This 14-page letter from Dart is largely a love letter to the city of Charleston, SC. And it’s one that Dot will surely share with others because of his poetic descriptions of this old place. He is most certainly a one-woman man, but his heart is readily captured by a variety of cities.

Dart has just completed a four-hour walking tour of Charleston, the nation’s third oldest city, conducted by the director of the historical society. I’ll use his own words to adequately share the picture.

“They were four hours of living in the past. I had no idea of just how old and how interesting Charleston really was. Each corner we turned in the old section of town brought to view another ancient building, another delightful garden, another hidden alley unchanged for a hundred years. Churches were pointed out which have occupied the same plot of ground for two hundred and forty years! And one that has been in the same place for two hundred and sixty two years.

“…Peculiarities of architecture were pointed out as we rambled down the narrow cobblestone byways. A house that was occupied by a few weeks each by George Washington and General Lafayette was shown us. We were told the tales of the history of the city since its founding in the 1670’s. We traced the course of the old walls, built in 1704 as protection against the French and Spanish. We learned to know some of the city’s pioneer citizens and to recognize their deeds. We saw their houses, and their carriage-houses and their servant’s quarters.

“We gazed upon a corner on which stood four modern-looking buildings, one of which dated beyond the Revolution, and all of which were built before the ‘Confederate War,’ which the guide so often mentioned.

“We saw the only Hugenot Church in the world. We were entertained in a powder magazine built by the colonists before the start of the eighteenth century.

“What a city! I know now why it looks like it could have been lifted from a novel by Dickens. … By the tales of our able guide, we saw Charleston as it was in the beginning, and all the time from then until the end of the ‘Confederate War.’

“We saw homes of pirates and of patriots. We saw the graves of both, lying side by side in a crowded, ivy-covered, quiet churchyard with headstones and monuments dated as early as 1710. We saw quaint courtyards grown very beautiful as the vines covered the scars of four wars.

“Tile and slate roofs are originals, with patches to cover the holes left by the wars, the fires, and the storms. Some of the homes we saw have remained in the same family for two hundred years, and the ground they stand on has remained under the same family name since the town was first surveyed… in 1683.

“Churches, churchyards, tradition-packed homes and gardens, old shops, cobblestone streets, uneven sidewalks, little alleys that wind in among the tightly packed houses; all had their stories to be told.

“I have never been so enthralled by history or by the past. It was made alive today. One thing which makes it alive is the pride which the Charlestonians take in their beautiful past. …Those soft old buildings that have stood the tests of time, man and nature for so many years are still alive because happy people live in them. Little kids play in yards that have been played in by 12 generations of little kids before them. Young people have parties in street-level drawing rooms which saw their first parties when the happy people still owed their allegiance to the King of England. Fireplaces which burned wood cut in 1739 still burn wood (cut in 1945) to warm the same rooms…

“…A wall around a city makes it a very inflexible thing. Houses must grow up, instead of out. They grow to four stories high, one room wide and several rooms deep. They need each other for support. Their backyards, all now grown into beautiful gardens, form a square, entered by an arched gateway from each street… Even the back lots sometimes have a row of small houses and shops…

“We stopped in at one house which was built in 1739. The elderly lady who greeted us was the most sprightly, friendly and modern lady of seventy-five that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was full of the devil, and the stories about her house and the anecdotes of the people who lived there since it was built by her family proved it. Her name was Miss Alice R. H. Smith and she paints and writes. Her sister, Miss Caroline Smith, as active as she, whom we also met, writes. They thoroughly enjoyed having 20 soldiers, sailors and marines coming through their house, and we, in turn, thoroughly enjoyed meeting Miss Alice and Miss Caroline. They spoke of each other in the same jocular way that the lady in “Having a Wonderful Crime” spoke of her sister: ‘My sister’s an old maid, and I never married.’

“Who says the past is dead? Maybe so, in places where people are ashamed of it. But here, they’ve kept it alive, and it’s a great heritage.

“These crooked cobblestone streets; these uneven, worn sidewalks; these buildings with their bricks worn soft, round and mellow and their wrought-iron ornaments still ornamental are part of America’s history. They’re the remaining bit of her early history that can still speak and sing. They are the spirit behind our literature and our folk songs. They are what Charleston lives to preserve as does nowhere else on earth.”

In other news, Dart likes the drawings of the silver pattern “Lyric,” and he hopes to see it in person at a silver store in town on his next liberty. Dot is not alone in wishing she could have the same companion for her upcoming train trip as she had on her last. He likes to dream of the day when they can make that trip together, continue up to Sunapee to collect the weenie roast debt, and share a Pullman car without creating a stir.

