I remain in awe that Dart could write such a long and cheerful letter while strapped to his bed in the face-down position. He must be motivated by love.

I grew up hearing about Dad’s lengthy adventure with his pilonidal cyst, but I’ve never really understood what his condition was. It’s a cyst that forms at the end of the spine – more common in men. It seems they were prone to infection or something, so no one could be deployed to combat during the war with such a cyst. In this letter, Dart mentions that he’s in a ward with 10 guys who are all in various stages of having them removed over the course of weeks or months. Here’s my question: If they were so prevalent in 1943, why do we never hear of them now? Has the human race evolved them out of existence?

Dart blatantly expresses his affection for Dot and compliments her on her clever use of puns. All my life I thought Dad was the punster in the family, but when I read these letters, I realize it’s a trait that runs strong through both sides of the family tree.

Dot is back – although it looks like it was not she who was “missing in action,” but her letters instead. Even with 3-1/2 years worth of correspondence between these two, I grieve the few letters that have been lost.  She has written so many letters to Dart while he’s been at the hospital that the mail carrier in Dart’s ward has already noticed the extra volume he has to carry!

Her descriptions of what’s happening in her life are so entertaining that I forget she is still actually a high school student. Here, she talks about neglecting her chemistry and English studies and having to take a contract law exam.  With math and her retail classes, she has quite a load.

Just as Dart is getting freer with his affection, Dot is also sounding a little more comfortable with letting Dart know how fond she is of him. With slightly less than a month of letters between them, it seems they would both be lost and heart broken if the other one stopped writing. It’s a good thing for their future readers that they never really did!

Dart was delighted to receive a long letter from Dot. He told her it was a big hit in the ward, so I guess the patients must have passed the time reading their mail to the other guys. I find that to be such a nice thought – it almost turned strangers into extended family and provided entertainment in the days before television and video games. Have we lost something by retreating into all of our personal electronic devices?

His curiosity (and jealousy?) was sparked by Mom’s mention of receiving a V-mail. I think that stands for “victory” and refers to letters from a deployed military man. They came on special paper and were mailed with no postage. Dart is hoping Dot’s recent V-mail came from her brother who was in the Navy and not “some dark character looming on the horizon to make me insanely jealous and anxious over you.”

In response to Dot’s report of senior antics in the art room, Dart relates a very funny story about some hi-jinx in the lab at Case. Some of the guys got their hands on a bottle of acetone, a solvent that can turn rayon fabric into a sticky, gooey mess. They were horsing around, pouring some of the stuff into the back pockets of some unsuspecting classmates. One guy who felt the chilled sensation on his skin caused by the rapid evaporation of the acetone, looked down and discovered that his socks had dissolved.  Dart was carrying a handkerchief with red lettering on it made of rayon thread. The thread dissolved, creating a big smear on the handkerchief. His parents razzed him about the “lipstick smudge.” He follows up with some corny jokes “straight off the cob.”

He confesses that the way he feels now he knows he couldn’t even think about hitch-hiking to Greenwich over Christmas. But he assures her he would do anything to get to know her better.

Dot begins her letter in a surprising way- addressing it to Dr. Anthony, Dart’s physician. She explains that a very nice boy has just written her a very long letter, but because of his incapacity, she fears he may cause harm to himself by pulling such stunts.  She asks the doctor for his advice: “Should I beat the sailor’s brains out or should I thank him for being so very considerate?”

She has great sympathy for his recent ordeal. She even reports that she tried to write to him from the same position he must maintain while writing to her and urges him not to continue sending letters if it causes him pain.

A little more chit chat and then she tells him of seeing one of the most “stirring” movies ever – “So Proudly We Hail.” She is in awe of the caring and courageous nurses depicted in the film, which I suspect was one of those hyper-patriotic jobs that Hollywood churned out weekly during the war years.

She wraps up by giving him the address where she’ll be staying over the Thanksgiving holiday, saying she hopes he would write to her there so she’d have something to keep her good nature while a guest in someone’s home.

I’ll start with Dot’s letter today. It was brief because she was so tired from a day of chores. The big news is that she received a note from Dart’s mother, Helen Peterson, along with a snapshot of Dart. Naturally, Dot is thrilled with the photo.

