April 30, 1944

Berlin, PA

Dear Nick,

I reckon you figgered I died or broke my arms, or something. I’m writing like a hillbilly now. I’m sorry to make you wait so long before sending you word of what has happened in the hometown, but nothing has changed but the weather. We’ve had two nice days so far this month. Maybe you’ll be in Pennsylvania or Texas till you get this. How is Rosemarie? Is she with you or still in Norfolk? Tell her I said hello. You asked about Roy, I never see him much. We were in for a poker game a couple of weeks ago. They are all right, so is Clarence. Clate and Lindy are still in England. Squarey is there too, him and Lindy met in a pub one night. I’ll bet it made a party, “eh wot.”

I’m still going to the mountain, Hazel graduates in a few weeks. I don’t rightly know what will happen after school yet. I think I’ll hunt another job then. Maybe drive for Blue Ridge or come down South and get a job with National Trailways. Doris is here bothering me now, wants me to play ball with her. Mom says you’re not to have a heart attack when you open this letter. I’ve got to close now Nick, and get to the mountain. We’re going to Meyersdale to see Louise. She was operated on for appendicitis on Wednesday. I don’t know whether I’m spelling it right or not. I’ll be hearing from you soon.

“LOTS OF LUCK”

Your friend,

Dick