He takes exception to the description of her letters as “duller than dull.” He finds them to be quite lively. If she ever does write a dull one, he’ll only remember the bright ones.

His midnight watch never happened. Even though he was sleeping in his assigned bunk, no one could find him there when he was called to report, so he slept blithely on until 6:00. Maybe he’s lost so much weight off his skinny frame that he was absorbed into the “thick” Navy mattress.

He got two letters from Dot today and has answered one, but the other must wait for another time.

Dot’s weekend flew by! The only thing she accomplished was to help in the decorating of her room. She, Ellie and Joyce have turned their space into a cheerful, spirit-filled oasis of holiday delights. Only 2-1/2 weeks to enjoy it before leaving for the real holiday delights of home!

The whole house has been lazy today. Everyone just lounged around in their pj’s all day, listening to the radio. She feels a bit guilty, with all the studying she should have been doing, but she’s still not feeling “too brisk” and she’ll take any excuse she can find for getting out of work.

The girls have gotten silly, making it impossible to write. Besides, there’s nothing more to say except that she loves him and hopes to someday stop being his favorite fiance and become his favorite wife.

Calling himself her “Li’l USO Commander,” Dart warns Dot that this letter will be short. He has an 8:00 watch and he must do some laundry before that if he hopes to wear clothes during his liberty. “This can be only three pages long, at most – probably only two. I wish it could be longer. Better still, I wish the same wish I’ve wished each time I wrote for two years; that we’d not have to write to the one we love more than anything else in the world, but that we’d be expressing our love in the countless other ways people use when they are near each other. You, whether you know it or not, were with me every minute of that trip yesterday.”

He talks about how they were looking at the charming scenes of Charleston together. He could almost feel her shoulder against his arm. He cherished the brush of her hand across his cheek. She was there in spirit, but he was terribly lonesome for the part of her that wasn’t there.

His enchantment with his host city has not faded overnight. “I think you’d have loved Charleston yesterday. It was so soft, and pretty, and homey in the yellow winter sun. There’s something about a little brick cottage covered in ivy and flowering vines, with a big chimney at each end and a hearty door in the middle; a roof of purplish tile, and small panes of glass separating the greenery within from the wild greenery without. That ‘something’ makes me desirous. The desire of living there with you and having our family grow up in such peaceful and homey surroundings.”

“Dot, my love for you is so deep-rooted that everything I do, from the time I awaken and see your picture to the time I turn my back on it so I can dream of it, is dedicated to you. …I listen to music, and I’m dancing with you. The empty seat beside me in the movie is for you. You, not some sailor, is the person who walks with me, works with me, sits on the bus with me, takes liberty with me. Yet, though you are always with me, I miss you always.”

He’s getting quite frustrated with no mail. Why can’t the post office get her letters to him in a timely fashion?

The office recomputed his points at 28.5. He thinks it’s 28, which feels safer to him. He won’t get too eager if he keeps the number down. He’s 10 points below the number needed for discharge. “Oh Time! Oh, Tempus! Please keep on fugitin'”

He vows to think of her as he walks his beat tonight. If she were here, he’d kiss her with his eyes open so he wouldn’t miss an instant of seeing her.

And so his promised three-page letter ends on page six.

Now Dot is prepared to listen to Dart’s tales of the CO2 fire extinguisher. Her physical science test is behind her, she got a B and she can focus on something else. Last week she flunked a biology test and got an A on the other. Sadly for her, the one she flunked was worth more than the one she aced, but there’s nothing to be done about that now.

She was sure he would take her scolding well. “That’s one of the things I like so much about you; you can take suggestions gracefully and really do something about them.” She has noticed how much more cheerful and positive his letters have been lately.

Regarding his concern that they had offended her mother by staying up so late together during his leave, she makes a sage observation: “I’m sure Mom didn’t object one bit to having us sit up late. That’s one of the advantages of being the fourth one in a family of love-sick kids. By the time it was my turn to sit up on the ‘couch of honor,’ it was taken for granted we wouldn’t be going to bed very early.  In fact, one night when we did go up to bed a little earlier, Mom asked if we’d had a disagreement. Confidentially, I can think of lots of things I’d rather do – one in particular. (As if you didn’t already know what I was thinking!)” Why, Dot! You little vixen!

The other night, Joyce and Dot were discussing their first love letters from their respective men. Dot’s first letter from Dart is far different from Joyce’s first letter from Bill! “I’m glad we held back some, though, ‘cuz now they mean that much more.”

