May 17, 1944

Dear Mom,

The news now is that we won’t be able to write for a while so I’ll get another one off to you while time permits. This is not like Tent City where I would say whatever I wanted to. All that will pass I guess is that I’m on an ocean and going someplace one hell of a distance from home. I wrote Jon one letter also, when this is finished I’ll send her one too. That nice pen I had is gone, somebody copped it so I’m using one borrowed from another guy. I’ll write every time I can when we get to land so don’t get worried. The chow on this thing isn’t so bad but I’ll have malnutrition by the time we hit the island if they don’t increase the amount. Remind me to join the army if I’m young enough for the next war. That corporal gave me five dollars so I’m not completely broke. When we get paid I’ll bong on to my money this time I started this with exactly 62 cents. Oh yes-from now on until you hear from me to the contrary send all my mail to the exact same address you were sending it to me in on New River. That way it’ll catch me sooner or later. I wish to Christ this damn war would wind up so I could get started on the PD again. Hope I don’t lose to much weight from malaria or other typical disease so that I won’t meet weight specifications. I lost as I said before (space cut out) pen so this one is all I could get and it’s a mess. Let the neighbors know I’m on my way, especially those who figured I goldbricked around to much. They can sleep better now. I’ve heard they don’t keep guys in the tropics more than 18 months or so, so I might be back in a couple of years-sober this time. Well Mom, I haven’t a lot more to say except take care of yourself and write frequent long letters by air mail. Let me know if you’re getting your checks from the government too.

Love. Bun, (cut out)