Dated July 7, 1943; no postmark. Censored.

Dear Folks,

I have time to for a quick letter today so I’ll write it now. I received Vince’s letter today and I’m still here.

I hope you get a lot of grapes this year. Are the Jap beetles bothering them much?

Pop is working my graveyard shift now, is he? Well, I’ll bet he says it’s the best shift. At least, I thought it was the best.

You ought to have a chicken dinner one of these days, shouldn’t you? I understand the chickens are laying eggs already. I hope they keep up the good work.

Your mail isn’t censored at all, but that doesn’t mean you can write anything you want to. If someone wants to read my mail, they might get the bright idea to read yours too, just when you write something interesting.

(Unreadable. Zers?) is here, I think. Joe Cundari told me he saw him the other day, but I haven’t seen him yet. I suppose I’ll run into him one of these days, though.

That’s all folks.

So-long,

Babe

PDF: Your Mail Isn’t Censored, But Don’t Write Anything You Want

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