Dart was happy to receive two fine letters from Dot today. He was also happy to report that he is writing to her once again from a sitting position, and his back doesn’t hurt like it did yesterday.

He apologizes for dashing her spirits about his “pending” leave. He was foolish enough to believe the words of the medical staff when they predicted how soon he’d be going home. In turn, he inadvertently misled Dot.

Since she messed up the film he’d sent her, he asks her to “introduce” her family to him by describing what they look like. He also repeats his request for a billfold-sized picture of her pretty self.

She has apparently written to him of her plans to visit Michigan over her Easter break, and he spends a paragraph guessing which route she’ll take to get there. He’s sure she’ll have lots of fun, and equally sure he won’t get a letter from her during her visit.

There is a brief musing over which church he’ll attend when he is back in Cleveland. His childhood church was the Methodist one, but when he left home, he began attending the Congregational Church and liked it quite well. He has friends at both, so he’ll just have to see which one “wins.”

He discusses his favorite Sunday afternoon classical radio programs – none of which are played in a Navy hospital. He also describes the bitter, blustery weather raging outside his ward. He reminds her that he is still sporting his curly red whiskers. His aunts are trying to convince him to wear the “gruesome appendage” home. In fact, one aunt sent him a little kit that included wax, oil, pomade and perfume that smells of whiskey after she read of some famous men who groom their facial hair with such things!

There’s nothing much more to say, except that every time he hears some good news, he thinks how happy it will make Dot to hear it. He confesses how wonderful it is that someone like her exists and likes him so much.

Dot’s theme is “No Letter Today,” even though she received one that wasn’t from him. His are the ones she wakes up looking forward to and isn’t satisfied until she returns to her house at the end of the day and finds one waiting for her.

She heard from her Marine pen pal. They seem to have an ongoing argument about the Navy VS the Marines, and Dot believes the Navy always wins.

She finds it difficult to write when there is no new letter to answer. Plus, she’s listening to Bob Hope in the background and cannot concentrate on her writing. She closes with the announcement that Ronald Coleman was wonderful in last night’s production of “Everything for the Boys.” (Radio show?)

Dart’s letter begins innocuosly enough, with him thanking Dot for her letter and the gum. More small talk follows about his tendency to be as easily embarrassed as Dot’s housemate Evelyn, and his color improving since he’s been up out of bed.

But then comes the bad news. First, his thigh has swollen up again, and he’s been ordered back to bed, with foot elevated and still. Then, the doctor told him it would be many more weeks of convelescence before he could leave the hospital. When Dart asked about his sick leave, the doctor tersely informed him that he did not approve of sick leaves, nor would he sign Dart’s application for one! “Naturally, I feel like committing mayhem around here. Today marks exactly 105 days, 15 weeks, in hospitals.”

His hopes of seeing Dot on March 24th have been crushed. In fact, he may not be discharged until after she has returned to Greenwich for the summer. If that is the timing of his leave, he may not see her again until the war is over! I can scarcely bear to think about the pain and disappointment this news must have caused these two young people.

He wonders if his news will distress Dot to the point of not wanting to write to him anymore. He even suggests that she find another date for her April prom, adding the wistful request that if, by some miracle, he could get to Cleveland by then, she drop the other fellow and go to the prom with him. One can only guess what it must have cost Dart to write that paragraph, but I think he felt honor-bound to give Dot an out.

Declaring that he was too blue to write a decent letter, he decides to switch over to answering hers. The most endearing part was when he mentioned Dot’s little niece, Toni Gale and Dot’s suggestion that he might want to wait fot her to grow up. “Toni Gale is really a cute little gitl. However, I don’t think I’ll wait for her to grow up. It will be a long enough time for you to become 21 and fancy free. And, to put it mildly, you’re a pretty good choice, as far as I can see now.”

In answer to Dot’s question, he reports that his father never complained about damage to the car after their date when Dart allowed Dot to shift gears on the old Ford. “Those horrible noises it made that night were only its purring gratitude for a good ‘roughing-up’.”

Dart reveals that he’s never been a fan of the Bumsteads radio program because of the noise and chaos it embodies. He loves the “Blondie” comic strip, however.

