April 28, 1943

Dear Mother,

I’m a permanent table waiter in an officers’ mess hall now and work every other day. And on our free day we are supposed to get a pass into town. I got one today but I don’t think we’ll get very many. Herb is not in on this and is probably back there drilling his ass off.

I'm writing this in the center here but haven’t looked the place over yet. From here I’ll probably go to a show I guess.

I have to be back in camp at 9 pm.

My ears are all cleared up now and back to normal.

I think I’ll quit and see what’s going on.

It costs us .25 each way here. They sure try to jip you if they can.

Your son,

Melvin