Well, my confusion over a missing letter just got either better or worse. In a letter dated Nov. 14, Dart writes about the topics that Dot responded to in her letter of the 13th! I suspect that pages 3 through 5 of Dot’s letter yesterday were mistakenly filed with her original two-page letter of that date when, in fact, they were written after she had received his letter of today. Clear as mud? Bear with me and we’ll untangle this mystery together.

Dart actually sends two letters written on this, his first day at Shoemaker. Judging from the first paragraph of letter #1, he’s not off to a very good start. “It’s now morning of our first day at Shoemaker. What an ungodly mess! I’m despondent.” He goes on to say that he and his cronies from Treasure Island arrived together last night, three hours late. It took another three hours for them to collect their gear and get to bed. The foul place is huge and muddy – even the paved roads are buried in mud.  He’s eager for his six weeks here to be over. (Which is saying a lot, since his next location is probably aboard a war ship!)

He promises to try his best to get a new picture of himself to send  her. He’d like to get one that’s as life-like and attractive as the one of herself that Dot gave him.

He tells her he must stop this pleasant occupation of writing to her and get on with the dreary pastime of living. He’ll try to write some more tonight. (Which he did.)

The day apparently did nothing to improve Dart’s opinion of his new digs. In spite of the sunshine to replace yesterday’s rain, he’s still looking forward to getting out of this place. He says chow was tolerable, except for breakfast, which smelled like his basement before the kittens had been housebroken.  Eeew!

He’s heard that the mail gets fouled up a lot around here. Right now he’s hungry. The barracks are cold, buggy and drafty. They have to walk 50 feet outside to wash, shave, etc. “Oh heck. Too much not nice, so I’ll quit until I can write a civil letter. Things have come to a pretty pass when a guy can’t even say something nice to his sweetheart. I love you very much and wish you and your letters were here. Their presence (yours and your letters) make life bearable.”

Dot, too, wrote two letters today. The first was a quick morning note informing Dart that she has a second opinion from another doctor about the state of her health. The gist of it is that she needs to get more exercise. She’s making plans to go bowling once a week and must warn him that she plans to beat him the next time she sees him. (I think she means at bowling.) Dot is relieved, and knew that Dart would be too. I was surprised to hear that the second doctor was a woman.

In the second letter, she writes that she’s happy to learn Dart’s train trip wasn’t too uncomfortable and that he was able to get a seat. She hopes he thinks their time together was worth the trouble of the trip.

She graciously grants him permission to put ice down her back anytime…if he can catch her. She doesn’t run very fast, unless being chased by a bull… or a sailor with ice.

The plans she’d made to go bowling with El tonight were thwarted by the over-crowded lanes. She guesses they’ll try again on Sunday afternoon, because a gal  must get her exercise.

She takes a serious tone as she asks once again to give her some ideas about his Christmas wishes. And he shouldn’t even think about giving her some answer like “a leave,” which is entirely beyond her power to get him.

The pictures they took didn’t turn out as well as she’d hoped, but she loves the one of him grinning like a Cheshire cat. If he wants any of the enclosed snapshots enlarged, his wish is her command.

She asks if Shoemaker has him peeling spuds yet. She thinks they’ll make him into a passable wife before too long.

Her sign-off tonight is “Yours ’til Franklin Simon pays a decent salary. Which means, dear, you’re stuck with me forever!”

Dart begins his letter by recalling that one year ago today he was emerging from the fog of surgery with a “gay nineties bustle tacked on his caboose.”

Today, he began his per-embarkation processing:  a slightly more thorough version of the standard Navy physical, typhoid shot, films on malaria and social diseases and lectures on war bonds, insurance, pay, etc. Dart has decided to increase his war bond allotment to one per month. He’ll receive just under $80.00 a month as pay, so he’ll put $30 into savings and have plenty for all his other needs. My question is, where does one spend money while onboard a warship for months on end?

He calls the physical a farce. Unless a major defect shows up, everyone passes. Everyone lines up, strips to his dog tags and waits in line for a series of cursory checks. Heart rates are checked after a “run” of 3-4 steps. Dart mentioned his back issues and was told he’ll have a more complete exam before being assigned to a ship.

At evening mail call, Dart was surprised and delighted to get the letter Dot mailed last Saturday from Cleveland. He’d been told it could take several weeks for mail to find him.

The weather at Shoemaker is too cold to wear “whites,” so pea coats are a must before noon and after sundown. Everyone was happy about a second day of sunshine, but the mud prevails.

He was glad to hear she got to see a Shaw High School football game. He once dated a girl during football season because her house was very close to the stadium so he could park his car in her yard.

