Today’s letter is a vivid description of Dart’s visit to the liberty island. He went over with his buddy V.D. Hite, a guy from Ashland, KY and Cincinnati, OH. These two have lots of fun when they hang out together.

The liberty was a “dry” one – no beer included. Consequently, only about 20 men took the boat over to the island instead of the usual count of 80 when beer is provided. They spent the day swimming, beach-combing and getting thoroughly sunburned.

Dart describes for Dot all the weird and wonderful sea creatures they observed along the beach. They found a baby octopus and countless tiny hermit crabs who are not at all particular about the type of shell they occupy. The most fascinating creatures were the sea urchins. Dart and VD watched them for hours, careful to avoid their poisonous splines. Dart loved swimming in the warm, shallow water, as long as he was able to keep his feet away from the sharp coral.

He reports that he received an 89.5% on his fire control test. His crew mate, Hirsch, who took the test with the aid of a whole crew of senior fire control men assisting him with the answers, received a 90.5%. Dart felt deservedly proud of his accomplishment and rather miffed at Hirsch’s cheating. “I don’t think Hirsch likes me any more. I told him he should have said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ when he gloated to me over the grade ‘he’ had made.”

Dart has been sitting for an hour, dreaming of Dot and trying to think of a new way to tell her how much he loves her. “I guess it all boils down to those three famous words, no matter how much it’s dressed up. And about the best way to get those words across is to whisper them softly into the ear of the person in your arms. My arms aren’t long enough to reach you tonight, so I guess I’ll have to write – I love you, Darling.”

Dot begins by remarking how nice it would be if she could write to Dart in the afternoons when she’s alert, rather than after midnight when she’s so weary.

She got two more letters from him today, the most recent dated April 2. She loves it when he’s in port because his letters get to her so quickly. She assumes that since the latest letter was written from port, it means he was not in on the raid on Okinawa.

Those  nurses at the Easter service must have been quite popular with the men who’d not seen a woman in 14 months. “Gee, maybe they’d even talk to me if I were out there. Guess you boys would talk to just about anything you didn’t have to salute.”

She comments that life “out there” sounds nearly civilized when he talks about all the radio programs he gets to  hear. She wishes she could be on one of those programs and send him a fond “hello” over the airwaves.

She’s grateful she didn’t know until after the fact that he was involved in the Tokyo raid. “I’m sure I’d turn grey if I knew about these things before hand. Your letters are so cheery I can’t even guess when you’re doing something exciting and when it’s all just routine.”

Referring to his comments about her spoiling kids who might be his, she says “If they aren’t ‘our’ kids, there won’t be any. Need I make any further comment?”

She notifies him that her bedroom window is the only one on the third floor in the rear of the house, and there’s no need for him to bring a ladder. “Just whistle. I’ll tie my bed clothes into knots and make a rope ladder. I did it once before when my parents and I didn’t agree on where I should spend my evening.”

Her mother let her drive the car a few blocks this evening, and she even got to turn it around twice! It felt wonderful! Her mom says she can probably get her license for her birthday. The Millers have a 1931 Austin they’ve said she could drive this summer, if she gets that license.

After a paragraph in which she quips about needing to buy some fan magazines in order to keep up on all the current pin-up girls, she closes quickly, saying she’s too tired to stay awake, but she loves Dart, Butch, Pete, etc.