She asks if Dart’s kidding about what her thoughts of them five years from now entail. She envisions him coming home to her every night after work with a big grin on his face. Then, they sit down to dinner and his grin fades, because he sees what they’re eating and how she’s prepared it.

Okay, it’s agreed. If they have time in their life once they’re together – which already seems pretty crowded – they’ll need to try roller skating together.

She wonders if he has considered writing children’s fairly tales for a living. She enjoyed his little fantasy about the men and the sidewalks, although it was six-pages of nothing she can really “answer.”

Her cold has gotten quite nasty and she feels miserable, so she’s heading off to bed to try and sleep it off. His idea of a photo for her parents is a great one. They’ve often tried to take one of hers, but she doesn’t want to part with any of them.  She’s happy his picture also says “I love you” back every night. “Isn’t it wonderful the feeling is mutual?”

In rapid-fire style, Dart shoots out all sorts of news from the John R. Craig. He’s had a miserable day: rain, no mail, a dirty job to do in the morning, no fresh water to clean up with, a job to do that no one wants to start and he’s tired from being on watch half the night.

Workers are scrambling all over the ship, 16-hours a day, welding pipelines through fuel tanks. There are oily spills, hot metal, smoke and poor ventilation everywhere one looks. It was into one of the empty, smelly, stuffy fuel tanks that Dart had to go last night with his trusty little red fire.

Also, someone has been breaking into the ship’s stores over the past couple of nights, stealing eggs, milk, and cheese. This morning there was a full inspection of all spaces on the ship and great numbers of things were confiscated. (His camera remained undetected!) The new, unpopular executive officer was very angry as more “missing” items were discovered and reclaimed.

“Across the pier from us is a ship which was decommissioned a couple of days ago. Last night our nosy exec wondered why the lights which are usually on over there, were off. The guys he found over there are now in the brig, and the girls won’t work in the Navy yard again when they’re out of jail. The sailors were members of the John R Craig’s crew. It was a sordid mess to see as the exec had them lined up in the glare of the unshaded lights on deck. He had his gun ready to use as they awaited the Shore Patrol wagon to arrive. Looked like the newspaper photos of a raid on a shady night club.”

“Aside from this tale of crime and corruption, I have only love to talk about today. I surely wish I were in the same mood I was in last night. Then the words would come to me just as fast as I could make my fingers move. That’s what I get for using up all my words last night.

He wishes they were anywhere together, inside, watching this rain – even in the car where the cop said “Let’s go!”

Another mail call — another disappointment. No mail for Dart.

In spite of her valiant efforts, Dot was unable to fight off the flu bug and is now in the hospital! The doctor seems to think she could be there a few days. She marvels at how Dart could have withstood eight months in the hospital, when her eight hours have driven her mad.

She’s plagued by a runny nose and a terrific headache, but thinks this is all too much reaction. It’s some consolation to have Dart’s picture with her and to know that he loves her. Also, his 14-page masterpiece has kept her company today. He can continue to write to the regular address and Ellie will bring her the letters.

“I’ll try to do a better job of this letter-writing tomorrow.”

Today, Dart writes on beautiful new stationery – an early Christmas gift from his folks. It’s payday, and he must hurry if he wants to collect his fourteen bucks. In January it’ll go up a little bit and he doesn’t plan of spending as much, so he hopes to save up some cash.

The latest word on his cruise is that the Craig is slated to leave Charleston on January 7, arriving in San Diego on the January 25.

He received two letters from Dot today, but is still missing the one from November 30. He hopes she gets over that cold quickly. He’s getting one of his own and now he has to go outside and stand watch in 33 degree rain. “I’ll write when I get to the hospital,” he jests.

After leaving to collect his pay he writes, “There. I’m a capitalist again.”

He went into town last night looking for silverware. He learned that the Lyric pattern is made by Gorham. He was finally able to see a brochure with the picture, but has yet to see the real thing. It’s quite different from the sketch Dot made, but he likes the real design even better than her memory of it. His second choice would be “Orchid,” but he doesn’t know who makes that one.

He goes on for quite a few paragraphs about some house ideas he just found in “Life” magazine. Radiant heat, large picture window, and all sorts of new technology are what really turns his head.

She sure can dream up beautiful things, but a Christmas visit from Dart is one dream that can’t come true. It’s neither in the cards, nor in his budget. He’s sure there’s a note in his Navy file to the effect of “Give this guy every raw deal available in the Navy.”

It sounds from Dot’s letters that she and Ellie are becoming good friends. Naturally, he credits Dot’s natural friendliness for wearing the girl down. He likes being able to make a friend out of an unfriendly person.