He congratulated Dot on her good score for the punctuation test and bragged that he made only one punctuation error in his 6500 word term paper!

Claiming that he can’t stay blue for very long, especially after telling his troubles to someone, he urges Dot not to take his news too badly, and to keep her chin up.

Dot thanks Dart for the two letters she received today and commented on the mix-up he wrote about where he received a letter from a friend of his. Unfortunately, the friend had put a letter to his folks in Dart’s envelope and, presumably Dart’s letter into his folks’ envelope. Dot feigned shock that Dart and his pals might use language a bit too salty for parents to read. “But then, I guess you’d be rather shocked if you heard some of us slip up once in awhile. Especially the flaxen-haired, blue-eyed innocent (looking) girls around here.”

She had not realized until Dart’s report that Negro and white sailors were housed in the same wards in Navy hospitals. She comments that although the Negro Dart described didn’t sound too pleasant, “There are ever so many repulsive whites, too, so we have little room to talk.”

She explained that she will receive a report card this week, and seems to dread it. She described the citizenship grades she gets which score her on a myriad of points, both in the cottage and in classes.

Announcing she is in a foul mood, she decides to close before depressing him.

Not much news in Dart’s brief letter today. He was a little surprised to learn Dot had missed hearing from him one day earlier in the week because he has written every day. His mother also reports an irregularity in the postal delivery. He tells Dot that if he misses writing to her one day, he’ll be sure to tell her the next, so they’ll know if any letters have been lost in the mail.

He finally confesses that after all the talk of Dot’s crush on actor Ronald Coleman, Dart has no idea who he is. With some gentle ribbing, however, he says that his mother mentioned being fond of Ronald when she was young. He then lists his crushes as Katharine Hepburn, Roz Russell and several others. He acknowleges that they are “out of reach,” but hopes Dot is not entirely so.

He mentions that it’s been a very long time since he’s heard from the Catholic girl who was writing to him. Her last letter told him to never again start a letter to her with “Dearest Dot.” Although he has written to explain things, no word from Jeanne. He doesn’t appear to be too upset by the development.

It seems that brief letters are the style today. Dot begins with a couple of paragraphs that she composed as a typing exercise. She still needs lots of practice.

Next, she hand wrote an addendum, still with not much to say. To pad the envelope a bit, she included a drawing she did of an Andrews girl at 6:30 AM.

She signed the letter “More love, and it’ll keep coming ’til you say ‘whoa!'”

There are several inconsequential tidbits in Dart’s letter, including his father’s reports about all the blizzards Cleveland has been seeing.

Dart told a cute story about the nurse, Miss Meany, who always brings him his mail. She hands him his letters from everyone except Dot. Then she asks, “Did you write to her last night?” If he did, she gives him Dot’s letter. If he says he didn’t, she says “She’s too good for you, Peterson,” and gives him the letter anyway.

He also reports that his beard is gone. There was a big inspection of the hospital that included a large band of “brass.” (As opposed to a brass band.) One of the officers stopped at Dart’s bedside to ask if he had grown the beard “on purpose.” (Said with a grin and a wink.) Dart’s doctor was angry and mortified. After the tour, the doctor returned and ordered Dart to get rid of it, so he had no choice. Dart tells the story better, so it’s best to read it in his own words.

He signed “All my love to the sweetest girl ever,” and then added a P.S. that his leg swelling went down again and he was ordered to sit at the edge of his bed. He then signed “More of all my love.”

I absolutely LOVE this letter from Dot! It’s her response to Dart’s recent news about his poor health, vanishing sick leave, and his advice that she invite someone else to her prom. There isn’t a trace of “Woe is me.” No hint of “Why this? Why now? Why me?”

She begins by telling him how lucky he is, if he must be sick, that he is safe and sound in the USA. No “Jap sniper” shooting at him. He has pretty nurses, skilled doctors and free medical care to save his family a significant expense.

She adds “Please don’t think for one minute that I favor the idea of not seeing you again ’til God knows when, for I promise you there is no one I would rather see. But no matter how you look at it, we’re always a little better off than some poor soul and have a great deal to be thankful for. Something tells me we should keep our faith in the Navy, ‘cuz they’ve none an awful lot of wonderful things, too.”

