Dart seems to be in a strange mood as he returns from liberty and begins to write. This brief letter consists mostly of a complaint about the size and design of his foot locker, in which he must stow all of his reglation gear and his personal belongings. He can barely reach his locker, stored under the bottom bunk which is occupied by a drunken sailor “sleeping one off.”

The ship’s gagnway (which is really just a ladder flung over the side) has been busy today with all sorts of visitors. Most have them are looking on the wrong ship, but occasionally the visitor is for the Haggard. “But I have not the desire nor the purpose to discuss the rovings of mangy dogs. I mean to tell you how very much I love you. Just for your describing yourself mowing the lawn, I think now that I will try to surprise you! So there!”

Dot, too, is in a strange mood. She’s so lonely for Dart, and it’s been a week since she got any mail from him. She tells him about a vivid dream she had last night where Dart was being towed by his ship while he rode in a row boat. She deduced that meant he was on his way hope and would be here in about two weeks. She woke herself up screaming out to her mother, “Dart’s on his way home!” Her mother came to her room, shook her awake, and told her what a foolish notion it was that he should be coming home now. It took Ruth a long time to convince Dot that the dream wasn’t real.

“Golly, Dart, I was so sure! But why torture myself by thinking it? Only sometimes, I get to a point when I think I’ll go stark, raving mad if I don’t see you soon.” Actually, I’m enthralled by the fact that she has picked up on some kind of vibe that he’s heading back to the States!

In other news, she and El bought matching “sister dresses” to wear on the Miller’s sailboat this weekend. And Mrs. Miller got so many compliments on her hair after Dot set it for her, that everyone thought she’d had it done professionally. “Think I ought to go into business? Huh, got so many businesses now I can’t keep ’em straight.”

“Darling, I miss you so much I don’t know how I’ll stand it, but you know the old saying, ‘Where there’s a will, there’re relatives.'”

Dart begins his letter near the end of his telephone watch. He says he’s in his seat, “in front of, under, between, surrounded by a few thousand dollars worth of gadgets and gray paint.”

He will try to drop a letter to Gordon because he knows how much mail means when one is incapacitated. He’s tried numerous times to find Gordon’s ship when the Haggard was on the move among other ships, but he hasn’t been successful. Their meeting may have to wait until the war is over.

When he resumes this letter the next day, he writes, “As you probably guessed by now, you may be seeing me pretty soon. We’re still not quite sure of our timing or of the arrangements.” He explains that when a ship is in the USA, the crew is divided into three leave parties so that there is always sufficient crew on board. As it stands now, he’s in the second group to get leave, but he’s not sure when they’ll be home for the leaves to start. But the importnat news remains; HE’S COMING  HOME!

He approves of the agreement Dot suggested – that if either of them senses their feeling for the other are changing, they should speak up immediately. “I’d rather not be thinking of such things, but in view of Don’s actions, perhaps it’s best that we make such an agreement. …Damn this war anyway! It’s shooting all out hopes and plans to pieces. We must make the most of what we have. That doesn’t mean rushing into things. We must take them as they come.”

“Well, (he says with a wry grin), I guess I pulled a boner on that ‘not smart about one thing’ deal. I should write books on ‘how to embarrass oneself in one easy sentence.’ When I read your paragraph in reply to mine, somebody asked me where I got my face so sunburned.”

On June 23rd, Dot had asked him in a letter if he’d seen June’s full moon. “Oh brother! Did I see a moon! …That was the night I wrote about when we pulled into port during such a beautiful evening. When our mail came aboard and was sorted, we sat around on deck and read our letters by moonlight, at midnight! That night I received your answer to my question about becoming engaged and you ask did I see the moon!”

He concludes by writing that he’d hoped to write 6 pages tonight, but they are being asked to cut down on letters. Some ships’ crews are limited to two-page letters because the censoring task takes so long. He understands that censoring is a tedious and disagreeable, but letter writing is his only joy. The movies shown on board are childish affairs, he doesn’t drink, and he takes no pleasure in gambling. His pen is his only pleasure and if they greatly curtailed his use of it, he’d be lost. So, he heeds the request for shorter letters and sends his undying love.