Off he goes again on another topic: He likes her idea of their first night as husband and wife being equally foreign to both of them. He is so grateful that he didn’t fall for the talk during all those bull sessions about how much he was missing, how it was important to gain experience for the sake of his future wife. “When I think now of the great wrong I’d have done to you, and to both of us, if I’d done those things even before we met, it makes me very happy to have resisted such things.”

For more than a page, he discusses his loathing for the double standard that some men seem to impose on their wives. “I rebel at such smallness. Men claim to be the stronger sex. Let him prove it. Let him prove that he is strong of mind as well as muscle.” That’s our boy!

The decorations in her room sound nice and gaudy and cheerful. Charleston is all decked out in colored lights and he likes the results. Now, if would only snow a bit.

He trusts that the question mark she placed after “someday to be your favorite wife,” was just her kidding around. He too is tired of waiting, but he knows that they will because there is such a permanent reward awaiting them.

There were no letters from Dart to fill Dot’s time in the hospital today, but she got a letter from home with everyone’s Christmas wish lists. “Not that it’ll do any good to tell me. When I open my billfold lately, it just looks at me kinda queer and says, ‘Are you kidding?'”

Her ring is so sparkly today, as it so often is when she’s feeling poorly. She credits it for making her feel so much better today. In fact, the doctor says she’s never seen a patient who recovered from the flu as fast as Dot has. There’s a pretty good chance she’ll be able to leave the hospital tomorrow.

Dot is in a ward with three other girls, who have all heard all about Dart. “All the kids think you’re much too good looking for me. Therefore, I didn’t go into details (much) about how super you are in every other way, or they’d know you’re much too good for me.”

Right now, she should be studying science or English, but she’d rather write to Dart, so she continues with the letter, answering the last one of his that she’s received. She’s glad he likes “Lyric,” she thinks he should consider writing history books (in addition to the children’s stories she suggested yesterday?), and yes! She knows exactly what it would mean to be able to share a Pullman and still be accepted in polite society. Can’t happen soon enough to suit her!

They can consider both of their Christmas lists closed, but he should be warned that he should expect a mighty meager token of her affections. She has begun to notice that they don’t pay college girls very much these days. Speaking of college girls, she still finds it hard to believe that she is one. “What would you think of me if I didn’t finish college” Mom will be awfully disappointed if at least one of her children doesn’t graduate from college.”

Although there are no little men to roll up the hospital floors, there are nurses who come at 8:30 and turn out the lights. In fact, here comes one now. “Goodnight, my Darling. Sorry you can’t be here holding my hand, but knowing that someday you’ll be able to makes things almost bright again.”

Neither Dart nor Dot wrote on December 6, so I’ll return the day after tomorrow.

Dart begins with two confessions; the first is that he did not write to Dot last night. The second one is harder for him. They promised to be completely honest with each other, so he feels he must just blurt it out. So, here it is: There are some very pretty and friendly  girls at the USO. One of them smiled at him last night.

Okay, so he’s having a little fun at Dot’s expense. Yes, a pretty girl smiled at him, but there’s no girl on earth who holds any interest for him ever since he laid eyes on Dot. “There’s nothing else for which I live than to be a good and provident husband, for you, and for no one else. In order to live for you, or for me, or for anyone, I must eat, and it’s time for breakfast.”

His P.S. on this brief note begs for no retaliations for this little stunt. Then he adds another letter later in the day.

The dateline on the second letter notes contains the words “Four years after!,” referring, of course to the Pearl Harbor attack. I wonder if there have ever been four more eventful years in the span of humanity than these four.

He’s distressed to learn she’s in the hospital and points out he doesn’t like it when she gets sick any more than she likes it when he does. He trusts she’ll hurry and heal.

Yesterday brought him lots of “reading material;” a letter from Dot, one from her mother, and a long one from his mother. He also referred to Dot’s “self-styled dime novel,” which was probably the 14-pager she wrote on November 22. His mother advised him to forego the portraits and think of something else to send Dot’s parents. Unfortunately, that suggestion came a day after he’d had his portrait taken. Now he doesn’t know if he should cancel the order or move ahead.

Although he can’t recall what date she must be back at Kent in January, he’s acutely aware that she’ll be home two weeks from today. How he wishes he could have caught a break and been able to spend some time with her, either in Cleveland or in Greenwich. But he did catch a small break this morning. Most of the ship’s crew was placed on restriction today for staying in bed after reveille. Dart had just awakened to “answer nature’s call,” so he wasn’t in his bunk when the officers made their rounds to take down the names of the slackers. Consequently, he was able to go ashore.

