Looks like Dart dodged a bullet! He made it out the gate for liberty today without incident. His liberty card becomes legal tomorrow.

He’s hanging out at the Hospitality House in Oakland, waiting for a free meal. He’s with three buddies from Shoemaker, including Leffman who was supposed to be in the hospital getting an operation. He offers no explanation on that.

The real impetus for coming into town tonight, as he mentioned in yesterday’s letter, is that the East Bay Model Engineers club is hosting their monthly operating night, allowing members of the public to run the trains. Dart doesn’t see how tonight’s event could top last month’s. Hmm. I’m not sure I’d be discerning enough to spot the difference between a great operating night and a so-so operating night. Perhaps I lack a certain enthusiasm for the hobby.

Shoemaker announced a new setup today for both liberty and work details. The only benefit to the poor enlisted men is that they can now wear dungarees on work details, saving their blues. “Dungarees” is a word I hope comes back into fashion some day because it’s so much fun to say, but I’m not holding my breath.

Dart regrets leaving camp before mail call because he’d been told there was a letter from Dot in his stack. Oh well, something to look forward to when he gets “home.”

He gets a nice long break from official duties for both Christmas and New Years, if he’s “still around to collect.”

Just to keep things interesting, Dot opens her letter with a bold “Dart Darling!” She knows what kind of a mood he was in when he wrote his recent “hell-raising” letter. She’s been in a similar state for a while, as her Christmas spirit came and left again in a flash.

The Franklin Simon Christmas party went off well tonight. Most people were feeling quite “happy,” but Dot only drank coffee, eschewing the 10 cocktails she was offered.

She’s pleased Dart was able to get to the concert the other day because he seems to enjoy them so much. She says she’d love to go to a concert with him some time, but then, a trip to the city dump would be great if they were together.

As so often happens, Dart and Dot were both listening to the same radio program last week. They both enjoyed “The Hour of Charm,” especially the hymn “In the Garden.”

She wants Dart to tell the guy who didn’t believe in marriage that he is “off his trolley.” She thinks Gordon’s war marriage is one that will stand the test of time. (and it certainly did! They celebrated their 60th anniversary, with Betty passing away the next day.) After the war, she hopes to have proof that post-war marriages can also be successful.

Unless the Navy delivers mail on Sunday, this letter will not reach Dart before Christmas. She’s looking forward to calling his folks on Christmas Day, if she can get a line through.

His Christmas will not be much, she knows, but she’s confident that he’ll have some in his future that are twice as nice as the best one he can remember. She thinks they’re in agreement that things usually work out the way they’re supposed to. She’s been trying to figure out the reason they’re “supposed” to be so far apart, and it eludes her. “I guess God’s keeping the reason to himself.”

Here’s the paragraph I’ve been expecting in response to one little part of his recent letter. She says she’ll be babysitting on New Years, so she’ll have no opportunity (of desire) to get drunk. But what the heck does he mean when he says he’ll be thinking about her from his little bunk at sea?! She asks if he has orders, or is that just a hunch he has? Surely he can’t expect to drop that casual little bomb and expect her to just accept it with no further explanation.

She ends with an emphatic statement – “Oh, I love you so very much! The next time we see each other, if there’s no one else around, that’s the first thing I’m going to tell you.”

We knew it was coming. Dart writes the hardest letter he’s ever had to write, to say that by the time Dot reads this, he will be gone from Shoemaker. This morning he initialed his name on a roster of 6,000 which leaves the camp on December 26.

He has made the decision not to call either his parents or Dot before he ships out. He’s decided there would be too much sadness to bear. He expects to be at sea by January 1, possibly en route to Pearl Harbor or Australia. “Only the Lord and the US Navy know where we’re going. And they can’t tell you for security reasons.”

He warns Dot that his letters for several days may  be short, sketchy or non-existent. Who knows what to expect.

Last night he had an unbelievable liberty. After getting a free meal at Hospitality House, he and his buddies went to the Southern Pacific Station to bum another free dinner from the USO. He and Lefty got to talking to an engineer who invited them into the cab of the engine. After the train left, the switch tower operator invited them all up to tour the tower. The four buddies then went to the operating night of the model railroad club until the other guys went out “beering.” Dart stayed until the club event ended.

He has 10 million things to do on his final liberty before he goes, including shopping, letter writing and the endless laundry.

A recent letter from Dot was signed “your own,” a term they both use frequently. This time it struck Dart how much those two words mean to him. He hopes that as they get farther apart geographically, those words will pull them closer together.

