Dart sounds restless. He’s had plenty of time for personal chores like laundry and letter-writing and now he’s looking for something else to fill his time. “This morning, from sheer want of something better to do, I went back to bed after breakfast, and slept until somebody found the tube I’d removed from the amplifyer of the record player.”

The town doesn’t offer much more than mediocre movies and an over-priced amusement park. On tomorrow’s 24-hour leave, Dart, Hal and the guys are thinking of going to Virginia Beach to see why it’s so exclusive.

Still no specifics on exactly when his leave will start. Somewhere between September 7 and 12, he hears. “Navy policy – Keep ’em dumb.”

He has begun sketches on a new house, incorporating some of the ideas from his first drawings, and improving some of the flaws. He’ll bring both sets of drawings with him on leave so he and Dot can discuss them at length.

He proclaims it a good sign that all he can think or talk about is the girl he loves. He’s eager to “sprout horns and a barbed tail and stop threatening to put an ice cube down her back.” He cryptically referred to a nickname she confided to him last week and asks if she’d mind if he used it once in a while. Hmmmm. I wonder if Mom will recall just what that nickname was.

In spite of a scarcity of incoming mail, he writes “The memory of our last two days together keeps me going.”

Dot’s entry today is a postcard from the lake. The picture side shows a melon-colored moon shining above a dark, choppy lake. On the back she writes “The card doesn’t do the lake justice. It’s really much prettier than this at night with the moon reflected in the water. All the scene needs now is you. See you a week from tomorrow? Will try to write a letter tonight. All my love, (.)

It’s another long letter from Dart and a shorter one from Dot as they pass the time before seeing each other again.

Dart begins with the big news that the Haggard’s fate has been decided. She will be decommissioned with all the other unseaworthy ships of the US fleet. “The decommissioning of a ship often takes several months, as there is much work to be done to preserve the ship from the ravages of weather and saltwater.”

He continues to say that after the ship has been squared away, the crew will be broken up and transferred to further duty. Dart says he may be assigned to another ship for more months of sea duty, but the Navy is rapidly reducing its force, so his future remains unclear. He believes (and strongly hopes) that he’ll be out of the Navy within the 18 months they have set for reduction to skeletal strength. He remains positive in saying that since they’ve known each other for more than two years, and that seems like such a short time, 18 months shouldn’t be too bad.

There’s a complicated bit about the points he’s accumulated – points apparently the determining factor of when he’ll be released from duty. His points are very low, but there’s talk of adding extra ones for months at sea, plus some more for each battle star earned. That would help some, but not enough. He wishes they would add points for all the time he’s been under Navy control, which would include his time at Case and the months spent in a naval hospital, but for now, only active duty time is counted.

He writes a loving tribute to his ship.”The news that our ship will be decommissioned is met with the proverbial ‘mixed feelings’. …We know now that we will lose her, but where, when and how long it will take, we don’t know. …For the news we are grateful, for it removes some of the worry from our minds. However, we feel as if we are losing a friend. Regardless of the uncomplimentary epithets we hurl at her, the unflattering remarks we make as we chip rust from her lean sides, the unkind wishes we express for her desctruction in a fiery place, we feel attached to the gallant little ship which we fought on and with, and which we nursed and prodded and goaded for twelve thousand long miles home.”

He discusses specific plans for his leave, which is now definitely scheduled to begin on September 11. He and Hal are still unsure whether they’ll drive or take the train, but in either case, they hope to be in Greenwich by that evening. His parents, having not seen their eldest son for 10 months, want him home in Cleveland as soon as possible. If he stays in Connecticut until the evening of the 17th, is that enough time for all they hope to do while he’s there? Then he and Dot could take the night train to Ohio, arriving on the 18th.

He’s still unsure about the ring. Maybe he could buy it in Greenwich. He’s determined to give it to her to wear at the engagement party.

Last night, Hal, “Sack”, Oliver and Dart had a great time on liberty. Oliver had just returned to Norfolk to collect his transfer papers. He’s been assigned to shore duty in New York City where his wife is hospitalized after a 79-story fall in an Empire State Building elevator!

During their liberty, they checked Ollie’s bag at the railroad station and grabbed an early dinner. Then they saw a worthless movie called “Don Juan Quilligan.” The best part of the movie night was watching again the news reel of the Japanese surrender. All of the Japanese “brass” were quite small in stature, while the Americans on the podium were selected for their height and massive build. Our sailors really got a kick out of that visual!

After the film, the guys bowled two games, and Dart was shocked to score the highest on both games! (Maybe he’s inspired by Dot’s success as a bowler.) He says it was great to spend time with his good buddies, especially so for Ollie. That was the first fun he’d had since he left the ship in Panama to rush to his wife’s bedside. How I wish I knew more about what happened to her!

