Today, Dart seems almost poetic. He begins by asking what Dot was up to at 7:30 AM, eastern time; was she thinking of him, as he was of her? He writes an interesting paragraph about the coming of spring:

Spring’s slowly dragging her battered body into the region, but she is having a hard battle. Old Man Winter is still a pretty virile old cuss, and Gentle Spring is rather cautious about running headlong into the fray.

He pens a brief fantasy of life on the lam – a hermit-in-hiding, holed up on a Cleveland park for the duration. Visions of a night stick wielding Shore Patrol bring his musings to a sudden halt.

He describes in great detail the battle practice that is being waged on the lake and in the air. “Nothing lends such a military aspect as these thundering birds overhead.”

I hope you’ll treat yourself to the final paragraph (a long sentence, really) of his letter. Dart poses the eternal question of young lovers: Is our love a fleeting whim, or will it stand the test of time? He expresses it so well.

On the back of the last page, he draws a map of the military complex where he “resides.” Perhaps he’s hoping Dot will stage a break-out attempt on his behalf!