Who wouldn’t love a girl with that kind of positive spirit? And what fills my heart most is that I know she would say the same thing now. Except for rare periods in her life, my mother has always been not a “glass half-full” gal, but a “cup runneth over” type who carries gratitude with her into almost every situation. Keep looking on the bright side, Mom, as you did when you were just a girl.

She scolds Dart for suggesting she find another date because there is no one else worth dating. She also takes mild offense to the suggestion that she may not want to write to him any more because he’s been so sick for so long. “In my mind, that’s all the more reason why and should (and will) write. ..It’ll take a lot more than an few weeks in the hospital to get rid of me, so if you’re planning to, be prepared for a long, hard fight.”

She turns to the task of responding to his more recent letters. She feigns being intimidated by writing to the genius who has such perfect punctuation. She explains that she prefers to print because she thinks her printing looks better than her writing. “The only reason I write once in awhile is so I’ll know how to endorse my checks every week from M-G-M.”

She has enclosed some snapshots of her parents to introduce Arthur and Ruth Chamberlain to Dart, and she promises to send photos of the rest of her family soon.

She encourages him to keep trying his best to get well and to keep his chin up.

This letter from Dart has an ominous statement in the first paragraph. He says he is behind in his correspondence because he’s been feeling lousy all day. I get nervous when that happens because I wonder what ailment will befall him next.

His bed has been moved a dozen feet or so and now he is among “college types” like pilots, cadets, etc. They are having a lively discussion tonight on the future state of astronomy, so he cuts his letter short and sends Dot his love.

Dot is racing to get her letter finished before dinner so her friend can mail on her trip to the post office. She’s planning to try an experiment by sending her Thursday letter Special Delivery on Friday morning so that Dart will receive it on Saturday. She really wants him to get mail every day.

She sent Dart a photo of his favorite “pin-up” girl, Katharine Hepburn. She tells him he can swoon over the picture 24 hours every day, as long as he gives Dot at least one minute of his thoughts.

Then she tells him at at the end of the Fred Waring show every night at 10:15, she thinks about Dart, wondering if he’s sleeping, how his day went, if he thinks about her. She asks that he join her in her moment of meditation to see if there’s anything to this mental telepathy thing.

Well, she didn’t finish the letter in time to get it mailed, but she sends her love, nonetheless.

Dart seems shocked that a day went by without him writing to Dot. He had no excuse except that he was simply tired of writing. I have to keep reminding myself that he corresponds with several people and is fairly loyal about answering each letter soon after he receives it. How hard it must be to either write something new to each person, or write the same thing several times over.

He is glad he and Dot have the same taste in radio programs, although he also thinks they have more than that, plus their mutual attraction and admiration. Isn’t it fun how universal it is for people who are just getting to like each other find comfort in the things they have in common? Later, it seems they are sometimes equally happy to discover each other’s differences.

He appreciates the photo of Kay Hepburn, especially since he left Dot’s photo with his other belongings when he was rushed to the hospital all those weeks ago. He’d welcome a replacement photo anytime, but now he has the lovely actress to “keep him company.”

His letter-writing has been interrupted by a bed-bath, a back rub and a discussion among the patients of Sherlock Holmes drug addiction. Now the mail has arrived, bringing yet another letter from Dot.

He is sorry he isn’t able to join Dot in her “meditation” after the Fred Waring radio show. The ward he’s on has lights out at 9:00 PM, so he is fast asleep by 10:15. He’d like her to choose another time for them to mentally commune, although he admits to thinking about her much more often than a couple of minutes each day.

He tells her not to mourn the loss of his chin whiskers because they were most unattractive. He then illustrates with a drawing in the margin to prove his point.

He wishes her a good time in Cleveland this weekend and thanks her for the special message she wrote inside the envelope. He doesn’t recall exactly what he said to induce her response, but he meant it, and he vows he does not say it to anyone else.

Dot starts her first letter of the day in her window display class and fills the page with riveting facts about mannequins and painting techniques. She continues later that day with a second letter.