He’s not surprised that everyone at Andrews was happy to see her. Why wouldn’t anybody be? He suspects she’s been exaggerating his virtues for him to have received such positive reactions. He assures her she’ll have no trouble “hanging on” to him, because the feelings are mutual. He has convinced the fellows in the class that there is no better girl in the world. “Some take issue (gallantly) and stand up for their wives, but I know.”

He likes her brother’s philosophy of remembering the past, looking forward to and planning for the future,  and ignoring the present. He finds the present difficult to ignore at times, but it can be accomplished by attending to the other two. He says Gordon sounds like a guy Dart would like to have as a friend (or a brother-in-law). He hopes they get to meet while in the Pacific – if they both have to be there.

His last paragraph brings the war a little closer than usual. “Any day now, Dot, I may be put on draft for some far corner of the world, and then the cloak of security must be placed on my movements. My letters may not be as regular as they have been. You know the story from having a brother in the Pacific. You’ll be having a sweetheart there soon, Dearest, and that sweetheart will be remembering you constantly, looking for every letter, and planning for the day we can be together forever. Dot, I’ll not lose faith as long as I have you.”

In his P. S. he begs for more news on her health because he worries.

Dot’s a little sad because this is the first day since she’s been home that there is no letter from Dart. She’s hoping this afternoon’s delivery brings one.

She writes “A week ago at this time we were eating that delicious turkey with all the trimmings. Could you go for some of that right now? Even more to my liking, though, would be a drive through Euclid Creek Metropolitan Park in a Ford V8, with the best doggone sailor in the world. My heart was pounding so hard that I couldn’t have talked even if I’d known what to say.”

She continues the letter a little after midnight with the announcement that there was no letter from him this afternoon. Again she recalls what they were doing at this time a week ago. “It was raining, just as it is here tonight, and we were driving in it. I can almost feel your arm around me and hear the purr of the motor. Gee, but I love you!!!”

She wonders if he was aware that she was looking at him while he drove. She finds it hard to look at him when he’s looking directly at her because she just melts, but she loves looking at him when he’s unaware of it. He’s so cute when he’s intent on something he cares about.

Her sister-in-law got two letters from Gordon. She had written him a couple of weeks ago about her session with a Ouija board during which she asked where Gordon was. It said he had been in Tahiti, but had just returned to New Caladonia. Well, Gordon confirmed that the board had been correct. He’d been to both of those places recently!

She’s eager to hear how he likes Shoemaker, but she’d prefer to hear that he was being sent to the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Such a dreamer, our girl.

She bids him goodnight, wishing they could say it like they had 168 hours ago.

Dart writes this short letter before going out on liberty. It may be his last chance to visit the East Bay Model Engineer’s layout, and who could pass up an opportunity like that?

He spent the day doing lots of laundry and general cleaning of his gear. He’s been enjoying the wrist watch he picked up while in Cleveland and is already regretting that he’ll have to send it back home before he ships out. Apparently, salt air has a way with steel.

He’s tickled that both of them were wishing, possibly at the same time, that they were on the same train, moving together rather than farther apart. He confirms that he appreciated the fact she and his mother didn’t cry at the station. The best thing for him was when he looked back over his shoulder and saw Dot and his parents smiling at something together. He dared not look again, for fear he wouldn’t see her smile.

He muses that his parents must be a little sad, knowing that when he gets back from the war he won’t be spending that many more nights under their roof. Still, they’re grateful that he’s fallen in love with a girl who is so much their ideal for him.

He certainly noticed her weight loss and thinks she looks even prettier than before, which he didn’t think was possible. He wasn’t sure if it was polite to mention it, but realizes now he guessed wrong. “It’s a very pleasing appearance you put up, Dot.”

Dot begins her letter while at work in the store. There are no customers to be found, and she says that’s Roosevelt’s fault – the Republicans are staying home and holding onto their money before he takes it all away. She then goes into a stupid FDR joke not worth repeating. She can be pretty touchy if someone teases her about her political views, but she’s not so sensitive of others, I’d say. I doubt Dart will mind much, though. In his eyes, she can do no wrong.

Hours later, she resumes her letter, still in the deserted store. To pass the time sales clerks have been doing sketches of plaster scenes in the store windows. She includes her drawing of two angels holding lambs. As she says, “Guess I hadn’t better take art as a means of support. I’d starve within a week.” I’ll let you be the judge when you see her sketch below.