He’s delighted that he and Dot will be together again so soon. “I hope I don’t talk as much as I did about the awful things that have happened.” I’m sure Dot would agree that he has every right to talk it all out.

Dot writes that the mail call today rendered three letters from Dart, totaling 23 pages! She wishes she could write that many pages in response, but says “I just ain’t built that way!

She’s quite eager to see him in civvies. The only time she’s seen him dressed in regular clothes was when she dreamed of him that way. “If you look the way you did in the dream –Brother!!”

How grateful she is that Hal’s being so generous with the use of his car for liberties. Her only wish is that she were down there with them, cruising around and having fun.

She hopes he doesn’t get shipped overseas again. Her brother writes that he’ll be shipping out to parts unknown between September 15 and 20. He vows, however, that come hell or high water, he’ll be out of the Navy for good in six months.

Now she understands why Dart likes to park the car to talk. She was wondering about that strange behavior. Now she knows not to talk to him when he’s behind the wheel. “I won’t say anything important, like ‘I love you.’ What’s the point, if it doesn’t register?”

She asks a very good question about house design. “What would be the point of having a garage separate from the house? Off hand, I would think it would make the whole appearance less attractive and less convenient in bad weather. But you’re the boss, so you go ahead and plan what you want, saving the explanations for later.” (He’s the boss? Hmmmm. When did that become the case?)

She likes the improvements he’s made in the house plans, but wonders if Mrs. Miller scared him when she said she thought his previously designed house was too little. Does he think they’ll be able to fill four bedrooms?

Now, how about he just forget about that ice cube? After all, they don’t want to hold grudges, do they? Still, if he feels he must put one down her back, she gives him permission…if he can catch her. If it’s any consolation, her whole family is on his side.

Before closing, she must tell him something shocking. Her little brother Doug got his head shaved yesterday. The family is livid! He did it as a joke, but he looks like a Nazi and no one is laughing. He must take his meals alone until his hair grows back, and he’s already been told he cannot attend the engagement party. Apparently, Arthur told him one too many times to get a haircut, and he really did! She hopes Dart won’t have to look at him much when he’s at the Chamberlain home. “Yes, we’re a crazy bunch, but I think Douglas is the nuttiest. I hope you don’t discover you’re crazy for loving me, ‘cuz I’ll always love you, my Darling.”

A few sentences is all Dart has time for. He’s driving Hal’s car to the ship in a few minutes to visit with Hal during his watch. On Moday, they have regular duty hours, during which they’ll be moving back aboard the Haggard. Tuesday, the long-awaited leave begins!

Dart won’t write anything else to Dot before he sees her in NYC.

Here’s a sweet letter from Dot. She had to go back to work for a day at Franklin-Simon so that Mr. Goldstein could observe the Jewish holiday. She would much rather have stayed at home, seeing to all the tasks she must accomplish there before Dart’s arrival. As it is, she spent the late evening ironing for 2-1/2 hours before sitting down to write to him.

She writes, “You probably won’t get this letter till your leave is over, so let me say this:  It was wonderful, Dart. We have been lucky to be able to work things out the way that we did. Or should we blame it on fate? I think we should. I love you with all my heart. All my efforts in college I will make for you so that I may someday be the person you think I already am.”

She says it’s time for her to get some beauty sleep because she has to look beautiful when she sees the love of her life in a few days.

Now, dear Readers, you may have already guessed that letters between these two will drop off to nothing while they’re together for Dart’s leave. They will resume on Septemeber 26, but I’ll post occasionally during the lapse. I’ve found some letters between Dart and his future in-laws that are well worth sharing, and there are some old photos which will be fun to see. I’ll also add a description of their engagement party.

Until then, just imagine the joy and exuberance of these young lovers as they give or receive a ring, announce their engagement to the world, travel back to Cleveland together, and begin to know each other better, face-to-face, in addition to their letters.

You can almost hear the whistful whine in Dart’s voice as he writes, “Gee, we miss you.” He’s referring, of course, to his parents and himself. Dot is at Kent State University, about an hour outside of Cleveland, but she’s left a big hole in the Peterson household after staying there for several days during Dart’s leave.

Dart, still at his folks’ place in Cleveland describes his evening with the entire Peterson clan. That would include Dart’s uncle Guy, his wife and all their “kids”, their spouses and their children. His “second best girl” Susie Brown,  is six years old. She loves to be tickled.

