Dated April 27, 1943; postmarked April 30 from Camp Wheeler.
You remember I told you in my last letter that we were preparing to go out on a hike? Well, that hike was 14 miles long and it was boiling hot out. We got a ten-minute break every hour as always and the hike lasted four hours. When we got back, there wasn’t a man in the company who could have walked another 100 yards without collapsing.
We were so tired when we got in that we couldn’t unlace our leggings. We were too weak all over to do anything but lay on the bed. I was so thirsty when I came in that it took me an hour to quench my thirst. I never drink any water on hikes anyway, or all during the day for that matter. The only time I drink is when I eat and then I make sure I drink plenty.
With all this talk, you must think they are killing us down here. Well, they are, but I don’t mind because it’s for my own good anyway. There is one thing I can brag about, and that is that you can’t beat the first platoon for guts. Not a man ever dropped out of this platoon on a hike or any problem no matter how tough it was and I don’t think anyone will ever drop out of this platoon.
Today we had a couple of hours of code and we did some practical work working with radios in the field. This afternoon, we go on the obstacle course for a couple of hours for some more exhaustive exercise.
I am waiting for mail call right now and I see the mail jerk — I mean, clerk — coming up the road, so I’ll close now.