Once again, Dart writes from port. If he’s spending so much time in port, why has there been no mail?
If it weren’t for the cool breezes at night, he’s not sure how anyone could survive the tropical mugginess. As he sits in the little fire control “shack” he can see stars in the clear sky, and hear sounds from the many ships anchored nearby.
The Haggard is showing its movie at one end of the ship while the destroyer tied up next to her is showing a movie midship. That gives the men on both vessels a choice of which old, bad movie they want to watch. Dart and his buddy Donn Byron have opted instead to write to their sweethearts from their little workshop/shack. Among the tools, work benches and other supplies of their trade sit the photos of Dot and Pauline. “They’re both much prettier and more wholesome-looking than the pin-ups which grace (?) the bulkheads. Of course, I favor your picture.”
There are numerous little shacks or other small areas around the ship where specialized work is done by day, and bull sessions or private chats occur at night. In these spaces, there’s always a coffee pot brewing. Most guys can also find a snack of fried egg sandwiches or something similar to relieve the tedium of the late night watches.
“We love our little comforts. The ship wouldn’t be home without them. Of course, the food we use is not exactly always obtained honestly. Once in a while a loophole or two is tightened up, but it isn’t long before another one opens and we’re eating again.” It kinda sounds like adolescent boys and their clubhouses making raids on Mom’s kitchen, doesn’t it?
He agrees with Dot that June’s full moon was a beautiful sight, especially with huge tropical clouds and an island as the backdrop. It made him especially lonesome for her. He doesn’t know what exactly it is about those moons that makes everyone want to fall in love, but it sure does work!
As they write, Donn is exchanging a few slams with Pauline about her cooking, leading Dart to ask about Dot’s cooking. “I’ve had some delicious cookies and fudge from you. If it’s all as good as those were, I’ll be happy. Or is it best that we plan for me to be a very successful writer and we hire a cook? I’ll have to sample some of yours pretty soon.”
The officer of the day just stopped by to shoot the breeze. He complains that some of the guys are working the censors pretty hard with all the letters they write. He also remarked that some on board can sling a “pretty good line of guff” to their sweethearts. A man named Hite who has just joined them says it’s best to go easy on the lines before marriage so you can lay it on thicker afterward in order to ward off disillusionment. “He’s been happily married for nine years and he loves it. I love to hear him talk about his wife and little boy.” How sweet – that Hite feels that way and that young Dart appreciates it.
He wishes he could stay up all night telling her of things he remembers – memories that come wafting in on the gentle breezes. He dangles before her the mention of the neighborhood scents that came into his window as he sat and did homework; the woodsy aromas of Uncle Guy’s “country estate”; the early dawn fogginess witnessed by swing shift workers like himself. He wants to share it all with her.
“All the love I have to give is yours for the rest of my life, Dot. I feel happy all over every time I think of being engaged to you! Oh, for September, when we can let the whole world know!”
There’s that September thing again. Surely he knows something.
Dot was thrilled to get a letter from Dart today, written on the 24th, postmarked the 25th and arrived today! Great service. She hopes that means he’s on his way home. She deems this letter the most welcomed letter she’s ever received because she’s been so worried about him this week. What a relief to know that he’s okay!
She’s enclosing an anniversary present for him which he can consider an early gift for the September 25th anniversary of the day they met, or the first anniversary of his July 2 trip to Greenwich. In either case, it’s a new portrait of her. “My hair looks like I just got out of bed, which means it’s a good likeness. Bet you get awfully tired of that stupid grin.” (I’ll bet he doesn’t!)