With a few well-chosen words, Dart describes each person there. It’s obvious he’s partial to the under 10 crowd. He describes his young cousins with tenderness and humor. “Sara Schriffler was a well-behaved and quick-witted youngster who runs around with her big bunny slippers in her hand so she won’t get their fur dirty. She has big brown eyes and chestnut-colored hair.” Or, “Young Bill Brown was a quiet gentleman all evening. He gave us each a separate big elfin, toothless grin as his huge daddy carried him in his arms.”

He seems less enamored with the cousins of his own generation. He tells about Cousin Guy, the doctor, dressed in comfortable tweeds and almost completely unchanged by the war. He sat most of it out on the sidelines of an Army Air Command sick bay. Then there was  Lt. Robert Schriffler looking far older than when he left. “He has a battle star or two, but he had lovely shore duty for a long time. But the shore duty was on Leyte and Samar, so it wasn’t all as lovely as it sounds at first.”

Then Dart reveals his inner geek with his gushing, glowing report of the “newest arrival” of the Peterson’s house on the lake: “a bee-you-tee-ful General Electric oil furnace. It’s fully automatic and will be used with a circulating hot-water heating system when pipe and radiators are available. (After the factories are retooled for peace-time manufacturing, I wonder?) There’s a smaller size, which I think I like better though, for this costs $600 and heats 10,000 cubic feet of house space. Our house and budget, I’m afraid, will be a bit smaller than that, but I surly love that tiny furnace.”

He adds, “All the family, including the new furnace, send you their best regards, and they all wish you could have been there.”

Then he warns Dot that she’ll have to be there a week from this Saturday. It’s his last weekend home and his folks are hosting one of their big spaghetti parties, with only two family members “in absentia.”

His mother thanks her for the nice knife and his father asked how she thought of such a great gift. His mother responded that it’s because Dot is such a sharp kid. Groan. I guess I see where Dart gets some of his “humor.”

Turning his attentions now to that “sharp kid,” he asks how she’s liking her new abode. Will she become accustomed to the musty-smelling old palace? Is the Pennsylvania roommate with the backwoods twang as much of a goon as Dart’s first impressions of her made her seem? Is the Missouri girl as boy struck as she appeared to be, or are all those photos of the same boy? Has either of them been away at school before, or does Dot hold that edge? He wonders if either of them is nosy enough to get this far into his letter. If so, they deserve to be insulted by the words he’s written.

“Tell me lots about your setup. Visiting hours; how, what, where and when they feed the monkeys; how much or how often you can write, call, or visit us; house rules, what you found out about your program, etc. All right, so I’m nosy, but I’m interested, too.”

He tells her the trip between Kent and Cleveland isn’t a hard one, so he’s happy to make it. Before signing off, he says he’s worried about her foot and her thumb so she should take care of herself. Will we hear more about that later? Time will tell.

It’s a homesick (or might I say “Dartsick”) girl who writes today. She calls herself his bawling brat and says that although she has ceased her crying, she nearly starts up again when she thinks of what she was doing 24 hours ago, or when she compares this place to Andrews. “It doesn’t look nearly as bad to me now as it did when I first saw it, but it’s still no palace. Our room is, by far, the biggest and brightest, so we didn’t do too badly. Ah, but the bathroom! It is literally 4-1/2 ‘ x 6′, with a bath tub that is 2-1/2′ long and 1-1/4’ wide. I can see I’ll be taking my baths on the installment plan. There are 12 girls in this house and they’re all swell. The nicest one is from N. Salem, Ohio and is a Phys Ed major, too. She’s awfully cute and loads of fun.”

One of her roommates – Eleanor, is a music major and seems nice. The other one – the girl named Phil form Missouri, is spending the night elsewhere, so Dot can’t judge how she is yet.

Tomorrow she’ll take a series of tests and then register for her classes. Friday brings more tests and a welcome party. The housemother, whose name is Mrs. Olin, has told Dot that all she needs in order to leave on weekends is written permission from her mother. This strikes me as rather absurd. Here’s a 19-year old college co-ed, engaged to be married, and living out of state from her parents and she needs a note from her mother to leave the house! Good grief! Anyway, Dot will try to arrange her next weekend in Cleveland as soon as possible.

She wishes she could find a way to express her love, but she thinks they understand each other on that score. She’s ashamed of herself for acting like such a child when he brought her to Kent and her new off-campus housing, but she’s grateful that he was so patient and understanding. She thanks him for driving her all the way out to this rat hole, which she immediately says isn’t that bad. “After all, Abe Lincoln didn’t exactly live in a palace, and look at the education he got!”

She sends her heart-felt gratitude to his parents for their role in giving her the happiest week of her life. Declaring that she can’t keep the wicked hours of her youth now that she’s a college student, she signs off, using the signature “Butch.” I’ll have to ask Mom the origin of that one.