This is the last letter I have before Babe’s family knew he had been killed. It is from my Uncle Bob to Babe, dated May 17, 1945. There is no postmark.
Everyone here is fine. I hope you are the same.
Graduation is almost here for me (I hope) and my school career is almost over.
I am playing on the baseball team at the present time, second base, and field. We won two out of three games so far. I got three for three in my first game, three singles, and I walked almost all the other times, so my batting average is 1000.
I and the rest of us were trying to figure out your batting average, I mean points. How many do you have? You will probably be unlucky enough to just miss it, but I hope not.