She has glowing comments about the snapshots Dart sent her of his parents and promises to return them to him with special care. She quips, “You have your mother’s eyes, the same shape face as your Dad. For all I know you have your grandfather’s teeth, and you’d better give them back.”

She will try to quit griping about the mail service. Her roommate’s fella’ is a flyer over England and she hasn’t heard from him in days. The roommate is getting quite frustrated (and maybe a little scared?) and has just flown into one heck of a tantrum. She’s busting up records, throwing things and cursing like a …sailor? Dot expects to be strangled in her sleep when the roommate returns.

Dot reports that her mother, who is her husband’s “secretary” in his small business, just wrote to say that Dot should be prepared in case both her parent go to jail. Their crime? Neither can figure out their income taxes or how much they owe! I doubt it was really all that bad. Dot’s mother was a graduate of Wellesley and her dad attended Yale. I’m sure between the two of them they had the brain power to get the job done.

Dot finishes up the letter so that she can write to her brother. She signs off with “Good nite-sleep tight. Don’t let the nurses bite!”

Here’s a short, but ever so sweet letter from Dart, written on the last sheet of fine stationery Dot sent him.

He’s happy she liked his recent poetry. He says it seemed to flow freely onto the paper – real inspiration.

He says he has been reading a lot of magazines lately and often runs across a story that reminds him of Dot and himself; how they met and fell in love, how he had to leave her so quickly, the disappointments and challenges they’ve faced. He writes “So much of our friendship has borne a trace of resemblance to those happy-sad-happy stories that I don’t see how our story can have anything but the happiest of endings. At any rate, I hope so sincerely.”

He dreams of the time when they can be together again.

Continuing the theme of short letters, Dot writes a two-pager on Andrews school letterhead, left over from a typing class she took. I love the school’s motto: A practical school to render Girls self-supporting.

Today, Dot’s teacher Mrs. Wall asked her about that “nice young gentleman” she brought to the October dance. Dot filled her in on all the particulars of Dart’s experience since he was last in Willoughby. Mrs. Wall then inquired about his mother’s maiden name, because she recalled that Dart’s mom had at one time worked at Andrews. When Dot told her, Mrs. Wall raved about Helen Burke Peterson being the finest woman on Earth. She says she wouldn’t have a job if not for Helen and that her son would have to go a long way to live up to the standards set by his parents. Dot warned him that he best take note because “I’ve got my eye on you.”

In other news, Dot got her pictures developed and was sending them to Dart, and she had to study for a Consumer Education exam before leaving for a weekend in Cleveland.

Here’s a chatty, somewhat inconsequential letter from Dart. He’s spent most of his day in good conversation with his fellow patients, so he’s left with little time to write.

He has determined the cause of the sporadic delivery schedule of his mail to the outside. Outgoing letters are collected from the ward at 9:00 PM. The corpsman going off duty then is supposed to sterilize the letters (!) and they are sent to the post office the following morning. Several glitches can cause delays: The corpsman forgets to gather the mail, the sterilizer is being used for medical purposes, the mail bundle is too large to fit into the sterilizer, the day corpsman forgets to retrieve it from the sterilizer.

Dart can sympathize with Dot’s roommate who had a tantrum after not hearing from her guy for several days. Dart admits to throwing rather mild, quiet fits when his mail call has disappointed him. All this just underscores how incredibly important letters from home are to these guys!

Dart is listening to the “Hit Parade” on the radio as he finishes his letter. He says it sounds as though Sinatra has a cold tonight. That was a revelation to me because it indicates that the “Hit Parade” is a live radio program! When was the last time we heard anyone singing the hits live on the radio?

He explains that he filed income tax, but since his Navy pay was a paltry $300 in 1943, he doesn’t owe any taxes. Wow!

Dot’s letter was a quick one, dashed off after midnight from her friend Janice’s house in Cleveland. She’s having a good and busy time of it on her weekend off campus. She enclosed a couple of snapshots she had taken in a photo booth at the dime store. (Sadly, they have disappeared over the intervening years.) I’m sure Dart was delighted to get them, even though she claims they make her look like an inmate at some institution other than Andrews.