June 24, 1945

Today Dart writes just a paragraph or two so that Dot can get word from him as often as possible.

He says he’s seeing new things and beautiful places, but has neither the ability, nor the freedom, to describe them. I’ll accept the latter, but never the former. He has the ability to describe almost anything.

He hopes to get off mess duty on July 1. The usual terms for such assignments are three months, but he’s sharing his with another guy. That sailor is due to attend midshipman’s school in a few weeks, so Dart may have to go back and serve the rest of their “sentence.”

The divine services held today were very pleasant, with warm sun, cool breezes and the gentle roll of the ship. It seems that it’s easier for Dart to find inspiration in nature than in scripture and sermons.

That’s all for today.

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June 25, 1945

Finally! Last night, after nearly a month of waiting, Dart received the letter he’s been yearning for – Dot’s answer to his request that they announce their engagement during his next leave! “No, Dear, there was never any doubt in my mind as to what your answer would be. Did you doubt that I’d eventually ask about our engagement? I knew you’d say yes. I wanted to get the ball rolling now, rather than wait a couple of months and have a lot of hectic rushing around to do, in the way of rings and things.”

His next paragraph is a stunner! He thinks September would be the month when they can make their announcement! He must write to her parents today, but having never been in this position before, he’s at a loss as to what to say. He misses his Pop’s guiding hand right about now.

How relieved he is that Dot’s mother is in agreement. He hopes that her father is, too. More importantly, he must now work to assure that both her parents stay in agreement with the plan. (There’s precious little threat in that regard.) His parents agree that these two kids have the “makin’s of a very happy life together.” Dart thinks it’s so much nicer when all the parents are on board.

He doesn’t think 19 is too young to become engaged. They still have a little time before they marry to make plans together and to grow, “and still be young enough when we’re married so that we can still have the fun of young people and do the things young people do.”

Her letter has made Dart very happy – “The kind of happiness that makes a guy want to sit down and dream.”

But he pulls himself away to other topics. The shore leave scheduled for today was cancelled because the transport boats are too busy to bother with taxi service to the beach. Instead, a very rare “swimming call” has been issued, allowing the men to swim in the open water on the port side of the ship.

His mother wrote that Burke left for the Navy on June 12, after a fun and hectic few weeks. His best friend lived at their house for the last four weeks of high school and the boys and their “steadies” squeezed in all the fun they could manage. Helen reports that Burke wore a tuxedo to his prom and was just portly enough to look pompous. “Imagine, a ‘portly, pompous kid brother,” exclaims Dart. Actually, both those adjectives continued to describe my Uncle Burke for years to come.

The last page of this letter consists mostly of one of Dart’s humorous sketches. It depicts a very large globe of the Earth with a grinning sailor perched on top. “I guess you know who this is supposed to be, It’s the way I feel, sitting on top of the world.”

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June 26, 1945

Dart, claiming to be the luckiest guy on the ship, has received 12 letters since last night. Half of them are from Dot and one came from Fred.

He was sorry to hear of Gordon’s accident and hopes his recovery is speedy and that he has no lasting impairments.

The biggest news contained in Dot’s letters was that she’s planning to go to college in September. He’s delighted! And he’s not just saying that to get on her good side after his negative reactions to her previous plans! He, too, has been considering Kent State as his alma mater, if they take transfer credits from Case. He’s heard they have strong English and Journalism courses. If she starts in September and the war ends soon enough, he could enroll as a mid-year Sophmore at about the time she reaches that same point. He’s so very excited that she’s going to school and that they’ll be living so close to each other.

Of the letter from Fred, Dart writes, it “is the most disconsolate, bitter, discouraged piece of writing I’ve ever seen. If it were sent by a boy to his mother, it would break her heart. He has the makings of a great writer, but he’s cracking, I’m afraid….If he’s not a psycho case in less than a year, I’ll eat my greasy old sailor hat. I feel only pity for Fred.”