Last night he finished his shopping for her and had it all wrapped up and mailed from the USO. After saying that he hopes she likes it, he chided himself, asking “Why did I say that? I’d surely not send you anything I didn’t think you’d like!”

During his liberty last night, he and another fire striker saw a movie called “Too Young to Know.” It sounds like a sloppy melodrama about kids who marry after a whirlwind romance, knowing nothing about each other or how to be married. They quarrel and separate, not knowing the wife is expecting a baby. Later, he finds out she gave the child up for adoption and they fight some more. They go before an elderly judge, come to an understanding, remember that they love each other, and are reunited with their three-year old son who whispers something shockingly funny to the judge at the end. Wow, what a cheesy plot that is!

He assures her that they have already passed through many of the obstacles that this young couple faced. First, he likes her friends and believes she’ll like his. They trust each other and are very fond of each other’s families. He feels sure that he and Dot will be as happy and well-suited as both sets of parents are. He gets a thrill thinking about how happy they’ll be when they’ve been married as long as their folks have been. Now there’s a guy taking the long view. “Thanks goodness that we’re both old-fashioned in so many ways and modern in so many others. We couldn’t be happy as individuals or together if things were greatly otherwise.”

He’s not surprised his Pop spilled the beans about Dart’s efforts to secure a 72-hour pass. In fact, he’s glad she knows because now she’ll have a better understanding about why he was so disgruntled with the state of his life in the Navy.

Now he’d like to start an argument with Dot. She states in her letter that she has no patience (and therefore, no virtue). He offers evidence to the contrary. “If patience is a virtue, it’s added to all your others, for it is surely a virtue to have had patience with me and my bad nature and my (Navy) hard luck for these two years. There are not a great many girls who can, could, or would do what you’ve done. Of course neither of us is happy at the prospect of waiting more years to be married. As we look back on it, time has flown, hasn’t it? …Why then, is it not reasonable to believe that it will continue to have wings, and that five years after we’re married, we can look back and say that our courtship wasn’t too long after all?”

That supper she fixed for the girls sounds dandy to him. Could she do up the same menu for him, perhaps without the clam chowder?

Yes, it would be great if she would renew “Life” magazine for his folks. The whole family would appreciate that.

Yes, he’ll try to learn a few dance steps if he’s in town long enough. He has at least 36 days left in Charleston because a leave party just departed and is due to return at that time.

Always the teacher, he cannot resist launching into a long biography of his favorite composer, Tchaikovsky. Dart’s penchant for absorbing facts never left him, often to the consternation of his children, with whom he was always eager to share his collection of knowledge.

He asks her to thank Holly for his letter, which he enjoyed receiving. He mentions an obscene bull-session going on near his bunk. Without meaning to, he has learned some new dirty jokes (which he refrains from sharing with Dot.)

“Dot, Darling, you asked why you can’t write about love and then proceeded to do a beautiful job of it, and to pay me some compliments. Men are vain creatures and to be loved so deeply by a girl like you is a compliment to anyone. I hope I’ll never neglect those ways to show you how much I love you, whatever they are. Dot, I love you now, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you, my love grows deeper for you all the time, and I want to love you all my life. Nothing I can ever do or say will prove that love. It’s beyond comparison with any known medium. We’ll make a lovely couple, Darling.”

“You asked me how many other girls I loved, besides the prettiest one. Well, I love the tenderest one, the jolliest one, the one who writes me so often, the one who sits up all night with me, the one who loves me, and you. That makes seven. Of course, all of them are you and you alone. Every time I see you I think of how wonderful you are in so many ways, and how pretty you are in the bargain, and I wonder just how I rate so high. Don’t gimme the old comeback about being fat, either. …You’re getting no Charles Atlas for a husband. Now that I’ve tried, in my thoughtless was, to nip your protest in the bud, will you accept my views on your pulchritude?”

He’s sure his mother wasn’t too upset by them staying up so late – maybe just a bit surprised to see that from her little boy. And, by the way, he’s pretty sure he understands what Dot means about the thing she’d rather they were doing, and he shares her opinion. If only they could get past that two-year wait until they could be married!

They have a date to go bowling, roller skating and swimming. For the latter, she might want to dust off her Red Cross life-saving skills.

Again, he begs her to get well soon.

Dot writes this from the living room of Dart’s parents’ apartment. “As soon as they let me out yesterday afternoon I called your folks and broke it to them as gently as I could that I would pay them the honor of a visit this weekend if they thought they could bear it. Surprisingly enough, they accepted my offer, or rather my threat, and here I am.”