Another brief note from Dot, written while she’s babysitting for her niece, Toni Gale. Harriet and George have gone out to dinner with their foster daughter, Helen and Helen’s boyfriend Bob, recently returned from the war. Dot writes that Helen is a mature 16-year old with a sweet disposition. Bob is a swell fellow, aged 23, with three years of optometry school in front of  him, “So, they still have plenty of time to map out what they plan to do with the rest of their lives.”

Dot hopes to get a nap in before they get home, so she wraps up the letter. She misses Dart and his letters very much. Won’t she be thrilled in a few days when she receives Dart’s letter with the news that he’s on his way home!

Dart begins this letter while on watch in a cramped space with an uncomfortable chair, but he says it’s a good watch to have nonetheless. He’s plucked from his collection of unanswered letters Dot’s offerings from June 26 and 27 as his inspiration for this letter.

“Yes, Dot. Several times I’ve predicted long lulls in my letter writing; but it’s more miraculous than you have any idea how we managed to get our letters through without any long interruptions. Those warnings were given in good faith, though. For a week you seemed unduly worried in your letters. To be truthful, that was the week your worries should have stopped. I was comparatively safe then. Maybe your worries just came to a head at that time.” (See how he hints at coming through a significant trial?)

“If the censors haven’t cut so much as a period from my recent letters, maybe it’s because I’ve decided to be a good little boy. And maybe you don’t know a hint when you see one.”

So now she knows he’s real because he whistled at a girl once. He hopes she doesn’t mind that he has a few other “real” characteristics which she’s bound to discover over time. “I’ve noticed a few in you, and I like ’em lots, Dot.”

He tells her that the biggest trouble with getting home before the end of the war is that he’ll only have to return to the fighting again. “Those partings are terribly difficult for both of us, Dot. But why look at the black side of it? The last time I saw you it was for only 52 hours. Leaves of 30 days plus travel time are granted to men from overseas. We’ll enjoy what we have.”

“I love you and I miss you too, Dot. I promise you a five-minute kiss the instant we meet. Then we’ll move aside so the rest of the people can get off the boat.” Funny guy, this sailor.

Both Dot and her father wrote to Dart today. First, Dot’s letter.

Yesterday, she and El went sailing on the Miller’s boat, “Ship Shape.” It was the first Dot had seen this beautiful craft that Mr. Miller built himself. It’s 28 feet long and can sleep four. At one point, Dot decided to swim along with the boat, but by the time she dove in and surfaced, both the boat and the long tow rope were far out of reach. The “crew” had to circle back and pick her up. She hung onto the tow rope for about 15 minutes, bobbing and ducking under the waves, to the delight of little Chris. Eventually her arms grew tired and she came back on board, but she had loads of fun!

This morning Mrs. Miller called to say that the strong winds last night broke “Ship Shape” from her moorings, and she washed ashore. Luckily, she washed up on a weedy beach and suffered no damage.

Today, she gave her room a good cleaning – the first time in ages. She’s be staying up until very early morning for several nights, so she needs to get to bed earlier tonight in preparation for the big sale at work tomorrow.

She’s still terribly worried about Dart and hopes to hear soon that he’s alright. I wonder if this is residual angst over El’s recent calamity – a realization that one never knows when trouble’s about to pay a visit.

Then comes Arthur Chamnerlain’s letter. I’ll quote it below, nearly verbatim because it’s so good.

“Your letter addressed to Mrs. Chamberlain and me can hardly be said to have come as a complete surprise, nor has Dot entirely hidden her feelings from us. And I am glad you wrote – not that it is a necessary formality, for I do not consider it as such – but it does help a parent’s ego, you know.

We have always been of the belief that when the children reach the age of maturity, their decisions should be their own, and influenced as little as possible by our feelings or desires. That belief is particularly strong when it comes to the matter of a choice of future life companions.

