10:10 P.M.

Nov. 20, 1942

 

Dear mother:

            I received your letter this noon that was mailed the 19th.

            Forget about the map because I’m leaving here now and wouldn’t have any use for it.

            This Saturday we get a 13 mile hike and Sunday I check in some of my equipment and pack my bags.  We pull out in the morning for Tyler, Texas.  Deep in the heart of Texas.  It is located between Dallas, Texas and Shreveport, Louisiana.  If you look on the map you will see it, because I have already seen it.

            This is a high class school for radio operators.  I probably will like it a lot down there, because I’ve always wanted to go to Texas any how.  And now I get there for nothing.  I bet it’s nice and warn there.  A few of the boys were shipped to Chicago, but they were all from out west.  The army makes very sure you’re not shipped close to home.  Because as I’ve heard it, when, the soldier is further away from home he studies better.

            This course will probably last 13 weeks.  I don’t know anything about it.

            Glad to hear that we now have a hunting dog.  I believe this dog is very good for duck hunting too.

            You can subscribe for outdoor life if you want.  The magazines won’t do me any good, but maybe dad would want it.  Look in the drawer where all the pictures are piled in the buffet and you will find a card with the date on it when the subscription expired.

            Keep all the Enthusiasts in the usual place, because I want to save all of them for years to come.

            I don’t know about that Corporal crap.  We were to be made corporals when we were shipped out, but I haven’t heard anything.  I think that’s just a line they have.

            Well I have to get some sleep now for I got up at 5:30 in the morning.

            Keep the picture postcards I am going to send home & put them in my album.  Also the notice of change of addresses.

            I’ll write when I get to Texas. 

You should know I’m going tonight because I made a call to C.H.

 

Your son,

      Melvin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

People:

None

 

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