This paragraph was hard for me to read. Over the course of these letters, I’ve marveled at the depth of friendship and personal respect these two intelligent young men had for each other. Still, I knew I never heard Dad mention Fred when I was growing up. I asked Mom whether Fred returned to Cleveland after the war and if he and Dad stayed close. She said that although both of them lived in Cleveland when they got out of the service, they were never really close after the war. In Dart’s opinion, Fred had become dangerously angry and dark. Dart found none of the foundation for friendship that had been there in high school, and they just drifted apart.

He continued the letter later that evening to describe a beautiful night; perfect full moon, an array of sparkling constellations in the sky, the lights of aircraft landing on a nearby island. He said it was the kind of night that made every man on board wish for a sweetheart, a wife, or a family to share it with at that moment.

Soon, he must write to Dot’s parents, especially her father. His parents have counseled him that it’s still customary to have a young lady’s father’s blessing before announcing an engagement.

She asked him what other girls say when they hear sweet nothings whispered in their ear. He explains that he has very limited experience. He experimented once with the girl who wore the black sequin gown, but she simply said, “Oh, hush! You sound silly when you say things like that. Why don’t you say what you mean?” All he’d said was that she looked pretty, but he was not convinced, so he couldn’t convince her. He vowed then to never try that approach again until he could truly believe the sweet things he was saying.

He must leave her now to write a couple of letters. To her folks, perhaps?

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Dot asks forgiveness for failing to write last night. After writing to Dart’s mother, she was too tired to hold a pen. She’ll try to write every day and hope that somehow her letters get through to him eventually. She’s terribly curious about what he might be doing now to prevent mail from coming in or going out. She hopes he’s safe and that she’ll soon have a letter reassuring her of the fact.

Tonight she vowed she’d stay home and catch up on three weeks worth of ironing. But, Mrs. Hollerhan called and whined that she really wished she and Dr. Hollerhan could go see a movie tonight. Consequently, Dot finds herself babysitting. She was clever enough to ask Mrs. H if she could bring her ironing, so now, she’s getting paid to do what she was willing to stay home and do for free.

Even though Gordon is doing better with his injury, Dot wishes the Navy would send him home. She wishes the Navy had the same point system the Army uses so that men with lots of duty time, or those who have sustained injuries can get home sooner.

In response to Dart’s question about whether Lake Sunapee ever warms up over the summer, Dot writes, “Sunapee is the nearest thing to Paradise on Earth, so naturally it warms up to just the right temperature in the summer, and stays that way just long enough.” I can see where I (and all of my cousins) get our blind spot about the perfections of Sunapee. I dare anyone to try and stop us from believing it’s the world’s most perfect place.

Returning to a subject that obviously weighs heavily on her mind, Dot writes, “You’re a great one for leaving me up in the air about something. First, you say the days of no mail will be ‘long, long days, for many, many reasons,’ But you fail to give the slightest hint as to what those reasons are. Then you say I continue to amaze you, but you don’t tell me why or how.” She says his letters are like crowssword puzzles. The thing is, he’s gone through these mail blackouts before and Dot has taken them in stride. Why is this one different? I suspect she has some kind of “vibe” that there is something out of the ordinary going on. She can’t really know about the near-destruction of the Haggard, yet she’s antsy. I think the girl is slightly psychic!

She figures the censors have Dart petrified. There hasn’t been so much as a period removed from his letters in weeks. She wonders if he’s ever been able to use the code he and his father devised to give some hints as to his whereabouts. She doesn’t see how that would have the potential for putting the ship at risk, but concedes that the Navy might know something she doesn’t.

How relieved she was to learn that Dart has whistled at girls! Up to the point of reading his embarrassing story about whistling, she was sure he wasn’t human, but now she’s reassured. “When boys whistle at me (which at my young age is far too seldom), I whistle right back at them. That usually embarrasses them more than anything I could think of to say.”

