It’s another balmy evening as Dart stands watch, but, like his watch mate who will leave the ship tomorrow for discharge in Chicago, Dart would trade the tropical breezes for a blast of winter wind, if he could be home.
Today Dart received a letter from some girl named Miss Lanernau, and a box of goodies from Dot. He’s sampled everything but the toothpaste and the figs. He’s sure the talc will go a long way toward preventing heat rash and skin diseases should he end up in the tropics again. Her fudge was delicious, and he’s sure she’ll turn him into a regular gum chewer. Speaking of the gum, he’ll try to save some so he can pick up some special deals that can be found on Pacific islands for the price of a few packs of cigarettes and gum. He’ll also save the film she sent for use in the tropics. He likes the picture of her that she included and wonders where it was taken.
He’s finding it hard to write tonight because every word takes him on a little memory detour. “I think of our first moments alone in Bruce Park; our drive down that little lane where we took pictures, and how shy you were when we were posing for that ‘real close’ picture, (I was shy too) and how embarrassed I was at something then, (and still am, ’cause my embarrassment shows in the picture). The next day was a picnic on Island Beach. You packed us a great big lunch and I was too much excited and in love to eat my share. Gosh, we didn’t talk much at all for the two days. Weren’t we strangers then? Remember our walk around the smaller island and what a thrill it was (still is) to hold hands as we walked?”
“The next leave was a ‘killer’, too. We kept the lights on that first time we stayed up late, but that first time was the last night of my leave… I went home to that leave not knowing if you’d be there or not, and you were there. I was worried about you, and suspected the trouble, by instinct or telepathy or something, right from the start.” (Is he referring here to the time she was so sick from her period and they had their first intimate talk about such things?)
The next time I saw you we almost missed each other. Did you happen to see the approving looks Puckett and Martin shot at me? I was afraid you did, and I’d have been embarrassed if I’d known for sure. We sure tore around on that 72. Also got in some time alone, too. We turned out the lights that time, for sure.”
“Golly, we’ve seen each other lots of times now! Can it be true that the next time I see you I might be wearing civvies? I hope so. I like your ideas of going to church.”
In reading over what he’s written, he realizes he never actually thanked her for the package, so he does that now, in his P.S.