October 4, 1944
(England)
(England)
Dear Mudder and Dad,
“Why ain’t I gittin’ any o’ thet thar mail”? Don’t answer, I know—it’s the postal service. I’d like to strangle somebody. Grin! I feel meaner than the devil.
“Why ain’t I gittin’ any o’ thet thar mail”? Don’t answer, I know—it’s the postal service. I’d like to strangle somebody. Grin! I feel meaner than the devil.
You’ll please note the date. Just one year ago today I came into the blooming army. What a lousy, stinking year it’s been. In some ways it seems longer than a year and others shorter. Anyhoo, I can wear a good conduct ribbon now. Oh thrill! Phfft!
I fired for record today. You know a soldier has to fire for record once a year. This time I made Expert although I thought for a while that I wouldn’t. Just as I moved up on the firing line it started to rain like the very devil. All the while I fired bucketsful of rain were being hurled into my puss. And I’ll be damned if just as I stepped off the line it didn’t stop raining. The gods must be in a league against me. I shouldn’t complain though. I made 176 points and only 172 were required to make Expert.
That’s about it for tonight.
Best love,
Bill
Best love,
Bill
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