Finally! Three letters from Dot arrived today and made Dart feel a lot better. Not physically, because he was still feeling so sick that he slept through dinner – but he’s much less lonely now.
He also learned who Pvt. Kellogg was. He saw Dart’s picture in the newspaper and would like to be friends with him. Dart got a little kick out of the “fan mail.”
A letter from Hal was also in his batch of mail today. It looks like Dart won the weenie roast bet because Hal’s back in Norfolk. Apparently, there is no such ship as the Glennon, or the Glennan or the Glennen. There was a destroyer with the same number as the ship Hal was supposed to transfer to, but it was sunk in the Coral Sea months ago. Now Hal is awaiting transfer back to Boston for temporary shore duty until his discharge comes through. “So Hal’s another Navy casualty of the Red Tape Brigade.”
Yes, he’d like to call her, but his tone would reflect the same mood as his letters and that would do neither of them any good. When he thought about calling her a few days ago, there was a five-hour wait for a line, so he decided against it. Maybe he’ll try again soon.
Dot must have mentioned hearing the words to “The Wedding March” from “Lohengrin” on the Hour of Charm radio show the other day. She had quipped that it was #1 on every young girl’s hit parade. “I surely hope it won’t be too long before you hear that song from inside your own bridal veil.”
He refers to a conversation that they had a while ago in which she told him about her sister Harriet’s many miscarriages. Perhaps Dot’s recent letter told him that she’s had another one, because he writes, “It must be terribly heartbreaking for her and George. There seem to be so many obstacles and accidents and close calls possible in the process of being born that it’s a wonder anybody’s born at all. Add to that the problems of blood types and heredity, and the adverse conditions under which a life is started, and the results are really astounding. Maybe the bad or difficult things just seem so prevalent because they cause so much heartbreak, discomfort, and loneliness. I hope that we can easily have as many healthy kids as we can afford and that we can afford as many as you want to have. I don’t have my heart set on any particular number because you’re the one who should have the say-so on matters like that. All I want is children – at least two.” (I love the fact that he concedes the exact number should be her choice.)
Yes, she’s right. Loving her and knowing she loves him does make him happy, but when he can’t be with her, and when other things are conspiring to make his spirits low, it’s hard for him to rally. “My spirits are low in spit of all the love and longing and pride I have for you.”
His ship is scheduled to join the Pacific fleet as close to New Year’s Day as they can make it. “If it doesn’t go around the world, it’ll probably end up in Iron Bottom Bay with the rest of the scrap steel.”
With tongue in cheek, he agrees with her assessment about sleeping in. “Yes Dot, it’s shameful to stay in bed until noon. The proper procedure is to get out of bed early to prove your good intentions, get dressed to give further proof, eat something for nourishment, and then go back to bed to stay as long as you jolly well please!”
He threatens to stop writing long letters if she keeps saying they make her feel inferior. But he wishes she’d comment on one particular letter. He’s most interested in hearing her thoughts on the subject.
I assume she said something about that record he made for her before leaving Norfolk, because he refers to it “wearing out.” He says it might be better that it did because she might have grown tired of it.
Again referring to something she might have said in a letter he got today, he talks about his train trip along the coast from Norfolk. It cost him an extra quarter because he had to buy a newspaper to tuck into the cracks around the window. He was attempting to keep out both the cold air and the black, sooty grit that was blowing into the car. One young man complained to the brakeman about all the coal dust coming through from the outside. The brakeman responded, “That ain’t coal dust. That there’s cinders!” He said it as though it were an honor to be covered in cinders!
In a funny little riff, he tells her to stop ribbing him about his ribs and shoulders. “They’re raw enough without your raw cracks. Haven’t you ever heard of ‘raw bones’? I don’t’ mind too much, except that it hurts. Not your humor – the raw shoulders.”
He’s surprised that she, too, wonders if the longing they have for each other is unhealthy. He hopes it’s a good, healthy sign that they’re very much in love. “The way I feel at times, Dot, I wonder just how long we’ll have to wait before being married. Years, even two of them, seem so long.”
He quotes a line from her long letter that he’s wanted to say countless times in his. “I wish I were going to sleep with your arms around me. And I wish it now. Goodnight, Darling.”
Dot’s hasty note is written as she dashes off to her last English class before Thanksgiving break. She’s so eager to leave for Cleveland in a couple of hours that she can hardly stand it. She thanks him for his two “super” letters that came yesterday, and promises to answer them from his parents’ house this weekend. She fills the rest of the page with a giant “I love you!” In tiny script someone else writes “I love you too.” Dot’s PS says, “That was Mid. See? Everyone loves you.”
