Only one letter today, but it’s a WHOPPER!

Dart starts off talking about the longest letters he writes are to his friend the Marine Sargent, Fred Dixon. The letters are long because they discuss common memories of good times they’ve shared, what’s cooking with all their high school clan who are stationed all over the world, current events, etc. Because he is  determined to write a long letter to Dot tonight, he begins with his memories of their three dates together.

What a sweet and charming summary of their relationship to date. It’s quite obvious that both he and she were drawn together from the very first glance. It’s a romance that never wavered through years of courtship-by-mail, a long-distance engagement, and nearly six decades of marriage, ’til death did them part.

Please read this delightful account of their brief history to this point for yourself.  Then there’s lots of other great stuff about his daily life in the hospital and more memories of high school days in his beloved Cleveland. What a writer!

This was Dart’s response to Dot’s marathon letter.  He admitted that, just as the Andrews students were thinking what a waste it was to have a full moon shining over an all-girls school, the guys in the Great Lakes hospital were expressing the same opinion of a moon over an all-male hospital. He likes her idea of “making up for lost time” with full moons at some future time. But he was curious about Dot’s comments about them both being “naughty.” Dart asks, “Do you include yourself in that category? I thought I saw a halo over your head.”

He mentions the phone call again. He was so excited to hear her voice that he can’t remember much of what was said. “Golly, three minutes is such a tiny, precious time.” It makes me so grateful that we don’t ever have to confine ourselves to a three minute conversation.  About the only thing limited in our world is limitation!

He answered the question about birthdays and hexes and simply said that he’s never had a relationship last very long after he learned the girl’s birthday. “I’ll have to know yours eventually. Just wait awhile.”

He decided that after her urging he might decide to write to that “bag” in Cleveland who was trolling for sailors. “I think I already found what I was looking for. As far as I’m concerned, the best gal has won. Enough.”

He told Dot of a rumor that all these guys the hospital doesn’t know what to do with may receive medical discharges from the Navy. He’s ambivalent about that and hopes he does not have to make the decision.

His folks were not able to come for a visit, so Dart played the role of escort all day, leading other guys’ visitors to the proper wards. The ward also just got two WAVE (female) corpsmen today that apparently did not impress Dart much.

He hopes she enjoys the little surprise he sent her and that she has a great time at the dance. He dreams of her so much while writing these letters that he says she ought to be set to music. How sweet!

I think these two kids may have a future together…   

This letter from Dart takes a page from Dot’s book – it covers several days.  In the first paragraph, he admits he can think of nothing to write, so he’ll re-open the letter at a later time.

Fast forward two days. He is effusive about another phone conversation he had with Dot last night, after waiting one and a quarter hours for the opportunity. (Was there a long line of soldiers trying to call home? Did it take that long to get a connection to Greenwich? I trust we’ll never know.)

Dart’s opinion of the two Waves on his floor has risen since his initial mention of them. They earned the respect of several of their patients when they put a couple of vulgar guys on report for inappropriate behavior toward them, and those cads are now in the brig. So, how would women in the service today feel  in a similar situation? Would they expect to be treated respectfully (like a lady?) or would they believe that to demand a level of respect would be to set themselves above the men and thereby draw unfavorable comparisons? Would they be happy to be considered “one of the boys?” If there were a well-defined standard of behavior toward women, as there was back then, would there be an epidemic of sexual assaults in the military today?

Dad told a revealing little story about a volunteer job he and “Rosy” Rosen were drafted for. They were to report to the Red Cross office and help deliver holiday flowers around the ward. When they arrived at the RC office, no one was there, so they went to the canteen for a little snack. When they noticed that the RC office was occupied, they flipped a coin to decide if they would return to do their task or leave. They kept flipping until they got the results they wanted.

He talks a little more about the daily activities on the ward, and then tells Dot about a conversation he had with his surgeon that day. There is a weird little knot under his incision that the doc says will “eventually” disappear. By that he means between one and 10 years! After the incision heals and the bump shrinks enough, he’ll be returned to active duty.

His aunt sent him a personal little Christmas tree, which he donated to the common good and the guys in the ward decorated it. He wished Dot a merry Christmas, since this will probably be the last letter to reach her before the holiday.

Here’s a quick but newsy note from Dart. He was posted to the crew that scrubs the floors, but later transferred to galley crew to help serve meals and snacks. The latter job seems far more appropriate for someone who is still recuperating and may need additional surgery.

