Dear Mudder and Dad,
I just received two letters from you which came in approximately ten days. The day before yesterday when I wrote my last letter I was so furious that I couldn’t see straight, but today I realize that it doesn’t mean a thing. The situation is in such a state of flux that nobody knows what the situation is. However, I’m sure we’ll get out of here before too very long. Combat troops are going to squawk this time ‘til they get a break. One non-com in this Company has a running correspondence with Senator Vandenberg (and no seeds either) who is interested in the Infantryman’s point of view.
It’s a warm sultry evening and the rain is just beginning to fall. Everyone’s nerves are raw with this boring existence but next week I believe we’ll move to Karlsruhe which is a good sized town and has all sorts of facilities, especially for entertainment. Another thing is that Karlsruhe is practically on the French frontier. We will be relieving the 106 Inf. Div. which is going home.
That’s about all of any importance except of course the usual request for a package of candy, cookies, and anything else on hand. They’ve got big posters all over the barracks saying, “If you’re going home before Xmas Notify your people Not to send Xmas packages.” Lovely, huh? HOW IN HELL SHOULD I KNOW. Oh well, more later.