Postmarked March 2, 1943, from Camp Upton, Long Island, N.Y.
Pvt. Frank Mauro
5th Rec. Co.
Camp Upton, Long Island, New York
Dear Ma and Pa,
We just had an air raid warning which took up about 1 hour of my valuable time. I could have written a couple of letters in that time. As it is, this is the only letter I have time to write. We have to get plenty of sleep because we never know when we’ll get called for K.P.
To get K.P., someone quietly comes into the tent (at) three o’clock in the morning and gently shakes you to wake you up. As soon as you wake up, you know that you either have K.P. or are being shipped out. You spend eighteen backbreaking hours in the kitchen with a sergeant hanging around to see that there is no loafing.
I haven’t been called for K.P. yet, but I expect to be called this morning or tomorrow morning and I want to be well rested before I do get it.
How is everyone on your end of the line? I hope every is feeling all right there, even though one of the fellows in my tent isn’t in yet and it’s after ten o’clock, long after bed-time. Everyone else in my tent, there are six altogether, are asleep, but I’m taking care of the fire for the night besides writing this letter; that’s the reason I’m still up.
Boy, this Army life is great. The WAACs are in this same camp, only further up the road from us. When all of our company is lined up in formation and some WAACs go by, no one says a word, but, boy, what looks we give them. They don’t seem to mind, though, and in fact, I think they like it.
Well, it’s getting kind of late for me, so I guess I’ll close now. You can’t write yet, though, but I’ll let you know when you can.
Give my regards to everyone,