November 26, 1943

This was an uncharacteristically down beat letter for Dart. No letter from Dot – perhaps because of the holiday delivery. He was gloomy about how raw his skin was from being in bed for nearly two weeks. He had lost several pounds from his already “sparsely covered” frame.

He admitted to not feeling like writing, and begged Dot’s forgiveness for his complaining.

Short and none-too-sweet.

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