Tuesday, April 25, 1944

Dear Aunt Leona,

            I’ve just written a letter from here to Aunt Irene. Two in one day, that’s pretty good for me now.

            We’ve been here at Myrtle Beach since Sunday evening at seven o’clock. We left Greenville at eight o’clock Sunday morning in army trucks. Boy, what a ride?!

            We stopped at Columbia, S.C. for dinner and also at Florence, the place where Herb is stationed. We followed a thunder storm all the way down, so we got a little wet on the top of the bumps. I guess we’ll be able to stand it for a week, though. I have my camera here, against regulations so I may have some pictures for you. I still haven’t sent the other films.

            So far we’ve made two missions, but on the one yesterday I got air sick. It sure was rough! They finally had to ground all planes because it was too rough to fly. I haven’t felt so hot since.
We’re all hoping for good weather so we can get out of here early.

            So far I have made four missions, and I believe that I only need six. Monday morning it was really rough. In fact, I got sick again, but couldn’t vomit. I tried and tried-boy, I was really sick. Roger didn’t get sick, that’s what I can’t figure out. Monday afternoon, just as we were about to go up again, the field closed down as far as gunnery missions were concerned, it was too rough. I felt pretty happy when they told me that.

            The pilots that fly down here are all pretty good and most of them have had more than a thousand hours in a B-25

            As far as parachutes go, we take them along, but we fly so close to the ground we wouldn’t be able to use them anyway. However, don’t worry, honey, nothing ever goes wrong.

            Some of the fellows went swimming in the Atlantic tonight, but it looked too cold to me, and anyway, I don’t feel so hot.

            We finish school here June 16, I believe, so you see, I don’t have very long, yet. I’m sick of G.I. schools by now.

            Well, I guess I had better close for now.

Love,

Don

p.s. I suppose I’ll have a lot of mail when I get back to Greenville.