He urges her not to cry because he didn’t call or because he’s gone. “It’s not forever.”

A rushed but happy letter from Dot informs Dart that she and El have spent the day decorating their huge house for Christmas. She wishes he could see how beautiful it looks. Her brother-in-law, George, will take some photographs on Christmas Day and she’ll send him some if they turn out. It’s hard to imagine what Christmas pictures would look like in black and white, but I think that’s all that was available in 1944.

She tells Dart the tree is ten feet tall and four feet wide about half the way up. She hopes her last work day before the holiday goes as quickly as today went.

She misses him and sends all her love to the “most wonderful boy in the world.”

The opening paragraph of Dart’s letter might well be the most disparaging reaction to Christmas in history. He hurts, he’s tired, and his spirits are “as low as a patrolman’s arches.” He’s glad Dot can’t see him when he’s like this or she would never consent to become engaged when the war is over. He cannot wait to get out of Shoemaker.

The whole camp slept through breakfast chow, and having missed dinner last night, that set Dart off on the wrong foot. Then he got called to a work party where he and three other guys did 90% of the work and the other 12 just goofed off. After slaving for hours cleaning the huge patio area of the Hostess House he stood in the chow line for two hours for a mediocre meal. Then he got pulled into another work detail at the warehouse, moving baggage and sweeping out the whole place. Although they had to unload trucks filled with heavy sea bags, they were not permitted to use the warehouse dollies which were on reserve in case an officer happened to show up and wanted to move his bags. “How any officer can know about stuff like that and then look his men in the face and be an ‘example’ to them is beyond me.”

He hurried to the Western Union office to try to send telegrams to Dot and his mother, letting them know that he wasn’t shipping out tomorrow, but he got to the office one minute after it closed. When he plead his case to the guard in the office, who reamed him out for wearing dungarees (the uniform of the day, by the way) in a restricted area, the guard told him to go cry on the chaplain’s shoulder.

During it all, he missed two mail calls at which he had letters waiting for him. He could have especially used letters on this worst Christmas Day of his life.

Sometimes it just isn’t fun being in the Navy.

He sent her a new address for when he’s shipped out – now scheduled for Dec. 29. He warns her that after he leaves Shoemaker, his movements must be cloaked in secrecy and his regular letters will cease for awhile and will be subject to censorship when they resume. Censors won’t mess with letters from home, so she can continue to write anything she wants, but he will need to learn how to write for a “different audience.”

Having vented and brought her up to date on his moving plans, Dart turns to answering Dot’s most recent letters. He’s glad El is thrilled with her engagement ring. How he looks forward to putting a ring on Dot’s finger! This war can’t end soon enough to suit him. He hopes she survived the grueling retail rush and that by now she has received the three gifts he sent her.

He sure would like to be there to see that snowfall in Greenwich. Snow is lovely in Cleveland, but in a town as pretty as Greenwich, it must be the “nearest thing to Heavenly.”

He wants to remind his parents that he still remembers them, so he thinks he needs to quit now and write them a letter. He draws a triumphant sailor, with arms stretched up over his head. He tells he that’s him, feeling much better since “talking” to her for awhile.

If Dart’s letter was the gloomiest in the annuls of written language, Dot’s may be the most effusive and enthusiastic. She loves the beautiful stationery he sent. She adores the album of Bing Crosby records. (Those old 78 rpm records held so few songs that albums were actually sets of several records, weighing several pounds.) The picture he sent of himself is the best she’s ever seen and she loves him and the gifts more than she can say. “Oh Dart,” she exclaims, “I love them all so much, and you so much, and everyone and everything so much, I’m ‘fraid I’ll burst.”

She uses a couple of pages describing her Christmas loot. A luxurious light green puff (comforter?) so soft it nearly puts her to sleep just looking at it; several records; multiple boxes of stationery, including some from Chris and Eric who told her it was “just for Dart;” clothing, picture frame, “sweet potato;” violin bow, books; slippers; and a very nice phone chat with his mother.

Her father made her cry when they presented El with a beautiful handcrafted, cedar-lined walnut hope chest. He put his arm around Dot and said “We wanted to make one for you too, Sis, but we couldn’t get enough of the right kind of wood. We’ll get it finished for you soon enough.” She was so touched that he thought of making one for her. And what a beautiful piece it turned out to be. It still holds a prominent place in her bedroom.