Now she and his folks are enjoying Pepsi and ice cream while they listen to a musical quiz show on the radio. “It’s hard to write this while trying to make your family think I know something about music by answering some questions.”

She was thrilled to get a letter from Dart that spent all the pages saying the beautiful things he usually reserves for the final paragraph. Her letter from Harriet, while nice, didn’t offer the same thrill.

She didn’t write when she left the hospital because she still felt a little shaky and went straight to bed. Now she has lots of homework to make up for, especially in English. She must write two themes, do 10 grammar exercises, memorize 50 spelling words and prepare an oral book report – all by Monday! There’s also science and biology to complete.

Her future father-in-law interrupted the letter-writing to bring her donuts and milk. “Dart, I wish I could impress upon them what a marvelous time I have when I come here and what a relief it is to know there is such a wonderful place to visit after a week or so of school. They seem to have the idea that I won’t be happy unless there are several young people around, but that’s not the case at all. It’s a relief to get away from so many of the same kind of people for a while. Besides, your parents are still a couple of kids themselves. They always gripe about being old. Why, if I can act half as young as they do when I’m 50, I’ll be thoroughly pleased with myself. Every weekend I leave liking them even more than on my previous visit. Wish I could write it to them the way I do to you, but they’d just think I was being polite.”

Just as Dot got home yesterday, her roommate Joyce was leaving for the hospital, despondent that she would miss out on a weekend with her future in-laws. The flu epidemic at Kent has gotten so bad that they’re thinking of closing the school!

She’s excited that college basketball season has begun. She’s sorry that Dart’s new executive officer doesn’t seem too nice, but she reminds Dart that he’ll only have to deal with him for a short time.

Looking up from her letter, Dot caught Helen Peterson making a ridiculous face at her husband. She was embarrassed that Dot saw it, but they all had a good laugh. “See what I mean when I say they act like a couple of kids?”

Sleepy and still a little weak, Dot decides to go to bed and dream of Dart. She feels his presence so much when she’s sleeping in his room.

Dart writes again from the USO, having come to town for the main purpose of calling Dot. He had no letter from her today and he’s eager to learn how she’s doing with her flu. Sadly, a fleet of ships came in from Pacific duty today and the town is overrun with sailors. There is a delay of five to eight hours on all calls to the north and west. He’s frustrated.

He brought his little camera to town with him and took lots of pictures of the old section. Now he only hopes he can smuggle the camera back on board without it being confiscated by the Marine guards. While he was walking around, he bought another Christmas gift and a box of Christmas cards.

He wrote a little about why the houses of Charleston and Panama resembled each other so closely. Both were built in a design that would take best advantage of the tropical breezes for cooling the interiors. He drew a very elaborate sketch of a typical Charleston style home, complete with ornamental railings. I had no idea my dad had any sort of artistic ability, because I never saw him doodle, draw, sketch, or paint. In fact, the occasional illustrations in places in these letters have revealed that he had a knack.

The USO is hopping tonight. Across from where he’s sitting, Gershwin plays on the phonograph. The lounge plays host to a stumbling, uncertain boogie beat. The hallway channels the noise of shuffling feet, clicking heels, and voices. Overhead, “the ceiling thrumps with the rhythm of a band transmitted by the feet of dancers.” Underscoring the cacophony is the PA system squawking for “Joe Zizzokus to come to the telephone centah.” He can’t take any more, so he closes the letter.

Gee, he wishes he’d been able to reach her.

Dot saw several of Dart’s relatives today as they stopped by the Peterson’s apartment to borrow something or to have dinner. She felt a little shy when meeting his cousins Jim and Dot and she’s sure they left feeling very sorry that Dart has saddled himself with such a dumb female for life.

She cheated a bit on the book report. With no time to read plus prepare the oral report, she managed to finish the Reader’s Digest condensed version of “Good Night, Sweet Prince.” Now she must memorize the report by Monday morning. “And I’m still asking, ‘Why did I come to college?'”

Next Tuesday, she’ll have her final theme exam. She’ll have to write a 500 word theme in class. If she misspells three words, writes one incomplete sentence, ends a sentence with a preposition or has three grammatical errors, she’ll fail the theme and must continue writing until she can pass.

She’s frazzled and tired. There’s no more time to write.

This is a strange letter from Dart, written “at very nearly the end of the second day of my fourth year as a peon of the United States Navy. …It’s also the second day in a row for which there has been no letter from my fiance’. Oh, my dearest, how I hope that this lack of letters when news is most desired is a failing of the mail system, and not an indication that you’ve become even more ill.”