Her curiosity bubbles up again when she asks him what incident occured to make him change his about about the stature of that “if.” She begs him to open up. “The suspense is killing me. I’m awfully glad you changed your mind, but can’t you tell me why?”

She tells him he’ll have to wait for the answer to his question about how she’ll act when she gets married. “You see, I’ve never been married before and it will be a completely new experience for me. I’d be much obliged if you’d make a date now to be around then so I can give you a blow by blow description of what it’s like.”

In a sudden show of emotion, she writes that she misses him so much it’s almost unbearable. “Oh, why don’t the Japs give up now so you can come home soon?…I love you with all that’s in me. Remember that and keep it in mind ’til I’m around to constantly remind you.”

She signs off with “God bless you, Darling. I love you always, Dorothy.”

Then she adds a P.S. that her friend Cynthia just came home from college and asked to be remembered to Dart. She and her “intended” are just about as far along in their love life as Dot and Dart are, and they only met last August. “See, it makes a big difference where a sailor is stationed.”

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June 27, 1945

It’s very short notes from both Dart and Dot today.  With wry understatement, Dart asks Dot if she recalls him mentioning a guy named Fred a time or two. As it turns out, Dart was part of a recreation party that went ashore today in a “God-fosaken hole,” when he ran into Fred! Small world. He remarks that it was good to meet an old acquaintance so far from home. He said Fred looked good, was in a good situation, but didn’t appreciate it much.

He refers once again to Nancy’s dream, which seems to be a favorite of Dot’s. If I recall correctly, it was one where Dart showed up in Greenwich in civilian clothes. “Other dreams have come true, such as our plans for being engaged.” He has hinted in the past that Nancy’s dream may come true as well.

He asks Dot if Kent State starts in early or late September. “The success of my idea does not depend on it, but it may help to know.” He asks about the big family dinner that the Chamberlains traditionally used to announce a daughter’s engagement. “Isn’t everyone usually there, including the young lady and gent?”

All of these hints and questions could lead a person to think he’s looking at a September leave. Does he know something we don’t?

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Dot makes her letter short because she’s in a funk and doesn’t want it to infect Dart. She’s been so worried about Dart and Gordon. She can’t see why the Navy won’t send her brother home after 14 months at sea and now an injury causing months of disability.

“Oh Dart, what’s wrong with me? I’m not usually this way but today something kept telling me something was going to happen. I’m not usually this way but today I’ve been unable to help myself.” What she says is true. I’ve never known a person less prone to worrying or stewing about whty might happen. She always told me that worrying was just borrowing trouble from the future. The best defense when something bad does happen is to be relaxed and rested so that you’re more able to deal with it. Dad was always the one who carried the “worry gene” in our family, but even young Dot has proven herself susceptible. Maybe now that her dreams of marriage to Dart are becoming real, she realizes how much she has to lose.

“Darling, forgive me. It’s only that I love you so very, very much and do so want to know everything is all right. God bless you and keep you safe.”

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June 28, 1945

Still in port, Dart announces that he may be done with his lowly mess hall duty in the next couple of days.

He tells Dot that today he wrote a long letter to Fred, trying to square him up after that disheartening letter he received from Fred last Sunday. “He’s lost what a person needs most out here: faith and the ability to find the best in things. Of course I gripe. Everyone gripes. We call it something else out here, but it’ griping and complaining allee samee. But Fred seems unable to see the better points of his life.”

Dart ennumerates “the better points” of Fred’s life: He’s safe. There are no more air raids on his island. He has a fairly good job. Staff Sgt. in the Marines is no small feat. While he has a good family, an agile mind and great friends, he can’t seem to see those things. He thrives on less pleasant things. “I wish there were something I could do to bring him around again to the old, cheerful Fred who could sling a line of satire instead of a screaming, continual gripe.”

He writes at length in a vague manner of shattering many myths out on this sea cruise. He talks about seeing so many of the locations he’s only heard about in the news, hence they were myths to him. Now they are actual places, ports of call, with their own distinct features. “But if I should tell others, it would be as mythology to them, for the mind cannot see things as they are, without the eyes having seen them first.”