In his letter, Dart answers two of Dot’s letters written a week earlier, whose delivery was delayed until that morning. His big news was that he had been glancing through one of Chicago’s newspapers this morning and saw a photograph of three “girls.” One was Eleanor Parker, a minor Hollywood starlet who had sat behind Dart in study hall at Shaw High School. The other two were from Dart’s neighborhood and had also been classmates of his. Eleanor was trying to help the unnamed girls break into the movie business. I smiled at Dart’s comment “Even if the girls were too fast for my tastes, those pictures gave me a warm glow of pride. Still, I’d rather look at your picture.” You know, I actually believe him!

A luxuriously long letter from Dart covers lots of new territory. He tells Dot about his cousin Jim Peterson who married a woman named Dot. Jim is stationed at an Army post in California and Dot is traveling out to see him.

Next, Dart reveals that his father makes legendary spaghetti every year on New Year’s Day for a huge family gathering. His modest dad only cooks one dish, but it receives such raves that he is secretly thrilled to roll it out annually. In this story, Dart talks about his dad going to “Little Italy” in Cleveland to bargain with the merchants for the best ingredients. I am a little horrified to see his use of a derogatory word for Italians. I knew Dad to be one of the most gracious, open-minded and accepting men I ever met – not a prejudiced word ever spoken. Did I simply know a mellower, wiser man than the boy who wrote this letter, or were terms like that more widely accepted in the 1940’s?

He chats about Dot’s negative comments about Norfolk, VA in an earlier letter and mentions that he, too, has heard nasty things about the city. They are reputed to post anti-sailor signage all over town, in spite of the fact that the Navy is the city’s bread and butter. He mentions a Coast Guard officer (bathtub sailor) who likes Norfolk, and talks about the man’s two daughters he knew in high school.

Dart then waxes eloquent about his great love – trains. He can hear their whistles and bells from the hospital and they make him feel lonely and homesick.

He describes visitors’ day on the ward and what the guys do to keep busy. He complements the corpsmen who treat their patients so well.  He mentions the homemade cookies the ambulatory patients get from home and the snacks delivered in the evenings. All of this talk of food must torment him a little because he’s still on a liquid diet.

He admonishes Dot not to neglect her studies to write such long letters, even while he tells her how much those long letters mean to him! And he thanks her for all her get-well wishes. “It’s a wonderful feeling to know you have a swell, sweet, pretty girl wishing you well and writing to you every day.”

It’s letters like this that saunter so companionably across all types of terrain that allow these kids to get to know each other so well. Memories, daily reports, jokes, gossip – all combine to create a complete picture of the writer and provide the raw material for mutual dreams of future meetings.

Another fun letter from Dot where she recounts a great prank she and her friend Andy played on the gullible Dorrie across the hall. I can almost hear the girlish giggles as the story unfolds and the masculine guffaws as Dart reads the letter to his fellow patients. Just what the doctor ordered! The prank went something like this: Dot and her roommate Andy were among the few girls who were in the house on this Saturday, and they had nothing to do but look for trouble. An opportunity presented itself when Dot opened a new tube of face cream she’d just bought downtown, only to discover it was some sort of sulfur cream. Naturally, it smelled to high heaven of rotten eggs. Not wanting to waste it by throwing it out, the two girls hatched a plot against Dorrie – a naive and gullible girl across the hall. When Dorrie left her room for a moment, Dot and Andy went in and hid the open tube of stinky cream. They smeared a bit on a piece of paper so that the odor would be more noticeable, and left the room. Dorrie came back and they watched her wrinkle her nose and sniff suspiciously all around. Then she threw open her window and came back to tell Dot and Andy about the horrible stench in her room. “We were in hysterics, but that never bothered her. She never suspects anyone. Later I looked over into her room and she was sitting at her desk with a coat and scarf on, her hair rippling in the wind that’s coming in from the window. She began searching her closet for dead mice. “Honestly, you could tell that girl that Roosevelt was on the phone and she’d believe you.” Eventually, after announcing the smell must be a dead wasp she found in her window, Dorrie discovered the open tube and smeared paper and threw them out the window into the winds. She never suspected Dot and her partner in crime!

Dart is obviously pleased to have received two letters and a card – all from Dot- in today’s mail. He takes a line or two to clarify that, contrary to the salutation on one of her recent letters, he is not Dr. Anthony, but he hopes he’ll still do.

I smiled when he addressed what he called the “issue of ‘name-calling’.” He is used to saying “Dot” now, so he tells he he will save “Dorothy” for special occasions. He also said this, about another form of address, “Also, after thinking it over, I don’t think I’ll use ‘dear’ very promiscuously. I never have used it at all before, and I’ll save it for special occasions with you. That way, it won’t wear out before I can see you again. Is that alright with you – ‘dear?'”

