Dot’s letter today is just the kind that millions of servicemen the world over must have lived for during those dreary, dreadful war years. It’s newsy, breezy, tender, funny and sincere.

“This love of ours is like quicksand. Once you fall in, you sink deeper and deeper and there’s no escape. With quicksand, that’s not so good. But when you’re in love with someone like you, well, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She confesses that her heart sank when she saw his letter on V-mail paper – normally reserved for those on the front or at sea. She dreads ever receiving a “real” one like that.

It’s official: they’re both a bit wacky because they spend their days pretending the other one is at their side. In Dot’s mind, the two are always racing to see who can stomp on the Lucky Strike package first. As they walk down the street, they count in unison “Hep – 2,3,4.” She says the girls at work thinks she’s nuts. “The only difference between them and me is that I know I’m nuts!”

The San Francisco postmark on his recent letter made her wish he were still at Treasure Island looking forward to his leave. She’s trying not to think such things, lest God assume she’s ungrateful for all they’ve been given.

The pictures he sent from his liberty are swell! The girls at the store agree that he’s dreamy, although Dot dares them to argue with her. She’s heard that photos like that tend to fade in the light, so she’s going to try to preserve them.

She’s happy he likes the idea of a scrapbook and she’ll take his advice not to ship it to him for fear of it getting lost. She’ll plan now to take him up on his offer to look it over and make additions the next time they’re together.

Today at work, she stood watching the elevator, wondering what she’d do if the doors opened and he stepped out. She became quite smitten with the idea of a surprise visit from him, so she’s asked him to keep his next visit hush-hush. He has a standing invitation to come to the Chamberlain home – after all, they have three empty bedrooms, so something will always be available to him. I hope he can oblige and give her this one wish – the sooner, the better. “Of course, you understand you may find me in overalls, shorts, housecoat or just getting out of bed. But that will assure you how truly you love me. If you can love me in shorts, you can love anything – even Shoemaker.”

El saw Since You Went Away in NYC and had the same reaction as Dart. Dot vows to see it as soon as it comes to Greenwich, but if Dart cried, she’s afraid that when she sees it, the other patrons will be washed away from all her tears.

“You ask if I remember how we walked upstairs on our last night,” she writes.  “What do you think I’ve been living on for two weeks? Yes, Darling, I remember and always will.”

After the high school football game tomorrow, there’s a big Chamberlain Thanksgiving at the house. Her cousins Betty and Janie will be there with their parents and older sister Marian, up from North Carolina to announce her pregnancy.

She concludes the letter with her thoughts of gratitude for all she’s been given. In spite of the war, Americans can look up and observe the weather, rather than the bombers flying overhead. She’s eternally grateful for the chance to know Dart and love him so deeply.