This is one of the least personal letters Dart has written to Dot in months – perhaps since those long ones he wrote from Treasure Island explaining all that he was learning in his highly technical classes.
He’s been keeping very busy in port. All hands are employed keeping the Haggard in pristine condition. (Maybe they’re even more intent on her looks since she recently incurred such heavy damage in that submarine-sinking incident.) He explains to Dot that many of the ship’s exterior features like searchlights and gun turrets are protected by large canvas sacks that help keep salt, dirt and sea birds out. These coverings, fondly called “bloomers” by the crew, were beginning to look rather dingy, so new ones were ordered and installed. Now the ship looks so good that newcomers to port ask if she’s a new vessel.
“Now,” explains Dart, “the boys are turning to their pictures.” By that, he means original paintings of Varga girls, dice and tigers that crew members have created on the gun houses. “As soon as I saw those pictures when I first saw the destroyer with the 555 on her bow, I thought that here was a ship with a personality all her own.”
He goes on to describe that some of the other ships in the fleet have inferior original artwork, usually for the purpose of bragging about their successes in battle. He hints at several exploits the Haggard could boast about, if that were her nature. She, however, prefers to keep her victories – large and small – quiet. “Up to now, the Haggard’s been lucky and has done her share better than many.”
For a guy who’d much rather be in Cleveland, who has plenty of gripes about the Navy, who is not convinced that this war is even necessary, he sure has nothing but praise and affection for his ship.
In this letter he enclosed a little sketch drawn by a buddy from Treasure Island. It hasn’t survived with the letter, but it must have featured a “sweet potato” because Dart comments about how unpopular an instrument that is out on the high seas. “I found that out while practicing!”
At the bottom of the page, Dart drew a comical caricature of a scruffy, scrawny sailor carrying a tool box and sporting a three-day growth of beard. The sketch is labeled “Peterson on ship.”
Of the tragic news from yesterday, Dot writes, “The news of President Roosevelt’s death was such a shock that all I did was listen to the broadcasts. No matter what opinion I held of him, nor how I felt about his ideals, I still feel this is a terrible time to lose a leader. May God be with President Truman and guide him along the right paths. He has certainly had a heavy burden thrust upon his shoulders.”
Because tomorrow is a national day of mourning, nearly all retail establishments are closed. She hopes it’s not disrespectful, but she and Nancy are going on a long bike hike to take in some of nature’s handiwork. Later, Dot’s cousin Betty, Nancy, and Dot are going to see “National Velvet” and they’ll all stay over at Dot’s house.
She’s so proud of Dart for continuing to write such great letters every day for over two weeks. “Good going, sailor! See how long you can keep it up.”
She wants Dart to tell his friend with the place at Lake Sunapee that the Chamberlain cottage is almost directly across the lake from Soonipi Park Lodge, about 1/4 mile from Burkehaven and 1 1/2 miles from Sunapee Harbor. “Ask him what his opinion is of that location for a honeymoon. Get him to tell you all about it. Let him sell it to you.”
Talking again about his infant pictures, she says she’s sorry she got him riled about them, but even sorrier that she never got to see the one that riled him the most. She also has some of those embarrassing shots of herself as a baby that she hopes to burn before he can lay eyes on them, lest they give her a blush that would never leave.
She’ll have him know that she was not razzing him about getting money back from the government. She worked all year, had taxes withheld, and didn’t make enough money to justify the taxes. Did he hear about the simplified tax form they’ll be using next year? It only has four simple parts. 1) How much did you earn? 2) What did you spend? 3) How much is left? 4) Send it.
Now she’s too tired to write any more, but says she’ll try to add some later. “Later” turns out to be two days. She and Nancy went on a very long bike ride out into the countryside yesterday. They found a perfect little brook with a stone bridge across it and decided that’s where they’d have their picnic. They ate, talked and dangled their toes in the water until 4:00 when they observed a minute of silence in memory of the President.
Dot heard that all servicemen across the globe would be observing 10 minutes of silence, if at all possible. She wondered if he was doing that at the same time she did. She says some days she feels that he’s very close to her, and yesterday was one of those days. “It was almost as if all I had to do was call and you’d come, but it didn’t work. I tried.”
She will answer his masterpiece letter tomorrow, but for now she wants him to know how terribly sorry she was to hear that his childhood friend was killed. “That was a beautiful letter you wrote. We all feel the same way about this war as you do. Dad said that was one of the finest letters he’s ever heard. Believe me, I don’t read all my letters to my family, but I want other people to share all the wonderful philosophy and knowledge your letters give to me.”