He continues by describing the mythical ships which sail around him. The battleships “loom above the horizon like a fairy tale’s enchanted castle. They slog through the same seas that throw a (destroyer) halfway over on her side.”

Warships nice, graceful, beautiful? Sure, says Dart. They can be. One only has to focus on the positive rather than the dark side. He’s been trying for two months to live by this creed and he has evidence it works. “I’m happy. The finest girl in the world has said what I’d expected her to say, ever since we met in 1943. My Darling Dot, I love you and miss you so very much.”

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June 29, 1945

Once again, Dart writes from port. If he’s spending so much time in port, why has there been no mail?

If it weren’t for the cool breezes at night, he’s not sure how anyone could survive the tropical mugginess. As he sits in the little fire control “shack” he can see stars in the clear sky, and hear sounds from the many ships anchored nearby.

The Haggard is showing its movie at one end of the ship while the destroyer tied up next to her is showing a movie midship. That gives the men on both vessels a choice of which old, bad movie they want to watch. Dart and his buddy Donn Byron have opted instead to write to their sweethearts from their little workshop/shack. Among the tools, work benches and other supplies of their trade sit the photos of Dot and Pauline. “They’re both much prettier and more wholesome-looking than the pin-ups which grace (?) the bulkheads. Of course, I favor your picture.”

There are numerous little shacks or other small areas around the ship where specialized work is done by day, and bull sessions or private chats occur at night. In these spaces, there’s always a coffee pot brewing. Most guys can also find a snack of fried egg sandwiches or something similar to relieve the tedium of the late night watches.

“We love our little comforts. The ship wouldn’t be home without them. Of course, the food we use is not exactly always obtained honestly. Once in a while a loophole or two is tightened up, but it isn’t long before another one opens and we’re eating again.” It kinda sounds like adolescent boys and their clubhouses making raids on Mom’s kitchen, doesn’t it?

He agrees with Dot that June’s full moon was a beautiful sight, especially with huge tropical clouds and an island as the backdrop. It made him especially lonesome for her. He doesn’t know what exactly it is about those moons that makes everyone want to fall in love, but it sure does work!

As they write, Donn is exchanging a few slams with Pauline about her cooking, leading Dart to ask about Dot’s cooking. “I’ve had some delicious cookies and fudge from you. If it’s all as good as those were, I’ll be happy. Or is it best that we plan for me to be a very successful writer and we hire a cook? I’ll have to sample some of yours pretty soon.”

The officer of the day just stopped by to shoot the breeze. He complains that some of the guys are working the censors pretty hard with all the letters they write. He also remarked that some on board can sling a “pretty good line of guff” to their sweethearts. A man named Hite who has just joined them says it’s best to go easy on the lines before marriage so you can lay it on thicker afterward in order to ward off disillusionment. “He’s been happily married for nine years and he loves it. I love to hear him talk about his wife and little boy.” How sweet – that Hite feels that way and that young Dart appreciates it.

He wishes he could stay up all night telling her of things he remembers – memories that come wafting in on the gentle breezes. He dangles before her the mention of the neighborhood scents that came into his window as he sat and did homework; the woodsy aromas of Uncle Guy’s “country estate”; the early dawn fogginess witnessed by swing shift workers like himself. He wants to share it all with her.

“All the love I have to give is yours for the rest of my life, Dot. I feel happy all over every time I think of being engaged to you! Oh, for September, when we can let the whole world know!”

There’s that September thing again. Surely he knows something.

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Dot was thrilled to get a letter from Dart today, written on the 24th, postmarked the 25th and arrived today! Great service. She hopes that means he’s on his way home. She deems this letter the most welcomed letter she’s ever received because she’s been so worried about him this week. What a relief to know that he’s okay!

