Letters

24 August 1943

Dearest,
Can't write much tonight as I'm awfully tired. Just finished 14 hours of C.J. with only a few hours of sleep. They're sure piling work on here. I don't like the Co. B. Commander very well; seems to always have 1001 things to do. Of course, all the officers (and they're about 15 in number) are that way. What makes it worse is that the barracks leader in the barracks I teach in is also supply sergeant and is always gone, leaving everything to 2 corporals. Besides, the whole program is new and changes so much from day to day that everything's in a state of flurry and fervor. Now they're adding an extra class for the non-coms in the P.M. (just before retreat). We're charged with innumerable duties and details (details in the mil sense). There I go again. But what gripes me is that everything is so unhandy and unorganized in the unit (as it's new) and we non-coms seem to be a loong way from getting any relief from this mess. They have beautiful plans for us, but they're still on paper and our first trouble is we're short-handed. Walked to the Fort tonight to get some green braid for my cap, and found the tailor shop (where you get it) had closed before 6:00. Wonder when I can possibly get up here in the early afternoon. This is written from the U.S.O. Club at the Fort. The club is a beautiful, spacious, and well-equipped place. In fact, the F.L. Military Reservation as a whole is quite imposing in its grandness and beauty. Guess I must be lonesome to write such sad letters all the time lately. I just wish though sometimes I was a private in basic training rather than being at the S.T.U. I'd have some time of my own there. Maybe things will straighten out here soon. Most of the other non-coms feel the same way I do. They think they're being given more work than their fair share. Some of them came from other camps. It's rather doubtful that I'll be able to get home to see you this coming week-end. Send me $5.00 anyway as quickly as possible. I only have about $3.00 left, and I may have a rather unexpected opportunity to get off for a couple days. Write.
Love, Melvin