Here’s a wonderful, newsy letter from Dart, full of many details that Dot will hungrily devour, but scant information on where he is or where he’s going.

He’s hoping to get the hang of writing under the watchful eye of the censors. “We can say less while we’re on the move than from a more permanent assignment, which is why my last letter was so brief and newsless.”

Before getting into port on their first stop, they were given the uncommon treat of being allowed to mail two letters from the ship, thanks to an impromptu panel of officer censors. There’s no news when they’ll have another chance to mail anything home, but Dart will keep writing whenever he can.

He describes the transport he’s on as brand new – in fact, she’s on her maiden voyage. She’s sleek and clean and still smells of fresh paint. They have fresh water for showers and laundry – an unheard of luxury. Dart says he can see that this ship was designed for easy conversion to a private passenger vessel after the war.

The first part of this journey was made alone, but now they are in the company of ____________________. (The censors have excised two lines of detail here, so we’ll never know who travels with them.) He apologizes that he was unable to get off the ship at their first stop to buy Dot the gift he’d promised. Reading between the lines, I think we can assume that the port was Pearl Harbor and the gift was the grass skirt.

Dart confesses that he was not a very good sailor during the first day and a half at sea, laid flat by sea sickness. After a day of calm waters, a full stomach and a lemon to suck on, he has recovered completely and can hold his own. Mostly the ship rocks from side to side, occasionally hard enough to send unsecured items scuttling across the deck. Sometimes, however, they have a deep fore-to-aft roll that reminds him of Euclid Beach (roller coaster?).

He confirms that he’ll not be at Dot’s graduation from Andrews in February, but hopes his folks will be there in his stead. He also hopes his parents and Ruth Chamberlain will have a chance to meet while she’s in Ohio for the occasion. He wants Dot to remind him to give her a big kiss of congratulations when they see each other next – one of many kisses they’ll have to catch up on.

Dart’s description of the great Pacific ocean reveals his new found love of the sea. “Ever since I first saw the beautiful blue of the Pacific, I’ve been trying to find words to describe it or something to compare it with. Maybe you remember the deep blue of the world globe in the living room at home…The Pacific is about the color of that globe, only more pure and transparent looking, with dimpled swells and fresh whitecaps stretching without end on all sides.”

“A curl of white foam breaks from the plunging, racing bow, and a wide, effervescent wake like a king-sized lime phosphate trails behind us. Beautiful and thrilling sights.”

He supposes that when she steps outside into the Connecticut winter, she envies him his tropical one. As he sits, bathed in perspiration on the searing hot deck, he envies her. He adds dryly, “The scenery on the east side of the Golden Gate is more varied and interesting that on the west side.”

Except for the lack of waiters, deck chairs and female companions, this feels to Dart more like a pleasure cruise. He and his fellow sailors hang out on deck watching the flying fish glistening in the sunlight and the array of sea birds following the ship for hours without moving a muscle. Perhaps they, like Dart, are watching the other ships in the convoy practice their maneuvers.

In a paragraph about the leisure activities on board, the censors take another bite out of the page. Dart talks about radio programs and recorded music playing over the loud speakers on the deck. Then, as he describes the games of checkers, cribbage and the like, about three lines of text are carved out. Hmm.

The “boys” must wear their lifebelts at all times and they’re grateful not to be using the old “Mae West” style of hot, bulky flotation devices.

In the time he’s not been dreaming of their past and future, he has been making a few more sketches of their house, which he’ll send her as soon as the opportunity arises. He misses her daily letters, but looks forward to receiving a big stack of them in the future.

No mail on the 13th, but Dot will be back on the 14th. See you then.

Today we have two brief, unrelated letters from Dart, both written on the 16th, but as he’ll explain, the date is irrelevant where he is. His ship crossed the international dateline sometime last night, so he went from January 14 to January 16, sleeping right through the six hours of his birthday.

Anyway, now that he is 21, he can sign contracts, own cars and houses, and marry without his parents’ consent. He assures her that no consent would be necessary in his case, because his folks heartily approve of his choice in girls. Now he hopes they don’t have to wait until she’s old enough not to need the consent of her parents!

How he hopes things work out the way they’ve dreamed! He hopes they still feel the same way about each other when he gets home and they’re able to spend more time together.

He says that several days ago he wrote a long letter full of restricted information. In it, he also talked about his memories of their limited time together. “I still think you were surrounded by a halo and heavenly music that first moment I saw you, when you came downstairs with Betty Wolf. I was fascinated by your presence all evening. Ever since I met you I’ve been thanking the Lord that I recognized the one girl for me so soon, and captured her heart as well.”