She’s enclosing an anniversary present for him which he can consider an early gift for the September 25th anniversary of the day they met, or the first anniversary of his July 2 trip to Greenwich. In either case, it’s a new portrait of her. “My hair looks like I just got out of bed, which means it’s a good likeness. Bet you get awfully tired of that stupid grin.” (I’ll bet he doesn’t!)

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June 30, 1945

Today’s letter to Dot is a hodgepodge – mostly comments about letters from her, or random thoughts about Navy life.

He never heard a word from Burke as to whether or not he’d received Dart’s letter about their parents’ anniversary gift. But, he also never received  a response from his father about the proper way to go about getting oneself engaged to a young lady. “So, the fact that I do not receive letters is no sign that such letters were not written.” That may be true, but the Navy has done a remarkable job of getting mail through in both directions throughout the duration of the war.

He commented about how she spelled “apologize” in a recent letter. He notes that she, like he, spelled it with a “z” rather than an “s.” He says he spells it that way by instinct, but it looks odd to him. He claims to do nearly all his spelling by instinct, “so if it’s wrong, it’ll probably stay wrong.” As it turns out, his instincts were nearly always right. I don’t think Dad ever met a word he couldn’t spell correctly.

Quoting Dot’s desire for a pool or a puddle, he quips that if she’d seen as much water as he has, she’d never want to see more, ever again. He concedes, however, that he wouldn’t mind seeing that patch of salt water that stands between him and Dot just one more time.

If he were to be accepted back into the V-12 unit, he’d be in the Naval Reserves for quite some time. He’s not sure that’s the best plan for his life, but he looks forward to talking it over with Dot and his folks.

He imagines she looked “sharp as can be” in those short little pigtails. Naturally, he’d like to judge for himself. He doesn’t mind a bit if she does so much reminiscing in her letters. The only problem is she gets him dreaming rather than writing. In answer to her question, he doesn’t recall how many times he kissed her that night, except that it wasn’t enough. If he’d kissed her enough, he’d still be doing it!

Thinking about when the car died on their long drive that Wednesday night, he was so embarrassed. He feared she’d think he was pulling the old “car ran out of gas” gag that’s used in so many movies. He was frustrated with himself for letting the car break down.

He went out on liberty again today. The Red Cross runs a little recreation place by the beach where he was able to buy three Cokes for 15 cents! He ws equally impressed by the sight of two women whose official duty was to hand out refreshments, but who really improved the scenery. But his biggest thrill of the day was seeing a “real American dial phone system on some remote Western Pacific island. That’s how completely and how suddenly we do things. Move right in and make the tropics as much like home as possible.”

If she goes to college at Kent – which he surely hopes she’ll do – she’ll be only a nice Sunday dinner trip from Cleveland. He knows his parents would like that.

He’s done with his mess duty and will begin standing three watches a day once again.

He’s out of paper, with only enough space to write, “I love you very much, Dot. More than a million letters could ever tell you. Words alone cannot express it. There must be a lifetime of all things together for me to adequately express it. All words can do is say ‘I love you,’ no matter how they’re combined.”

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“Never mind surprises,” writes Dot. “Just come home!” She decided this afternoon that she didn’t want him to surprise her with his homecoming. This realization came to her when she was mowing the lawn in her father’s old shirt, a pair of dungarees and a bandana. It was 94 degrees and she was dripping in sweat when she suddenly realized in horror that Dart might someday come home and find her looking like that! “That mustn’t happen!”

He writes as though he’s sure he’ll be home soon and that they can announce their engagement in the fall. She wishes he wouldn’t do that until he was really sure. “I’m so starved for the sight of you I’m going nuts. Maybe they can separate other girls from their loved ones but I’m different. I’m weak and can’t take it like most of them. Perhaps if you make that clear to the Admiral, he’ll send you home immediately, if not sooner.”

She thanks him for the second birthday letter and assures him that she won’t forget how many special kisses they owe each other. “My main problem at present seems to be getting you here to collect them.”