Later came the Christmas feast with Harriet, George and Toni Gale in attendance. The menu was as long as Dot’s Christmas gift list. After dinner, she went to the Pecsok’s house to give the kids their gifts and Mr. Pecsok gave her something for Dart that she’ll send right along to him.

She took Dart’s new portrait with her everywhere she went and everyone agreed it was a great one. Her Uncle Ralph, the great kidder, kept stealing the picture and hiding it. She had to run all over the house looking for it. Another trick her family played on her was to hide all the packages that came from Dart when they arrived, so she wouldn’t know they’d come. At five past midnight, they let her open one package from Dart – the photograph. From then on, she says she didn’t care if she got anything else. Her Christmas would have been complete with just that.

Her day wrapped up at Janie’s house, singing Christmas carols.  She wanted Dart to know that the whole crowd drank a toast to him at dinner, so he certainly was not forgotten. Dot’s fervent prayer is that he will be able to join them for Christmas 1945.

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.”

Dart is still confined at Treasure Island. The Navy has a rule that men can only be held in the pre-embarkation barracks for 72 hours. That leaves just 42 hours until they must be returned to Shoemaker to begin their wait all over again, or be loaded onto transports.

Everyone is over their intestinal disturbance caused by Shoemaker’s horrific food. When they’re not standing in long lines for the superior chow at Treasure Island, they’re getting a little “sack duty.” I guess there’s not much else to be done but sleep while they await the next step of their adventure.

Dart transferred all his photos, accounts and identification into his new billfold today. Now he requests that Dot send more pictures to fill up the empty slots.

Recalling Dot’s practice of stepping on discarded Lucky cigarette packages for luck, he tells her that the only brand of cigarettes available here are Luckies. She has his mother and even Lefty jumping all over the place to stomp on the things. Doesn’t anyone throw things in the trash?

He ends by asking her to imagine a million of these pages filled with “I love you.” That’s how much he does.

Dot’s last letter of 1944 is one of her joyful, effervescent ones, full of happy reminiscing and high praise for Dart.

When Janie spent the night with her yesterday, all they talked about from midnight until 3:00 was Dart – how funny and smart and handsome he is. Dot read Janie some of his funniest letters, like the one he wrote when he came so close to getting a leave and then missed out, or the time he cut out a string of paper dolls to prove he had gone nuts being in the hospital for so long. Dot wonders how he can think up so much funny material, but I’d say she can hold her own in the humor department.

She agrees that the snapshots he sent of himself are not the best she’s seen, but she’s happy to have them. It looks like the photographer was lying on the floor to take them, but Dart is looking straight at the camera, so she likes that.

The store gave staff an unexpected day off today and Dot had the blissful experience of sleeping until 10:00 in the morning. Tonight, Janie’s dad, Uncle Ralph took his family and Dot to dinner and a movie. Although “Winged Victory” was about the Air Corps and not the Navy, Dot enjoyed it anyway.

When she came home from the movie, she hung out in El and Betty’s room, talking more about Dart. “I wonder how many times I’ve told people how we met and how I fell for you – Bingo – just like that. It must be in the millions by this time. And yet, with each retelling, I get the same thrill I got when all of it was actually happening. I can remember certain things you said and be almost as happy as when we were together and you were saying them.” She goes on to recall the details of their few dates – her kicking a leaf under the sofa in her dorm, the young sailors from Case who were so proud of their new GI raincoats, the first kiss Dart gave her at her friend’s house. “I want to sing and shout and let the world share my happiness.”

She gets a little philosophical about the current state of the world. There are men and women who are building instruments of destruction and others who are perfecting drugs that can heal a wounded soldier so that he can go back to battle to be injured again. “War is something I have never understood, and God grant that it doesn’t last long enough for me to learn to understand it.”

Perhaps feeling a need to lighten the mood, she asks Dart if he’s begun his list of New Year’s resolutions. “My list is only begun, but at the top is ‘I highly resolve to love Dart for the rest of my life.'” I

Tomorrow night, Dot will be babysitting for the Miller children, but she’ll have company. Her new friend Nancy Lou Clapps invited herself over to help with the kids and have a little party once they’re in bed. Both girls will bring some Cokes and their record collections. When Dot asked Nancy why she wanted to spend New Year’s Eve that way, Nancy said. “I just love to hear you talk about Dart! You get so enthusiastic and your sparkle so.”

She wraps up with the news that every day she loves him twice as much as she did the day before. Then she advises him not to get sea sick.