He muses for a long paragraph about why the human mind tends to think of bad and morbid things more easily than it does the brighter, cheerier possibilities. Is it ego? Is it fear? In the end, he concludes that he’d like to study psychology to be able to understand his ponderings.

Suddenly, he has an epiphany that his letters have gradually lost hall trace of humor. He no longer writes tongue-in-cheek. He rarely grins at something he’s written. Even his old trick of satire eventually turned to bitter sarcasm and turned him bitter himself. He can’t recall what it feels like to pen a pun or turn a phrase, but he’s going to try to tickle a little humor from these dry old letters one of these days.

Thinking of tickling has caused him to daydream of the times when either he or she did a little tickling of the other in the midst of a deep embrace. Ah! The joy those memories bring. “Gee, Dot, I’m almost as excited from thinking of a composite of all our nights at your house and all our nights at our house as I was when we were so enthralled with each other, in person. I want to make love to you forever. Darling, I miss you so much. Please get well soon.”

Dot is happy to learn that Dart will still be in the country for Christmas. even though they won’t see each other, maybe he’ll be able to call her that day. If he can, he should let her know what time he plans to call so she’ll be sure to stick around the house.

Going through his recent letter, she responds to several points: She hopes he’s received her letter of Nov. 30 by now, It was a long one, and although not up to his standard masterpiece, she still wants to get his reaction to it. She hopes his cold is much better by now because there’s a certain person in Kent who has fallen hard for him and wants him to be healthy and happy. She’s glad he likes “Lyric” for the silver pattern. Shall they agree that’s their pattern? With 1700 pennies collected so far, they may have almost enough for a place setting already! ($17.00 for a place setting of sterling? Wow!) She saw the issue of “Life” he referred to, but didn’t spend much time on the article about houses. She’s sure the ideas are great. “Do you come with the house, or can I get you separately beforehand?” She’ll send his uninspired Christmas gift soon and begin planning something better for next year. Will they be together for the holiday in 1946? He’ll probably want to spend his first post-Navy Christmas with his folks, and she can’t imagine a Christmas without her family, but there’s no need to fret about that now. Yes, he’s right about her and Ellie getting along well these days, but it’s not all her doing. It’s been a 50-50 proposition, and Dot’s glad it’s working out so well.

There was some more excitement at the house this evening when Joyce came home with a sparkler on her finger. Dot and Ellie took her out for a celebratory dinner of burgers and fries.

It’s 1:00 AM and she has class tomorrow. That means it’s bedtime.

Dart is overjoyed by the news that Dot is out of the hospital. He’s proud that his fiance is so “rugged.”

He’s writing this hasty letter during a brief lunch break. He’s been working on a big gun all morning, and he and Blevins have an errand to run after lunch.

Mail delivery brought him a nice bounty today, in addition to Dot’s news about being released from the hospital. He received a package from home with a Christmas tree, baseball cap and some snacks. He’s afraid to open the snacks because of a new executive order that food cannot be prepared or consumed in unauthorized areas. He also received a home-planning questionnaire from “Better Home and Gardens,” which he’s working on in odd moments.

He’s trying to single-handedly keep the Post Office in business. Yesterday he sent several letters out to universities plus he mailed a batch of Christmas cards. He’s done all of those he can until Dot sends him the addresses of her relatives.

He can think of no new way to tell her today that he loves her, other than to say “I love you, which doesn’t satisfy him, but that’s all he has time for today.

Dot admits to being a little worried when she began to read Dart’s letter today – the one where he made two confessions. But she smelled a rat early on, and now she says any USO hostess would be a fool not to smile at him. Why, she smiles at good-looking boys all the time.

She’d love to answer his 9-page masterpiece today, but she has a huge test and must use every moment to prepare. If she can register for next semester’s classes before she leaves on Christmas break, she can get back to Kent on January 3. Otherwise, she’ll need to return on the 2nd. I’m sure she’ll want that extra day with her family, so she’ll managed to register, I’d bet.

She loves him and thinks about him every minute. Thoughts of their future together occupy the forefront of her mind every second of the day (which makes it hard to concentrate on anything else!) But to think about how much she loves him is what keeps her happy. Now she must go to class.

Two letters from Dot make Dart a happy boy, in spite of being cheated out of half his liberty. The ship had some dock trials today that caused a massive power failure on board and a delay in starting liberties.

While in town, he selected a pose for his portraits. He’s had two sent to Dot (to be shared with her parents.)

Yesterday, while walking across the deck, a large and evil seagull attacked him from out of nowhere with devastating results to his shirt. There was nothing to do but laugh at the situation, right along with all the guys who witnessed the dive-bombing, and all the guys they told.