And so, Dart, to answer you specific request for permission, I can only say that it is not mine to give, but if you and Dot have come to a mutual understanding and agreement, God bless you both.

The greatest wish for your future happiness that I can give you is that it may be as great as my own over the last thirty years.

For my part, I regret that conditions have been such that we have had little chance to see you. Dot, however, does give us some excellent reports. She wouldn’t be biased, would she?

From all we can hear you fellows are doing the impossible to those yellow Japs. More power to you, and the best of luck in all ways.”

So here’s my question: Did everyone know how to write a good letter back in those days, or did I just happen to get lucky enough to be born into a family of fine writers?

Finally, there is a secret note slipped into the envelope from Ruth. She explains that she’s enclosing some photos of Dot as a baby – photos that might meet a “firey end” if Dot were to get her hands on them, so she’s sending them to Dart with a request that he keep them safe and keep her secret. Funny!

After serving midnight watch last night, Dart slept through reville, a call to breakfast, a call to report to stations and report to officer of the deck, and he nearly slept through lunch. “There’s a fraternity of daytime sleepers in my corner of the compartment and I sure joined ’em today!”

He holds two of Dot’s letters in his hand – from June 29 and 30 – which he hopes to answer on this current watch. The letter of the 29th brought that lovely new photo of Dot, the one with the wholesome smile. “The last liberty I had, I got my picture taken. In fact, I had three taken. The results rank with the war’s atrocities, and should not be sent through the mails. Wait a month or two and I’ll give them to you. I’d better be around to catch you if you faint (from fright).”

He’s sure he needs to surprise her and try to catch her mowing the lawn. He knows he wouldn’t mind seeing her that way, and he hopes she wouldn’t mind too much, either. He won’t surprise her for his actual leave, because that’s when they plan to announce their engagement. Still, he could surprise her on a liberty. (More hints, I see. How can he arrange for both a leave and a liberty? Where will he be that places him close enough to get to Greenwich on a liberty?)

Speaking of their engagement, he assures her that his folks are as “wholeheartedly in favor of it as you and I (in their own way, of course!)” They’ve told Dart he couldn’t have made a wiser or a better choice. He’s so thrilled with the way things are working out that he can scarcely find words to express it.

He recalls that July 1 a year ago when Dot raced up the stairs at Mason St. to kiss him. She caught him in the middle of the step and he was nervous that they’d lose their balance and tumble down the whole flight, but somehow he managed to keep his feet firm. He adjusted accordingly on the steps in Cleveland a few months later, holding the railing as they enjoyed those ardent kisses.

The last time his ship was in port, the Captain was awarded the Legion of Merit. The crew knew why, but it’s not something that can be written about just yet. The same reason accounts for one of Dart’s two battle stars that he’s added to his uniform since she last saw him. There’s a third one on its way. More hints of the action he’s seen without spilling any unauthorized beans.

Having his parents in Greenwich for the engagement dinner would be like whipped cream on a chocolate sundae. How he hopes they will agree to come!

Meanwhile, he can’t tell Dot his plans until the Navy tells of its plans for him.

He gets a little philosophical about their long separation, saying that as hard as it was, it may have been for the best. “We both know that when we met and fell in love and knew we’d be married eventually, we were too young to proceed immediately with our ultimate courtship. This separation has given us both a chance to mature to the point where we can meet our problems properly and open-mindedly. It’s kept us in love through times when we might have lost interest if we’d been together and unable to realize our ambitions. It’s given us a real chance to see that we need each other. And as long as we try our best to remain on God’s side, He’ll continue to help us.”

Dot is babysitting overnight with 10-year old Carol, who won’t go to bed until she does. It’s already far past Carol’s bedtime, so Dot is forced to keep this note short and then dash off to bed.

Finally the huge sale at Franklin Simon is over and the store can get back to normal. In Dot’s opinion, most of the things they sold were really not worth even the sale price, but some members of the public are foolish enough to be lured into thinking they are getting something for nothing.

Greenwich is due for a great deal of rain over the next several days. Here’s a new one on me: It rained on St. Swithens Day (What the heck is that?!) and an old legend proclaims that if it rains on that day, it will rain for 40 days straight.

