This letter from Dart is hard to read because he used both sides of onion skin paper. The contents, however, are easy on the heart.
He’s standing watch again, but it’s a slow night with nothing to do. He recalls that she said she could get in trouble for writing to him while on the job; he’s also breaking the rules by doing so, only he could get shot for it!
Earlier, he wrote a letter to his beloved high school English teacher, Miss Palmer. He included a similar sermon of the power of well-used language that he’d included once in a letter to Dot. He explains that he’s not referring to the use of “who” vs “whom,” or the proper verb form for the third person singular subjective. He’s more interested in someone who can use the right words to explain complex ideas so that similar ideas or things are excluded in the definition, resulting in a clear description of that which they’re trying to distinguish from all other things. With an attitude like that, he was born to excel in his future field of technical writing and editing.
He hopes Dot gets to go bowling and improve her score. (Isn’t that a game where low score wins, he asks slyly.) She may be able to beat him at that, but he thinks after he takes a Charles Atlas course, he could soundly whoop her at a no-holds-barred wrestling match like the one they had that Wednesday of Thursday night in Cleveland. Now doesn’t that conjure up some enticing mental images?
He’s happy to see he’s received a promotion in her eyes. Where he used to be the best sailor except for Gordon, he’s now the best doggoned sailor in the world.
He wishes they could practice some more gear-shifting now, only without the cracked cylinder head that occurred before. He mourns the fact that cars after the war will be automatics, eliminating the need for that delightful mode of one-armed driving they have perfected together.
The idea of a scrapbook telling the story of Dot and Dart intrigues him. Is there anything she’d like him to send to include there? He wants it to hold a special place in the house they’ll build together someday.
She has been doing such a great job in her letters of telling him how much she loves him. He feels his words have fallen flat, but he loves her more than words can say.
Now he must kiss her goodnight again. He recalls that the moment in Cleveland when she told him he needn’t ask her permission to kiss her because she wasn’t planning on kissing anyone else was one of the biggest moments of his life. I’ve heard that story all my life and always thought it was so endearing. Obviously, so did Dart.
After returning from bowling, at which she fared as poorly as last week, Dot and El sat at their kitchen table picking meat off the turkey. She was enjoying herself so much that she wished she could share the fun with Dart. She got to thinking that if she can’t send him turkey, she could send him cookies, so she set about making him a batch of Toll House. “I hope by the time you get them they won’t be all crumbs, and stale ones at that.”
She is astounded that Christmas is just four weeks from today. The radio played a number of carols today, including I’ll be Home for Christmas, which always makes her cry. She recalls that when she heard that song last year, she prayed the war would be over by this Christmas and that everyone would be home safe and sound. Here it is, another Christmas with the war still raging. She can’t imagine the same will be true in 1945!
She inserts this charming little paragraph, “Say, I’ve been meaning to ask what are you planning on doing for the rest of your life? Think you’ll be very busy? Thought maybe we could keep each other company if you had nothing special planned.”
