We have two long letters today. As is often the case with his long ones, Dart’s today covers a wide range of topics and emotions.
He begins with a debriefing of his weekly tests. Did he study enough? Was he over prepared? Will he maintain his high class rank or take a tumble? To save you the suspense, I’ll tell you he received a 92 out of 95 on the Power Train test, dropping him to second in the class. He scored even higher on the recognition test for Japanese aircraft. He divulged a little study aid that he learned; the US has given the enemy planes nicknames. The boy names are used for fighters and observation craft and the girl names are used for bombers and transport planes.
It turns out there is a huge theater across the street from the barracks on Treasure Island that generally plays pre-first-run movies for a nickel. He went for the first time this weekend and enjoyed the show. I wonder if military installations are as well equipped now as they were back in the WWII days.
In typical Dart fashion, he chided himself when he realized he’d started two of the first three pages with the word “well.” “Ought to strike oil soon, at that rate,” he quipped. That’s a pretty slick line, Dart, but not very deep.
He expresses some frustration at the slow pace of the mail in recent days. The airmail Dot sent days ago has still not arrived, nor has a small photo album his mother mailed a while back.
Dart agrees that Dot’s parents seem to get the idea of how much these two mean to each other. “Do you think they approve? I hope so. Maybe I’ll ask ’em myself in my next letter (or my next personal appearance). That is – if I ever get back from the Sea.”
He comments that the kids Dot cares for sound like wonderful little tykes. He recalls a high school teacher once commenting that you can easily tell a person’s character from the way children respond to them. She claimed that kids could not be fooled. He’s glad that the children don’t understand the sadness of war, and he suggests that while Dot is saying her prayers, maybe she should pray that there is no more sadness for either herself or Dart as a result of the war. If the road to romance is often rocky, he hopes that their separation is the only rockiness they must endure.
Dart writes that his parents were apart for the entire duration of the Great War, and for some months afterward. He knows they were just as much in love as he and Dot are, so he assumes the separation was heartbreaking and discouraging for them, too.
The closer Dart gets to leaving the country and fighting the continuation of the war his father fought, the more regret he feels for little things he’s done. Even more for the things he’s left unfinished. He’s haunted by the knowledge that there’s a possibility he’ll never get to do those “undone” things. He begs Dot’s forgiveness for his morbid attitude.
He wraps up page six with some comments about her job changes and their anniversary date having passed recently. Then, “since they have no secrets,” he tells her about an article in a recent Reader’s Digest called “Why I am for Roosevelt.” He likes what the article says and agrees with most of it.
While Dot’s letter is a long one, she writes it in installments across three days. Poor busy girl!
She was ecstatic to receive two letters from Dart after a three-day drought. It makes her feel even worse about never having time to write to him.
She confirms that, indeed, Mrs. Miller does plenty of house work, but with a large home and two small children, there’s always plenty to do. Dot is considering living at home during the months of November and December. She expects to be so busy with the holiday rush at the store that she’ll be too busy to care for children when she gets home.
Regarding Dart’s swimming lessons, she writes “You sound really enthusiastic about swimming now. Let’s make a date to go swimming next summer at Island Beach. I’d even settle for Lake Erie if you promise you’ll be there.”
Writing on October 2, she’s terribly excited at the prospect that Dart might get a leave before going to sea. She called her house after receiving Dart’s letter, to see what her family thought of her going to Ohio if Dart gets that far east. Her sister said “You’re practically on your way.” Her mother didn’t say “no,” but thought Dot should wait for more details to unfold before she got too keen on the idea. Her father responded that Dot was old enough to begin making these decisions for herself, but he’d like to have a serious chat with her before she goes.
Predictably, Dot scolds Dart for his pessimistic talk of maybe not getting a leave and never coming back from the war. “It doesn’t do any good and often can do harm.” She says if he can’t make it to her graduation in January, it only means that they’ll see each other that much sooner. Ever the “Can do!” gal, that Dot.
She hopes he’s fully recovered from his punch in the eye. She also says she was surprised to find that she understood most of what he wrote about the gun “director” that he’s studying.
Her eyes are getting heavy and her 6:30 wake-up call comes too soon after her head hits the pillow at night. She will continue to try and write more often, but she is unbearably busy.