Anyway, he dare not try to get all that restricted material past the censor, so he cannot send the letter.

His next letter begins with the hope that they’ll soon be able to mail letters home. He says this life of ease he’s been leading recently has become a habit. He’s read every magazine and book he could put his hands on, including a raunchy thing called “Shore Leave.” In a rough way, it’s humorous, but definitely not family reading!

He asks her to remind him the next time they’re together to describe Marines. “On second thought, you’d better wait until you’re accustomed to my cuss words. I can’t describe Marines in anything but profanity.” Well!

As we might suppose, he sends his love.

Dart’s idle body has infected his mind. With nothing to do all day but sleep, read, and watch the endless horizon, he finds his brain can think of little to write about. Still, he somehow manages to fill three pages.

He makes the comment that he lives in “mortal fear” that the censors will cut his letters to ribbons. Two things struck me; he seems to get nearly every word of his letters past the prying eyes and sharp instruments of the ship’s board of censors and, he never sees his letters once they are passed on to that body. Because he’s had no word yet from Dot, he has no idea how much of his letters survive for her eyes.

I assume he’s traveling somewhere near the equator, which may account for his days being slightly longer than 24 hours. He also has surmised that he’ll probably not be running into his buddy Fred. It seems the Pacific is quite large and the island where Fred stays is tiny (although Dart does not know what island that is.) He says his group is headed for a different island in a different part of the Pacific. What isn’t clear to me is how he came to the conclusion, without knowing where he’s going or where Fred is staying, that they will not be the same place! Once again, he asks Dot to send him Gordon’s address so that he can keep on the look out for his ship. What fun if they could meet each other for the first time on the other side of the world!

He writes a little about the movies he’s seen recently. Apparently the ship’s crew gets movies almost every night, but as a passenger, Dart has seen only three.

As much as he’d like to be together with Dot, he’s grateful she can’t see him right now. His fair skin has taken quite a beating (or shall I say “broiling”) on the open sea and he has peeled twice already. He mourns the fact that he can’t tan like most of the other guys.

He closes with “I wish you were here, or even more, that I were there.” I’m sure that’s true!

More from Dart tomorrow.

It’s another bonus day, with two letters from Dart. He begins by telling Dot how much he misses being out in a big snow storm. Last winter, he stared out at the snow for weeks on end from inside a hospital. This winter, he’s sailing around endlessly under a tropical sun. That’s quite an adjustment for a boy born and reared in the Snow Belt!

This morning he attended a radio broadcast on deck. It’s a show called “Command Performance,” produced exclusively for the boys serving overseas. Today’s cast of performers reads like a Who’s Who of Hollywood and New York; Jack Benny, Bob Hope, Gary Cooper, Bing Crosby, Lena Horn, Judy Garland, Cab Calloway and Count Basie, to name a few.

Last night, Dart stayed up until midnight writing to Dot and his folks. When he tried to go to sleep, the Marines kept him awake with their raucous card games. “They sleep all day and play poker all night when good folks are trying to sleep,” he groused. I’m beginning to think Dart’s not too fond of Marines.

Now he has to quit writing so he can move around and hope some of the perspiration drenching his shirt evaporates.

Later that day, he’s inspired to write again. Everyone on board is chased down below decks at night fall, for security reasons. He’s heard the night sky at sea is a beautiful sight, but he’s yet to witness it himself.

According to the ship’s scuttlebutt, which is even less reliable than the rumors heard for weeks at Shoemaker, this voyage is nearing an end. Of course, he’ll never be able to tell Dot when they land, or where, but when it happens, he hopes to quickly be assigned to a ship, and “begin at last the business of helping to win the war.” He calls himself an innocent parasite, getting a college education and hospital care from the war bonds people bought thinking they were purchasing guns and jeeps. “More power to the war bond purchasers, and may they live on forever in blissful ignorance of Peterson the Parasite.”

He expects there will be another religious service on deck tomorrow morning. Last Sunday was mostly a hymn and prayer service, with “organ” music provided by an accordion. A brief sermon by a jolly, rotund chaplain followed. Dart, who has never considered himself religious but who’s tried to live a moral life, has had lots of time to think about religion recently. “I believe in it a lot more strongly than ever before. I have reason to, now – probably because never before have I asked for help.”

I’ve heard the expression that there are no atheists in a foxhole. I guess the same can be said of Navy ships.

I’ll be back tomorrow with an update from Dot.