Dear Mudder and Dad,
It’s been quite some time again since I’ve written you but please don’t hold it against me. I’ve been terribly busy and what’s more I haven’t received mail from you in days. I don’t know what’s wrong this time but it doesn’t seem like the army can ever do anything right for over five minutes at a time.
“Der Blitzen ist Kommt”. It’s come at last. I’m being transferred out. I’m leaving on the 6th but as yet I don’t know where I’m going. I may go to Rhiems, France as an M.P. or Stuttgart as a labor gang supervisor or possibly to Military G0vt. I can go practically anywhere but those are the most likely.
The entire point system has been changed around again so that when the Division sails on Dec. 15 there will be only men with between 60 and 65 points going with it. That leaves almost no one of the “Old 100th” in the division as it stands now.
Immediately upon arriving at my destination I’ll send you my new address.
By far the best deal in the army today is the M.G’s (Mil. Govt.). Those birds live like kings. There’s only one drawback. They’ll probably have to stay here longer than anybody with the exception of the permanent army of occupation. That ain’t good.
More men are signing up every day for the Regulars. That’s good. The more sucker—‘er, ah, patriotic citizens who do that the sooner I get home.
There’s not a helluva lot more to write. Things are about the same here as ever. This is a monotonous life. The weather’s cold and sloppy. The only entertainment I get is the movies. I go practically every night.
“Yank” magazine had quite a story about “Mad Man Muntz” this month. That screwball is getting world famous.
They’re beginning to talk about Thanksgiving and Christmas over here now, and “Ye Olde Morale is beginning to take a nosedive into the sewer. This will be my 3rd Christmas away from home. Well, anyway it will be better than the last Christmases. I think I will write a little story about last Christmas and send it to you about that time of year. I think you’ll be interested in it.
That does it I’m afraid.