Dart is Officer of the Deck from midnight until 4:00 in the morning, putting him in charge of the outfit. He calls himself “King Snipe.”
He gives Dot a run down of his liberty in Stockton last night. He and Leffman met up with Chudy, and the other two guys grabbed a couple of pints. When the others got too drunk to suit Dart, he headed back to Shoemaker. Neither of his companions had returned when he got up for chow at 0700. So much for his last stateside liberty.
Tomorrow Dart will be a “busy little demon,” packing his sea bag, mending some things, mailing letters and books home, and doing a little shopping at Ship’s Service. This will be his last chance for a long while to fill out his personal stores with a fifth pair of dungarees and some Ivory Snow laundry flakes. This boy sure knows how to live it up, right?
The draft definitely leaves tomorrow for some undisclosed departure point – maybe Treasure Island, San Diego or some out-of-the-way place. From there, they’ll board a transfer ship.
Tonight he attended a USO show at camp. It featured lots of great acts and was headlined by Harpo Marx. Dart says it was the funniest (and least “dirty”) USO show he’s ever seen.
Like another Thursday night of long ago, there is no time for love, tonight, no matter how much love he has to express. The pressing matters of the world take priority over the “sweet nothings” he’d like to write. “I can’t see why they call those endearing whisperings ‘sweet nothings’ when they mean so much to two people who love each other as much as we do.”
In addition to military matters, he must bow to social order and answer some long-ignored letters from friends and family.
Dot’s letter strikes a perfect tone for a young man off to war. It’s tender and loving, let’s him know how much she wishes he didn’t have to go, yet is filled with hope and confidence for his safe return.
Being no “Hard-hearted Hannah,” she was not able to hold back her tears completely when she learned of his imminent departure, but she only shed a few. She knows that with both Dart and Gordon in the Pacific, Japan doesn’t stand a chance.
According to Dot, those who say that war is hell surely have it right! Not just for those fighting it, but for those at home, too. Although they’re not sacrificing much except their men folk, when a particular man is all you want in the world, it’s “no bed of roses” to worry about him and wait for him to return.
She’s grateful she was unaware of what a miserable Christmas he had. She’d envisioned him laughing it up at a USO show and enjoying a fine holiday meal. She thought the Navy was supposed to make the guys as happy as possible on the holidays, but perhaps they hadn’t heard about Christmas at Shoemaker.
Another full moon will go to waste tomorrow as she wonders where he’s headed. While she’s thinking of him, she’ll be talking Janie’s ear off about him during their cousin’s sleep over.
Although Dot wasn’t home last night when his telegram arrived, her mother told her today how impressed Arthur and the rest of the family were by Dart’s considerate gesture. The whole family seems to love this young man, but only a fraction as much as Dot does.
Wherever he goes, she begs him to take care of himself and “don’t get your feet wet.” (Is that the Navy equivalent of the advice to soldiers to “Keep your head down?”) She says if he sees a ship in the Pacific with a great big sailor on deck, sitting in front of a fan and mopping his brow, Dart should just swim on over and introduce himself to her brother.
“God bless you, Dart, and please hurry home to someone who loves you more than anything in the world.”