He describes the scrawny little Red Cross tree the patients have decorated with items found on hospital wards. It sounds like it may have been the inspiration for Charlie Brown’s notorious Christmas tree.

The least popular Wave has be reassigned, leaving the bright one on Dart’s ward.

He hopes the Railroad Brotherhood does not strike over the holidays, or it will be impossible to get the mail through between Chicago and Connecticut. Dart closes by wishing Dot a merry Christmas and sending her his love.

Dart observed his lonely Christmas by writing a long letter to Dot.

The letter is full of news about how he has spent his days recently. Today he is spiffed up in his dress uniform so he can attend a church service at 9:30 in the morning.  He tells of carols playing on the radio and the “up-patients” either helping the guys who are in bed, or just resting quietly. Their ward is barren of decorations except for the scrawny tree he has mentioned before. The next ward over has bows and wreaths all over the place.

He talks about the guys spending the day reflecting on how well they have fared this year, in spite of being in the hospital. I guess by this time, the war has gone on long enough that they know there are worse places to be spending the holidays than a hospital in Chicago, USA. Most of the patients in his ward are searching for boxes so they can ship extra belongings home when they return to active duty soon.

He describes his work on the small galley crew, helping to serve meals to the guys in the beds. The small, well-equipped galley is also a quiet place to eat and write letters.

Thursday evening, Dart attended a fabulous Christmas party at the hospital. There were several acts, including some Chicago radio personalities, magicians, piano players, etc. I love that radio personalities were such big deals then, before television emerged. Anyway, there was a huge feast for all, and Santa paid a visit.

Several weeks before, the Chicago Tribune had run a special campaign to find gifts for the military men in the hospital. Dart had received a letter asking what he wanted for Christmas. He’d asked for a particular model railroad car construction kit that was no longer on the market. The one he received was not exactly what he requested, but gratifying nonetheless, and he had already put it half together. He ran through a list of the other gifts he had received, including his favorite – a leather wallet from his folks containing  photos of his mom and dad.

He tells Dot he had put three hours aside on Friday to write to her, but instead spent the whole night trying to comfort a fellow patient who was in great pain. Eventually, that man was transferred to surgery to stop some horrible internal bleeding. Dart would much rather he’d spent the time in a “meager substitute for conversation with my family and with you.”

He envisions Dot having a wonderful holiday, surrounded by her entire family. He mentions that one of the Waves who comes to his ward is from Greenwich and went to school with Dot’s brother. Small world!

The letter has taken him all day to complete, in part because he was on escort duty taking visitors up to the wards. He also received a visitor of his own when a guy from Cleveland who was in Dart’s Navy company came to see him. While Dart has been in the hospital, his company has completed basic training and are headed home on leave. Dart is no closer to a leave than when he first arrived.

Dart has been in the hospital for 44 days and still, no one knows when he’ll be released. He sounds very positive, though, assuring Dot that he feels better than he has for a long, long time. He sheds a little light on the need for his surgery when he explains that prior to it, his knees were getting stiff from the pressure of the cyst. Now his joints are flexible and pain-free.

He has received his first letter from his brother, Burke, who tells him Cleveland is having a white Christmas. He seems impressed that Burke went the extra mile of sending his letter airmail. (Remember airmail?)

He launches into a humorous little bit about his recent lack of mail, concluding that “My friends have forsaken me for more worldly pleasures, such as eating and sleeping. Acquaintances look the other way. Mongrels scorn my very presence…Oh, what have I done to deserve all this?”

Immediately, he chastises himself for the complaints, admitting that he’s had a great pile of letters and small gifts to entertain him up to this point.

He tells Dot of the big song fest they had on the ward last night, with several former choir members (Dart included) joining forces on some old favorites.  He also relates that he was on escort duty again.

He tells that several letters to him have been lost in the mail. (Not sure how he knows this.) He wonders if that might be the case with a couple of Dot’s letters to him, since he hasn’t heard from her in quite a while.

He closes with “I’ve run out of room and things to say simultaneously. I could extol your virtues, but I don’t think you’d believe me.”

This is a short, sad little note from Dart. He’s getting desperate to hear from Dot, even while acknowledging how hard it must be for her to write while on vacation. He sounds despondent in the third and final paragraph when de discloses that his incision burst open and his wound begain to drain. No one knows how long he’ll be in the hospital.