Here’s a short letter from a tired Dart. He was picked for galley duty today, requiring him to stand from 8:00 AM until 6:30 PM, except for his own lunch and dinner times. He also was on duty for all four mail calls of the day so he doesn’t know if he received any letters. His assignment in the galley was to guard the coats of the men serving in the chow line. The only good thing about that task was that he’s not required to wear his whites, so they’ll stay cleaner.

He got a letter from Pop yesterday saying that he and Mom missed having Dart and Dot around. The place doesn’t feel the same without Dot. They seem to be quite fond of her.

He had great fun at the model railroad club the night before, after his two-hour bus ride into Oakland – even got to operate some of the trains in their giant layout.  Sometime he’d like to build an engine that works better than the one he showed Dot while in Cleveland.

The leave was so short that he hasn’t yet awaken from the daze he was in being with Dot. In fact, he says, he hasn’t been out of his daze since he fell in love with her. But now, he’s too tired for inspiration, so he must get to bed.

Dot spent the evening making an apron and some potholders for Dart’s mother, so there’s not much time to write. Besides, there isn’t much to respond to from his note that arrived today.

Was it gentle chiding when she commented that if Shoemaker is as bad as he claims, the South Pacific should seem like Utopia? She doubts the guys who are there would think so.

She hopes her letters have arrived by now. She’s sent one every day since she last saw him. He may not think she knows how much a letter can mean, and her surroundings are, no doubt, better than his, but his letters mean as much to her as hers do to him. She’s babysitting at the Miller’s tomorrow night, so if she can think of more news, he may get a long one from there.

It seems like she’s been so much more dedicated to writing since she moved back home and cut down to only one job. She’s making a valiant effort to keep a certain sailor’s morale up.

Dart was overjoyed to get six letters from Dot today, but his greatest joy was the news about her health. He’s never been so worried in his life and he’s grateful his prayers were answered.

He got off chow duty this afternoon but must report to midnight watch shortly, so he’s going to bed early and try to catch up on some sleep before reporting for duty again.

“It seems as though we’ve fallen in love all over again, doesn’t it? That makes it even better; falling in love when we’re already head-over-heels in it.”

It seems like “old times” for Dot, writing from her little apartment in the Miller’s house. The boys have grown since she saw them last month and she was delighted that Chris remembered her right away. She’s decided that with the exception of Toni Gale, little boys are cuter than little girls. I certainly hope she changed her mind less then a decade later after her first two children were daughters!

The Millers went to a huge dinner party where El happens to be working. She’ll be serving and cleaning the kitchen. Dot would rather have the babysitting gig, but El will make more money. The other day, El suggested that the two of them pool their money at the end of each week. Dot thinks it’s a great idea, because last week she sat home while El worked five nights in a row. “If we go by that system, someone’s going to get rooked, and I don’t mean me.”

Dot comments that she knows Dart is happier now than he was a year ago, but she’d rather he be safe in Great Lakes hospital than at sea. She asks if there’s any chance that he’ll be kept in the country. I rather doubt the Navy would go to all the trouble of training him how to fire the big guns aboard a ship, let him graduate high in his class and then keep him state-side. It doesn’t seem like there’d be much call for his new-found skills in the good ol’ USA.

Gordon has told similar stories about the infamous Navy physicals and shares Dart’s opinion of them. In fact, her brother had to have three physicals before they let him into the Navy. The test results never changed but they just got tired of examining him, so they let him in at last.

She’s looking forward to going to the last Greenwich High School football game on Thanksgiving Day. It’s with their rival Stamford and both teams are very good this year. She reminds Dart that he did, in fact, tell her about the girl he dated because she lived so close to the stadium. “We don’t live too far from the Greenwich field, if that’s any incentive to take me to a football game sometime.”

Did she ever tell him that she’s a pretty good football player? She was the captain of the Alley Cats team which was chased by the police three times for playing on private property. “Mama’s little angel? I’m ‘fraid not,” she says.

She wonders if he gives the same sales pitch about her as she gives about him. She has several women at work almost convinced they married the wrong man. She’s had to tell them that there’s only one Dart to be had, and he’s spoken for, so they’ve all decided to keep the husbands they have.

Responding to Dart’s question about Michael Smith – Dot’s “most hated person,” she declares the subject closed. They passed each other on the street the other day and he asked her for a date, but she’s not having any of that. He’s apparently quite a creep.

She’s happy that Betty B is living with them while Gordon is away. Then, if Dot doesn’t hear from Dart for awhile, she’ll have Betty’s shoulder to cry on. Dot finds the idea of going days without a letter from him “most distasteful” but she will continue to write to him every day while he’s at sea.

For now, she must hit the sack and dream of him.