The Haggard is in port again, and Dart is attempting to write but keeps being drawn into a giant gab session going on all around him. The men are talking, talking, talking about ideas, loved ones, desires, hopes and Navy, Navy, Navy. It’s just the kind of conversation that would attract an interested and thoughtful guy like Dart.

He calls this a “day of days,” but doesn’t elaborate much. He’s been on duty all day. His job is to wear a set of heavy headphones, listen for messages from the “talker” on the bridge, and then relay those messages to the stations in his line – mostly on the fantail of the ship. There’s no indication, of course, what those messages were or why they were being sent all day.

There’s a curious paragraph about him never knowing how much skin a nose could grow in a place like this. Is he referring to the noese that keeps burning, peeling, burning, and peeling again? Hard telling.

In one of Dot’s letters, she mentioned their hugging scene after they called Dart’s mother from Greenwich last July. “I guess most of our love scenes have been either on a stairway or in a car. I remember how it was that Sunday in Greenwich. And on Wednesday and Thursday in Cleveland.” I guess one of the advantages to them having had only eight days together is that each of those days is unique and memorable – none has blended into another, and each one carries with it very special memories of thrilling words, affectionate deeds and secret glances.

He takes her up on her offer to send pin-ups to him – of Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner, Linda Darnell, Ann Miller, Jinx Falkenburg (?) and Katharine Hepburn. Still the only one he’ll actually pin-up is a photo of Dot.

Where she and her family think Gordon is, is not where Dart is. All he’s able to do is keep saying where he isn’t.

He seems a little surprised to realize how much he’s grown to like his little ship. She has seen all kinds of actions since she was commissioned in  1943, and she’s conducted herself with honor, earning a fine record along the way. But he assures her that no matter how proud a sailor might be of his ship, no matter how much he may enjoy the Navy life, his only desires are to get home and see the ones he loves. How he hopes this war will end soon!

Dot’s letter is sweet, typically funny and long! She is ecstatic to have received four letters from Dart in today’s mail.

She tells him not to worry about the folks at home. They may get a little antsy when more than a week passes without letters from him, but they understand that it only means his letters took a while to get off the ship. All he should be thinking about is getting home soon.

She truly appreciates his frequent letters. But, she’s come to appreciate so many things about him – the first of which is that she did meet him. When he refers to his boyhood days in his letters, it almost feels that she knew  him then. By the time he gets home and they have plenty of chance to get better acquainted, she’ll know much more about him than he does about her. She’d like to tell him about her early life, but when she tries, it sounds “as interesting as a cake recipe.”

She pleads with him to please send the house plans, if he is able. She’s so eager to see the improvements he’s made to their future dream home. She only hopes it doesn’t remain a dream for too awfully long.

“Right now, there’s only one thing I’d rather be doing than writing to you. That, of course, is to be sitting here talking with you and remarking how well you look in your new sport jacket and slacks. Or do you have on your best suit this evening? The tears of joy in my eyes make everything except your eyes a little blurry.” (And this girl claims she can’t write!)

His description of the sunrise was so good that she shared it with her family. (She hopes he won’t mind, and she assures him she saves the more tender bits for her eyes only.) Her father said to thank him for describing the sunrise to Dot because she’s never seen one. She sleeps until nearly sunset every day! Well, we know that’s not true, but the statement gives us a glimpse of what a tease Arthur Chamberlain could be.

He asked about the big dinner party that she and El were supposed to serve. Well, it was cancelled, but they were both paid anyway. Even though the catering part of their business earns her an additional 15 cents per hour, she much prefers babysitting. “I tell you, I was born lazy. Why, did you know I did almost nothing but sleep and drink the first year of my life? Now if that isn’t the height of laziness, I’d like to know what is!”

She spends a little time actually answering some of the queries in his recent letters. She doesn’t recall seeing any of the scenes he asked about in “I Love a Soldier.” She hopes he’ll have a chance to see it someday. (Although, the title doesn’t sound like one they’d choose to show on a Navy ship, does it?)

Today she got a sweet note from his mother, thanking “them” for the plant. As it turns out, she got two plants from “Dart.” Did he happen to ask someone in Cleveland to take care of that for him? Dot urges him not to confess to his mother that the plant she sent was her idea. Helen seemed so pleased with it, that Dot is afraid her pleasure would be somewhat diminished if Dart confessed and gave her all the credit. Just this once, she thinks it would be best if Dart were slightly less than totally honest.

While she’s on the subject of flowers, she wants to thank him again for sending the lovely Easter corsage. She wore it into work this morning and received lots of positive comments, including a few “hot tips” on how to hang on to a man like him.

Before closing this letter at 1:30 A.M., she asks him “Why does a bee buzz? Answer: You’d buzz too, if somebody took your honey and nectar (necked her.) “Yes, there are homes for people like me, but in these times, they’re overcrowded. I’m waiting for a vacancy. Meanwhile, I’m renting the vacant space midway between my neck and the top of my head.”