There was a lot more chat about her letter, and then he implores he rto tell him the secret about the upside down stamp. He’s been asking around and can’t find what it means.

Dot has been inundated by mail – three letters from Dart, one from her sister and another form her sister-in-law, a package and two letters from her mother! Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing to come home today and see all those friendly greetings waiting for you in your mail box? The only time I get so much personal mail is for my birthday.

She assures Dart that she has no concerns about any letters he gets from girls. “Who am I to tell you whom you may or may not get letters from? Lord knows you have little enough to look forward to out there besides mails, so the more, the merrier. I am kinda glad those six girls aren’t all eligible, tho’.” She goes on to say that she has been corresponding with two servicemen – a soldier she has never met whom her sister met on a train, and a Marine with whom she is on strictly friendly terms.

She can’t envision him in the whiskers he has described to her. She is staring at his picture on her night stand and cannot believe that boy could grow whiskers any better than a flea. “That’s a purdy smile you’re wearing in that picture.”

She makes another reference to the letter code he recently put on the envelope. She answers that L.S.M.F.T. is short for “Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco.” She vows to stump him with a really hard one and suggests she may even come up with something really hot!

There is a paragraph about a “train letter” and being mortified when the conductor came by to ask for her ticket. I have no idea what that means, but it’ll be fun to ask Mom if she remembers.

In response to Dart’s recent moron joke offerings, she relates a Hedy Lamar joke that is classic wartime humor.

She answers Dart’s questions about her pending work experience. Even though she will be done with her course work at Andrews in May, she must work in her field from then until January. If she has a successful job experience (what we might today call an “internship,”) then she’ll officially graduate in January. She’s trying to decide if she should stay in Cleveland to work or go home to be with family and friends in the New York/Greenwich area.

She playfully mocks Dart on his association with Eleanor Parker, the Hollywood actress, whom Dot claims to have never heard of.  She then begins to drop the names of all the rich and famous who live in Greenwich. (Some things never change.) She begins the list with the “A. P. Chamberlains,” and continues with a long list of celebrities. The list topper is, of course, her parents.

Here’s a nice one from Dart, overjoyed, as usual by the long letters from Dot. He again tries to caution her about neglecting her studies in favor of writing to him “I really do appreciate those letters and your consideration of me, but are you sure it’s worth it? Personally, I think it is worth it, for both of us, but don’t neglect the schoolwork. The old man has spoken and will now retire to his mossy cave.”

He was over the moon about switching to a soft diet today. Not only was he given a nice variety of food for lunch, but the change of diet indicates he’s very close to having the bustle removed from his back. He talks about how he hopes to progress through the long recovery from his surgery. If the incision heals and if it doesn’t break open and if they got all the cyst out and if … then he MIGHT be home for Christmas.

His tone turns poignant as he talks about how unlikely it is that he could escort Dot to her winter formal in December. He wants her to go without him and have a great time, but “Oh, how I want to be there!”

He takes a break for a little nap and continues where he left off. He tells her he approves, of course, of her correspondence list, and confesses that he has received several letters from a Catholic girl he dated a lot in high school because she was “a lot nicer than most of the Protestant girls” he knew then. But he’d always hoped he’d meet someone special, and now he has!

In a funny paragraph, Dart reveals he would be a colorful individual if he let his whiskers grow. In contrast to his dark hair, his mustache is reddish-yellow and his sideburns are pure red. He shaved it off after a week, at the request of his nurse.

He takes a guess at Dot’s most recent puzzle, C. S. O. B. W. as “Chamberlain sends own best wishes.” Then, referring to her suggestion that someday she might actually write something really hot, he quipped “If you send something really hot, I probably won’t recognize it!” That line sounds like something my own husband would say. He never could figure out when someone was coming on to him!

He writes a few jokes he’s picked up from the guys on the ward and then announces he’s throwing in the towel. After her lengthy list of Greenwich celebrities she included in a recent letter, he feels “like a piker.” Of course, the only ones he’s interested in are the Chamberlains.

The exhausted sailor finally wraps up this letter he began at 10:30 AM at 6:15 PM and bids Dot good night.