He sure hopes his folks are right about an April discharge. He’s heard three different rumors, and only one of them is good news.

Isn’t it fun that both he and Dot wrote almost the same thing on nearly the same day – the thing about how youthful both sets of parents seem? I find that happens with surprising frequency, when they cover the same topics in letters that end up passing in the mail.

Does Dot remember hearing about Oliver, the torpedo man whose wife was injured in a crash of the Empire State Building elevator? He just read an article with an update that Betty may someday walk without the aid of crutches. She’s called the Sunshine Girl by hospital staff because of her indomitable spirit.

“Okay, lovesick sleepyhead. I’ll excuse you for once. But that three-pager surely didn’t seem as though it were written by a sleepyhead. Golly, I love you, Dot. …And stop passing out this borscht about you being a dumb female. You ain’t and you’ve proved it.”

He’d love to go “over the hill” and see her and his parents over the holidays. But he fears if he went over, he’d make a career of it and never come back. Better to hope the Navy sees fit to give him a two or three day pass so he can visit them legitimately. If they would be so kind, he’d feel obliged to return to duty.

He confesses that he’s sneaked by on lots of book reports, just as Dot planned to do after her hospital stay. Once, he found a condensed book by James Hilton, but later learned the condensed edition covered only about half the book. So, staying up until dawn to finish the real thing, he ended up comparing the two versions, and got an A on the report.

Gently, he wishes her luck on her theme, specifically that she’ll have no grammatical errors, and no misspellings, like using only one “m” in grammatical. (hint, hint)

He thinks Lyric runs about $22.00 per place setting.He’s only saved about $1.06 in pennies since leaving Norfolk, adding about six cents on each liberty. If only he had roommates who would add to his stash like Dot does. Still, he thinks Pop’s idea of using the pennies for their silver pattern is a good one. It looks like they’ve settled on the Lyric pattern.

A few letters ago, Dot wrote about her “dream man” before she met Dart. As it turned out, Dart has so many qualities that she could never have dreamed up that her former “dream man” pales by comparison to him. Dart says he could have written nearly the exact same paragraph about her. “There are so many traits that I overlooked in my dream girl that appear in you and that I like so very, very much. No one can dream up the countless little traits which endear you to me.”

Some of their long talks have dispelled some of his fears, but there’s still one that haunts him; the fear that he will someday inadvertently say or do something that would hurt Dot. “Oh, Darling, to hurt you now would be to kill me, or wish that it had. I love you. I’m proud of you. It’s the highest compliment to be loved by one like you. It seems too good to be true that we’re to be married. Maybe Heaven does exist on earth.”

“I love you for the things you are, the things you do, the things you write, the things you say. I love you for all you’ve been, done, written and said. I love you for the dreams we hold together, for the things we share. I love you for the prospect of being your husband, for making a home with you, for all that stands for.”

Dot spoke with a psychologist today to discuss the results of her psych testing that was done when she started at Kent. There was some good news and bad news. She starts with the bad: She’s emotionally unstable, too dependent on other people, and only of average intelligence (making her a bad match for Dart, she claims). I can’t imagine a 19-year old woman more emotionally stable than this one, so either she’s a bad test-taker, or it was a bad test! I also don’t get the “too dependent on others’ bit, unless that reflects her need to make other people happy. And phooey on the average intelligence thing. What kind of intelligence is that test measuring, anyway?

But, there’s good news, too: She’d make a good wife and mother,a good elementary school teacher, and she has marked musical ability. The doctor wants her to take more music aptitude tests, and thinks music will make her a more effective elementary teacher. “It was very interesting to talk with Dr.Boch, but it didn’t improve my ego any.”

She has not noticed a lack of humor in Dart’s letters – just maybe a different kind of humor. What she loves about his letters is that she can actually hear him saying the words that he writes – he writes exactly the way he talks.

She thought they agreed that she can squeeze harder than he does, but whoever is the best squeezer, they are in agreement that it’s much more enjoyable to squeeze something that squeezes back.

Does he like the little Christmas tree his parents sent? She found that while shopping in downtown Cleveland. The chocolate kisses are also from her, to hold him over until she can deliver the “real thing.”

Five of the 10 girls in her house are sick with the flu, so it’s been practically a clean sweep of their little corner of the world. How they can all get ready for exams under these conditions is anybody’s guess. But, her letters next week will be even shorter than her recent ones. There’s just not enough time between now and Christmas break to accomplish all that she must. “Still, my love for you will increase by leaps and bounds.”

She also included a list of addresses for her relatives so Dart can complete his Christmas cards.