July 23-45

Dear Mom,

I started to write you yesterday, but I was so tired and had too much trouble thinking of something to say-that-well. Bob Sckerlca, Forest Hill’s buddy, come over and I stopped everything and went to Red Cross for a snack. I was going to finish the letter later, but “later” was about 11:00 and all I could do was crawl into bed and drop off to sleep. No, I never get lonesome in camp-except when I start thinking about home and when I write you and think how much I wish I could go home. Then, is when it really hurts. (Also) the music on the radio all day Sunday was all my favorite music-making me feel terribly home-sick. Two years certainly can be a long time, can’t it, Mom!!! I guess I’d better stop talking about it.

Just came back from seeing a swell show, “Music for Millions.” Jose Sturbi, symphony orchestra sure, it was a real tear jerker!! One of those shows you love with a swell feeling all over yourself.

Say Mom, Barbie’s 22^nd birthday is coming up soon-8^th of September. I can’t think of anything I can get her this time over here, but I’ll look around when I go up to Aberdeen, Scotland on my furlough. But the general situation seems to be that unless you have coupons you have to make a down deposit on the store to get (anything) really nice. I’ll bet Mrs. H.G. and Mrs. E.I. could get beads together and fix Barbie up with a nice birthday present from me. But, we’ll see- I just want to make sure I take time to have her remembered on her 22^nd birthday.

Well, what is the latest from Paul? I hope he can remember or have a chance to write me again. I doubt very much if I’ll even meet him and in that neck of the woods, simply because I don’t think they’ll have any use for us about these.

Tell Grammy I carry her four-leaf clover in my bill-fold all the time for good luck.

Please write soon and tell me all about the reconditioning of the farm and how everybody is coming along. I hope it won’t be too much longer now until I’ll be seeing you all. Richard is pleased with the second picture of me. One for each of us.

Your loving son,

Chuck