Dot sent a quick postcard from her friend’s house, followed by a nice long letter. She tells an embarrassing story of starting to read his latest letter to her friends at lunch when the headmaster came by and asked if he could read it, too. She blushed, the headmaster blushed and then walked away. Later, he said he’d really like to read it, but he didn’t push it, so she didn’t offer. “Better be careful, tho’,” she cautioned. “You never can tell who may read your letters!”

She apologized that she had no snapshots of herself, but film around her campus is as rare as “A’s on my report card.” That’s another big contrast with today’s world. Who doesn’t have instant access to “snapshots” of themselves? Film? What’s that?

She’s glad it’s settled about the name thing. She agrees that he can call her anything he likes. She then told that a classmate asked her recently if Dart’s name was actually “Dartmouth.” Dot replied sarcastically that his real name was “Yale.” (Her father’s alma mater.)

She talks about her dad and her brother Gordon with his active sense of humor. She talks about her love of spaghetti. and she mentions how impressed she is that Dart can tell a train simply from it’s whistle.  She writes “When I was younger, I had a yen to ride a train, but unless I change my route from New York to Cleveland, I may never want to ride one again. Why, I’ve made that trip so many times that the cows along the way moo at me when I go by.”

She expressed her fear that she won’t repeat her B in chemistry after her pre-Thanksgiving exam. And she expresses remorse and embarrassment for not writing to his mother yet to thank her for sending the pictures of Dart. She vows she will write to her today, because the snapshots mean so much to her.

In response to Dart’s query about what she wants for Christmas, she replies “An A in chemistry, $500, and you!”

In closing, she wishes him a happy Thanksgiving, in spite of the fact that he’s in a hospital. At least, she says, you can be thankful it’s an American hospital and that you’re getting good care.” That rosy perspective is a trait Dot carries with her even now – most of the time. Just last week, as she lay on her bedroom floor for 11 hours because she had fallen and could not get up, she was thinking “Dot, those people in the Phillipines typhoon would be grateful to be here on this floor where it’s safe and warm and dry. Quite your bitchin’.”

This long letter from Dart has several fine passages. He related that when folks ask whether his name is short for Dartmouth, he has also used the “No, “Yale” retort. “Slays ’em without bloodshed,” he quipped.

There’s a long descriptive section about the terrors of chemistry exams. “You take a peek at the exam…growing bolder, you read a question. Little green things start running up and down your spine. You break out in a tingling, cold sweat. Your pencil wants to write one thing and YOU want it another way, so you compromise on the wrong answer. It happens every time.”

He continues the old discussion about upside down stamps and the meaning of the shorthand symbol Dart attempts at the end of many letters (Remember, if you will, that they both mean “I love you,” but neither of our correspondents has actually admitted that.) “I hope with all my heart that we know what we’re talking about with our stamps and shorthand. It’s a wonderful feeling, too. I like it.”

A little more chat about other letters he’s received – and then he writes “Please keep those swell letters coming, Dot, dear. It means so much to me now.”

He ends with a final retort, “Whenever my brother goes out, Mom says ‘Be good and have fun.’ Burke always answers, ‘Make up your mind!’ I hope you don’t feel that way too!”

Dot writes to Dart from her friend Nancy’s house in Kent. By the way, Dot and Nancy are still in touch after all these years and Nancy still lives in Kent OH.

Dot reports that he was awakened very early yesterday by her friend waving two letters in her face. She noticed right away that Dart had used a different pen to write them with. The she reports that Nancy and a girl from Puerto Rico went to the movies to see “Heaven Can Wait,” which Dot loved, as she seems to love all movies.

She confesses that she had never heard of the Catholic girl Dart spoke of until he mentioned her, but she told him she doesn’t mind at all if he writes to her. She then confesses that, contrary to all her hints about knowing everything about him, she really doesn’t know anything except what he has told her.

She complements Dart on his good guess about her recent code – Chamberlain Sends Own Best Wishes, but clues him in on the real meaning of “Camay- soap of beautiful women.” What’s with all these homages she pays to Madison Avenue advertising slogans?

She talks about a teen club she and her friends visited the night before. It sounds like the kind of place today’s kids would enjoy if they were looking for tame entertainment- an old warehouse they had cleaned up, added ping-pong tables and a soda bar. I wonder where they held their rave parties back then?

True to the woman I would come to know as Mom, Dot goes into great enthusiastic detail about the Army-Navy football game she’s listening to on the radio. She is screaming for Navy and practically runs off the page when her team breaks a 0-0 tie. Little does she know at that point in her life that Dart didn’t know a touchdown from a crochet hook – nor would he ever. Dot was always the “jock” in the family.

