During this long break in letters between Dot and Dart, I’ve decided to post some of the letters Dart wrote to Ruth Chamberlain over the years of his correspondence with her daughter. The one featured today was written on September 23, 1944. To refresh the reader’s memory, Dot is living back home in Greenwich, working at Franklin Simon, and spending most of her evenings babysitting with the Miller boys. Dart is in Fire Control school on Treasure Island in San Francisco, having recently completed a leave that took him to Greenwich.  Below is his letter to Mrs. Chamberlain, verbatim.

A whole month ago, when you were in Sunapee, you wrote me a letter. Now, with rather doubtful alacrity, I attempt an answer. Every time I sit down to write a belated letter I vow either to myself or my correspondent that I’ll never again let a letter remain unanswered for so long. Oh well, life is, on the average, long, and and I may yet get around to answering my mail on time.

Dot sent me some pictures of Sunapee. It looks like the ideal spot for a restful vacation. Looks to be as nearly like Heaven on Earth as you and she describe it. Those views from the front porch make me want to lie there and watch the haze on the horizon. Must be really beautiful both  morning and evening.

Thanks for your congratulations on my marks. The surprising thing to me is that they’ve kept up so well. The first month was elementary review of my freshman work at Case, so I had an excuse. Even now the training I had at Case is coming in very handy. Those who’ve never been to college, or who have never been interested in this type of work, are having a rather tough time of it, but they’re managing rather well.

Sad to say that about the only really lucrative employment I could make of the principles I’m learning is in slot machines and juke boxes. Far be it from my plans, though to make a career of the Navy. Perhaps with some heavy pondering I can think of some goldmine in old fire-control equipment. Know anyone who wants some problems solved mechanically? Perhaps some integrations, some mathematical predictions? Or maybe you’d like to fire a furnace by remote control, or even do a washing the same way. I’ll keep you in mind.

You ask if I’m an enthusiastic swimmer. The answer would be that I’m enthusiastic, but am, alas, no swimmer. I’ve been learning (they call it) for a long time, and I really enjoy it, but it’s taking a long, long time to learn. We have a lovely pool and good instructors, so at last my efforts are beginning to show. The most fun I have is with the elementary backstroke, the least is when they “request” us to leave solid footing for a second or two as we plunge from a 20-foot platform. That annoys me.

Mrs. Chamberlain, I wish you could see this beautiful state. From first appearances, it isn’t much to look at or write home about, but when an acquaintance is struck with the climate, and a close friendship is formed with the parks and suburban areas, the real beauty of the place is evident.

San Francisco is everything that song and story have proclaimed it to be. Hilly, picturesque, crowded, noisy, busy, its very appearance is romantic, with streets running almost vertically up the hills from the Embarcadero, the Spanish and Chinese, and other buildings gleaming in the sunlight. Above all, stand the two famous bridges, one silver, the other red, reaching into clouds above the highest point of the city. At every turn, every liberty, and every new day, the beauty of this awesome place so far from my native Ohio becomes more impressive. Just to make things even, there are plenty of sights and impressions which recall the days at home, and make us all wish we were there.

The day I arrived home from Greenwich I was out driving with my brother, and we met, quite by accident, three of my high school classmates. The following day we had lunch together and now all of our little group is split up. One fellow is a navigator on a Liberator bomber, making regular trips from England. The Marine sergeant is now in Pearl Harbor, after passing through Treasure Island en route. It’s strange the way no matter where the members of my rather small class go, there always seem to be two together, somewhere, at the same time. “We’ve” met in Cleveland, Washington, England, France, Pearl Harbor, New Guinea, Los Angeles, Sioux City, Australia, St. Louis, and numerous army and navy bases.

We can’t lose when friends can meet in all those places.

I enjoyed your letter very much and would like to hear from you again. Now I’m tempted to repeat the vow I mentioned at the beginning of the letter, but from past experience I know it would be useless.

I have no doubt that a letter like this would have made my grandmother a very happy correspondent with its articulate young author. She loved words, appreciated wit and admired intellect. In Dart’s letters, she would find all that, and more.