning a hole in his pocket. She enjoyed his report of the little dancing girls who came to entertain the patients. That prompted her to confess that she had “studied” dance for several years – ballet, tap, rhythmic and social. “And I can’t dance! No wonder my parents turned grey.”

She was delighted to read the review from Dart’s father. It prompted her to call the Petersons and invite them to her sing-out ceremony later this week.

Beginning the second segment of her letter after midnight, she again cautions him not to expect too much in the way of correspondence from her. She is overwhelmed by everything she has coming at her – assignments, rehearsals, exams, cleaning and packing…

She tells a cute story about a group of three (Dot included) who awoke with a dread of attending Sunday School. They all dislike the teacher and are all so busy that sitting through an hour of her was too much to endure. As they discussed the various means of avoiding that torture without being caught, Dot had the idea of simply asking permission not to go. Convincing her partners to try the direct approach, she put their case to Mrs. Woodworth, the housemother. After careful consideration, the request was granted, but Mrs. W. extracted a promise that they would be “twice as righteous during church.” Dot had high praise for the world’s greatest housemother . She’ll miss her a lot when she leaves Andrews.

Finally exhaustion brought this letter to a close, with a promise that no matter how busy she is, Dart will be in her thoughts at all times.