Dated July 1, 1945; no postmark.
I received your letters the other day and I was glad to hear from you.
You don’t have to mention furlough or pass to me in your letters because if I can get one, I will, and if I can’t get one, which I can’t, then I won’t. I can’t tell them I want a furlough; all I can do is ask and if I don’t get it all I can do is growl, when I get out of earshot, of course.
All I know about myself now is that I am classified as a radio operator. I don’t know what outfit I am in or anything like that. In the army, you get kicked around here and there and they tell you this and that and in the end, you don’t know what they said or did to you.
It was pretty hot here for awhile, but yesterday we had a rainstorm and it cooled down a lot. Last night, I slept under the blanket for the first time since I left Camp Upton. Camp Upton was a good old camp. When I was there, they told me that it was one of the best camps in the country and I thought they were crazy. I found out differently, though. The P.X.’s there were like drug stores and the movies were just as good if not better than the one back home in Kisco. Besides, we could stay up all hours of the night because there was no bed check.
I am not at that camp any more and haven’t been for two weeks. Where did you get the idea I was still there?
I haven’t much to do here all day so I think up card tricks to play on the boys. Right now, I’ve got a good one to pull on them. I already showed it to a couple of fellows and they can’t figure out how it’s done no-how.
Well, I’ll close this document now, so I’ll see you next time.