She’s eager to hear his parents’ reaction to their engagement, and hopes it’s positive.  For now, it’s too hot to do anything but lie still and wish it were cooler, so she must end this letter. After sending her love, she adds a P.S. saying that she’s glad he likes bricks.

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July 1, 1945

There’s scarcely an iota of romance in Dart’s letter today. Too little time before he stands watch, too much on his mind.

He begins with, “Today I was home for a few minutes. No, not really, truly home, but for a few minutes today, the war, the Pacific, the Haggard did not exisit. Fred Dixon came down to the ship to spend the morning and eat lunch.”

They spent some time looking at Dart’s photos, talking over old times and their plans for the future. “It was really good to see someone from home again, someone who called me by my first name. I hear it so seldom that Fred’s use of it jarred me. I’d almost forgotten I had any other name than Pete.”

Fred dislikes ships. He dislikes his island. He’s bored with his humdrum assignment and envies Dart’s travels, even as he doesn’t envy some of the things Dart has experienced. His envy’s a case of ‘the grass is always greener.'”

Dart wonders when their paths will cross again – the Pacific, the Orient, perhaps even Cleveland.

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Dot’s letter is also just one page long, but much more intimate than Dart’s. It was one year ago today that Dart was in Greenwich. “The third time in my life that I saw you; yet it took only the first meeting to know that I was in love with you.” This time last year was also the time she heard his mother say on the telephone that he could extend his visit in Greenwich by a day and Dot ran upstairs to kiss him. How she longs to relive that moment! Now!

But the 1945 version of the day was not quite so blissful. She babysat for Chris and Eric, but this was the day Eric decided to run his tear ducts completely dry by howling the entire day. “He’d be stiff competition for Nelson Eddy.”

She’s exhausted and must fall into bed.

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July 2, 1945

Dart’s letter today begins by describing his watch duties and continues into tomorrow, making up for the romance that yesterday’s letter lacked.

His new watch station sits high above the bridge of the ship in the “gizmo.” (He’s not allowed to call it by it’s real name.) If she looks at the magazine photo of a destroyer that he sent her, his watch station will be clearly visible.

From high atop the ship, he has a better view of the sea and sky than he ever has before. Tonight’s sunset warranted a detailed description of colors, textures and feelings. The sea was so glassy smooth that the reflections of the moon and stars didn’t even dance or twinkle. How can a body of water as vast as the Pacific ever be that still?

He has another watch at 0400, so he stops to get some sleep.

It’s July 3 when he resumes his letter. Like Dot, he is reminiscing about their brief but memorable visit in Greenwich just a year ago. It seems an eternity has passed since then. He tells Dot he’s terribly lonely for her. “Just lonely and longing for the sight of you; for the heartwarming, peaceful thrill I have when I hold you tightly in my arms; for the touch of your lips on mine; for the gentle brush of your cheek. And I long for other things too. I like to walk with you. Your walk is so full of pep and so lively, and we seem to have fallen into step with each other from the start. I want to hear you laugh, to see the brilliant flash of your eyes and your mouth when you cut loose with a good, hearty laugh. I like the clothes you wear and the way you wear them.”

He ends by telling her how unspeakably proud and happy he is that “we can at last announce publicly the intentions that we’ve had so long. How can we wait for that big day?”

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Dot is so excited to think Dart might be home in September. She wants detail! Is he sure? Will that really be the time they can announce their engagement? How will she sleep between now and then? (Sadly, she reports that the excitement has not managed to curtail her appetite.)

She hopes he can use his powers of persuasion to convince his parents to either visit her this summer and maybe even go up to Sunapee over Labor Day, or stay through to the announcement party.

Were his ears burning last night around 5:00? She was saying some particularly nice things about him to the girls at work.

She’s asking herself now why she wrote that letter after El’s engagement was broken. Honestly, she has all the faith in the world that she and Dart will not end up the same way, but the shock of Don’s betrayal really shook her foundation for a while. She still thinks she and Dart will need to make time for one (or more) of those long talks, but she knows they’ll be okay.