Carol is young and needs her sleep, as does an old lady like Dot, so off they both go to bed.

Dart’s letter was written from the YMCA in San Diego!! He’s on home soil at last! The Haggard is stopping there just long enough to give every man on board one liberty. Then they’re off to Norfolk, Virginia where they anticipate a four-month stay in the Navy Yard.

He tried to call Dot last night, but after a two-hour wait for the call to go through he learned she had just left the house and would not return for many hours. Where’s a cell phone when you need one? He had to be content with talking to his parents for a mere five minutes. I imagine they were flooded with a sense of relief that their first-born was home, safe and sound.

After waiting two more hours, he tried Dot again, but by that time, there was a five-hour delay on calls to the east coast, so he sent a telegram instead. How he wishes he could have heard her voice!

“Maybe you guessed it by now, but the Haggard is a pretty sick old girl. I guess anybody’d be sick if he were hit by a couple of Kamikaze warriors. That’s what happened to us, and you’ll be surprised to know how long ago it was. We had our ‘accident’ on April 29! It’s taken us this long to patch up the hole, plug up the boilers, stick chewing gum and friction tape over the leaks, and get this far.”

He tells her that they had been so severely damaged that they’d received the order to stand by to ababdon ship, but then the old girl stopped sinking and the Captain thought maybe they could save her. “It’s been a long, hard grind. We were towed from our rendezvous with the zeros 40 miles off the northeastern tip of Okinawa … to Kerama Retto, a group of small islands which gave shelter to an emergency repair base. There, we sweated out almost daily air attacks until June 19 when we set out for the States. …During the seven weeks in Kerama Retto, we put a wooden patch over a huge hole in our bottom, cut away some of the bent and twisted metal, and pumped out the flooded compartments.”

He continues the harrowing tale. “When a couple of floating dry-docks were smuggled in, we were patched with steel and dried out inside. Finally able to proceed under our own power, but badly crippled, we were sent out to escort some LST’s to Saipan. We stayed two days at that most beautiful island and continued to Guam, where I visited Fred. From Guam we limped…to Pearl Harbor, escorting a pair of banged-up CVE’s.”

After two days in Pearl Harbor, they left with another badly damaged “tin can” and spent a week getting to San Diego. The other destroyer looks to be in much worse condition because all of their damage is topside, which is easier to fix. The Haggard’s damage is below the waterline in the engine and fire rooms and constitutes very heavy damage. They’ve made it this far, but must proceed through the Panama Canal and up the east coast of the US.

He reports that all hands will receive 30 days leave, plus traveling time. A group of men who live near the west coast have already shoved off to begin their leave. Another party will depart as soon as they pull into Norfolk. He’ll be in the third group that will leave as soon as the west coast group returns. He should be starting sometime around September 1 and they can make their plans from there.

He was thrilled to get the long awaited letters from Ruth and Arthur Chamberlain today, and is gratified by their responses.

There was a little subterfuge needed regarding his visit with Fred. It was actually a planned visit, but since Dot knew Fred was in Guam, he couldn’t reveal that the ship was on their way there. It had to look like an impromptu visit.

His 17 letters waiting for him here were much better than the liberty. All he did was walk around, eat, and try to reach his family and family-to-be. Now, it’s back on the ship for the long journey east.

It’s a brief and breathless letter from Dot today, written to Helen Peterson and Dart, Sr. It’s 1:00 AM and she can’t sleep with the excitement of their phone call and the news they gave her.

“Now you have proof that I’m an emotionally unstable individual. I humbly apologize for breaking into tears instead of peals of laughter, but I ask you, considering I was completely unprepared, I didn’t do too badly, do you think? No need in answering that question.”

She tells them there’ll be one very disappointed girl in her house if she awakes to find this was all a dream, but it somehow feels very real. “As I said at least 1,000 times on the phone, ‘Gee!'”

How those two parents must have grinned at her initial reaction during the phone call, and once again when they got her note.