She closes with a sweet comment. “We might go see ‘The Sky’s the Limit.’ You must admit I like the ‘higher’ type movie. ‘Heaven Can Wait’ and now this.  Maybe it’s just cuz I’m walking around with my head in the clouds.”

The weeks in a hospital bed are taking a toll on our hero. His letter, while containing some humorous bits, is a little cynical and bored. But he never misses a chance say how much he appreciates Dot’s letters.

He writes of finally having a radio for a few hours, which a nurse borrowed to use on the ward. There was a 15 minute jive program that had the “up” patients dancing for the entertainment of their fellow “inmates.” Dart, never much of a dancer himself, loved watching these guys do their “sick-bay shuffle.”

He fills in a couple of pages with corny one-liners, probably heard on the ward, and some silly conversation about Dot eating spaghetti until it ran out her ears.  He promised to practice his shorthand and send her his practice sheet, filled with the only symbol he knows (or cares to know, most likely.)

The final page might shed some light on his flippant and somewhat impersonal note. “Right now I’m passing through the most dangerous and painful stage of the operation. So if my letters are brief, please understand.”

Dot wrote two letters today – one from her friend’s house, and one back at school. She told about going with her friends to see a double feature of “Alaskan Highway” and “Melody Parade.”  After a midnight burger at the local diner, they returned to see the late, late show of “The Sky’s the Limit.” Obviously, movies weren’t ten bucks a pop in those days, so poor co-eds could see three in a single night!

She also told of listening to a new radio station in Kent where the announcer invited listeners to call in and request a song. She ran downstairs to the only phone in the house (!) and called the number. She said she was Dottie Chamberlain from Connecticut, asking him to play “String of Pearls.” Then she ran back upstairs to hear the announcer say “We just had a call come into the studio requesting “String of Pearls.” It came from Dottie Chamberlain from Kentucky.” Even though he’d flubbed her state, she was thrilled to hear her name on the radio.

She wrapped up the first letter by saying she was heading back to school and was sorry for such a nothing letter.

When she got back to school, there was a Great Lakes banner waiting for her. I guess she meant something signifying the Naval base where Dart is posted. Then she praised the Navy/Notre Dame game on Saturday night, saying “Oh, you’re just wonderful! You Navy men, I mean.”

She again apologized for a poor excuse for a letter, saying that although she looked forward to writing to him every day, she was afraid he’d get bored by her trivial notes, which was the last thing she wanted. On the blank back page of the paper, she wrote the large shorthand symbol, followed by a small period (dot).

Much of this letter from Dart was simply commenting on parts of Dot’s most recent to him. Still, it seems they are both beginning to add familiar little intimacies with greater frequency.

Referring to Dot’s reference to her 17-1/2 years as being “just a baby,” Dart told her to stop talking like that. He compares her maturity to some 19-year olds he’s been out with and she scores high. “Furthermore,” he continues, “you’re much nicer than most of them. I’ve known several gals who were much too fast, or too affected, for my simpler tastes. Better stop there before I get too deep.”

In another instance, he referred to Dot’s comment that he could write to any girls he wanted because she didn’t really have any “priority” on him. “I’m not so sure about that priority you say you don’t have on me. I wouldn’t mind it if you had one.”

He hints that he won’t be out of the hospital for a long time, but finds some relief in not having to march for hours in the Chicago December.  And he reports that the library crew came by to ask if there were any particular books he wanted. He answered that he’d really like to read something by James Thurber. When they returned, they brought two – one by Carolyn Wells and another by Ruth McKenny. Huh?

He throws in a plaintive “Gee, I want to see you again,” before signing off.

As Dart’s ardor is finding expression, Dot seems to be putting on the brakes a bit. “Please don’t take what I put on the outside of the envelope and elsewhere too seriously. I think and hope I mean it, but as I said before, I’m too young… I’ve seen so many girls get hurt by such things, that I’m gonna kinda take it easy. I will tell you this, tho’ – I’ve never felt quite the way toward any other boy as I do about you.”

She chastises him for losing weight and urges him to regain it and more. “Otherwise I’ll be singing ‘He would have been so nice to come home to.'”

She also tells him there’ll be no more apologies about his”griping.” She doesn’t think he overdoes it, and besides, she can think of no one who has a greater reason to gripe than he.

She tells him she’s nursing a cold and a cough and closes with  “All my love -(I think), Dot.