This energetic letter from Dart has a mix of cynical, sweet, sarcastic and sentimental.
He’s in a mad dash to write to his parents, the first girl he dated, and Dot – all in just an hour. The unnamed girl of his first date is engaged to be married and Dart thought it appropriate to send her his congratulations. Although he “tried to date her all the way through high school (and never got a second tumble),” he says he “piled it on so thick in the letter to ‘letter’ know he doesn’t give a tinker’s hoot what happens to her.” (Did I mention sarcastic?)
He has a snarky little rant about how, when a fella’s trying to write to his parents, his wife or his girl, his bunk becomes the hub of all activity. Guys shaking the bed, performing acrobatics on the top bunk, or engaging the poor chap in some mundane conversation about a hometown not his own. They begin a conversation about the relative merits of married life or the single life, depending on their status with a wife or B.G.F. (I’m amused by that 1940’s expression foreshadows today’s texting abbreviation.) One must assume by his mention of it that Dart finds these distractions, well…distracting.
After the Captain’s Personal Inspection today, Dart reports that he had so much laundry to do that he missed both chow and mail call. He must be getting rough, chapped hands by now, with all that scrubbing of his duds.
The Officer of the Day gave his company “holy hail Columbia” today after they botched last night’s phone watch. It seems the Warrant office who instructed the team about the watch failed to tell them a very important piece of information. When he confessed his fault in the botched job, the OD gave him a dirty look and “heaped final prayers on us and released us with a religious saying totally devoid of religion.”
Dart tells Dot that he tried to find Fred, but his buddy has disappeared. He suspects he’s already on a ship, bound for parts unknown. That must have been a common occurrence during war time, and it must have caused a certain degree of concern for families and friends of the “departing.”
He says he was hoping to see Cover Girl but missed all the chances he had. He thinks it bears repeating that he still prefers Dottie to all the pulchritude he’s seen, regardless of shape, size, quality, quantity, of degree of dress or undress. He sees another girl and then thinks how much nicer Dot is. He also missed his opportunity to see The Navy Way. It seems to me he sees enough of that in real life, so he’d have no need to see it in “reel” life.
He reached his goal in an hour and bids her good-night, with all his love.