Her news seems to be so compact when compared with Dart’s. Tomorrow, she’ll try to write a rambling letter, as she so often sets out to do. Maybe there’ll be more to say then, in addition to the perpetual reminder that she loves him with all her heart.

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July 3, 1945

“My Darling, I have just spent three hours which rank among the most beautiful hours of my life.”

So begins an exquisite letter from Dart about his arrival at an island of nearly indescribable splendor. To paraphrase such a letter would be to wipe an oily cloth across the face of a freshly painted masterpiece. It would be akin to screeching out a glorious symphony on a plastic flute.

I will include here some of the phrases and sentences that Dart crafted, but that is like taking a sampling of pearls from a long, lustrous string. I beg the reader to read the pages pictured below. They provide a treat well worth the effort.

“The beauty of the island as we approached it far surpassed any ideas I’d had of it. …The island lay before us, framed in blue. Deep blue of the sea met light blue of the sky at the ends of the land. Above the light sky were the clouds, and above the clouds was the azure dome of Heaven.”

“As the sun went down, the moon appeared in the sky over the island. Another thrill of peaceful beauty. (Can it be that there’s a war somewhere?)”

“Lights began to glow on the island. Neat rows of lights, terraced up the hillsides, blinked on one by one. Bright headlights of trucks and jeeps moved along the roads. Soon only the dazzling white moon, the blackness of the land and water, and the myriad lights were visible. Rows of diamonds on black silk and velvet.”

“A man down on the anchor chain swung a mallet, knocked out a pin, and the anchor was rattling down, down into the still water. The whistle blew and the Haggard was again at anchor in a place she’d helped to take many months ago.”

Dart talks of the entire crew, enthralled by the scene, and wishing a loved one were seeing it with him. He muses about what was going through the Skipper’s mind as they maneuvered into port. Was he concentrating soley on the ship’s range and bearing, or was he induging in a bit of sentiment like his men, wishing someone lovely could be there with him?

“You were with me in spirit tonight, Dot. I know. I felt your presence. I love you always and forever.”

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Dot is puffed up and proud that she drove all over town tonight without mishap. She’s been practicing this week in the long driveway and is happy to report that all the trees remain intact. She had a chance to drive the Miller’s Buick convertible this week and has decided that’s the family car she thinks she and Dart should strive for.

She’s looking forward to her holiday tomorrow, which she plans to spend at Island Beach. It’ll be her first visit to the beach this season and she intends to get a nice, deep tan. (Except on her nose, which will undoubtedly burn to a bright, glowing red.)

Her cousins David and Sammy will be arriving on Thursday night. David is about to enter the Navy and wants to see NYC before he goes. Dot thinks his real desire is to see his girlfriend, who lives in Brooklyn. Sammy, age 16, is just looking to have a little summer fun. The Chamberlains plan to take the boys to see a couple of plays, such as “Life With Father.” They’ll also go to Playland if the weather cooperates.

Dot got a “newsy and entertaining” letter from Dart’s mother today. She’s kindly invited Dot to spend as many weekends as she can with the Petersons in Cleveland when she comes to Ohio for college. Dot wishes she’d get the letter from Dart expressing his opinion about her college plans, but she hopes she only gets one such letter!

As she tries to expand her letter past the second page, she recalls that one year ago tonight, Dart was on a train heading back to Cleveland and Dot was about to come back down to Earth with a terrific THUD! “Perhaps you were eating the box lunch I packed for you, or maybe you were reading the note I wrote. Betcha it won’t be the same now. I won’t have to write notes anymore ’cause I will tell you I love you, right to your face. I’ve been practicing with your picture every night, and it comes almost as naturally as brushing my teeth. (What a thing to associate it with!) That’s not using good taste. Or should I say paste? Oh, let’s pretend I didn’t mention it.”

Have you ever noticed that Dot almost always wraps up a bit of sentimentality in a corny little joke? I think she’s still a little uncomfortable with all that “mushy stuff.”

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