Dec. 22, 1943

Dear Mom,

Nothing to do for a few moments so another letter to you. I’m doing alright and intend to try and keep it that way if possible. Frank sent me a card, but cards don’t mean much. It’s letters that count.

Anything I tell you about what goes on around here don’t repeat to anybody else, especially the neighbors. We have lots of studying to do to meet inspection requirements. At the time I’m behind in my washing I’ll get it done tonight after I come back from guard duty (4 hours). The Marine Corps I’ve found out by now is the toughest outfit of all for training. Everybody in the barracks has got a bad cold. It’s because of crowded conditions in these holes. One man can infect the whole platoon and does it regularly. I have to laugh at a guy named Treedel here from Rhode Island. He paid $14,000 income tax last year but his money doesn’t help him down here. I have $9.00 when I landed here and gave one away. The remaining 8 will last me forever and so far I haven’t spent a penny. There’s nothing to buy but cigarettes and I still have enough of them.

My hair was cut until I was almost bald but it’s starting to grow a little bit. They make queer looking specimens out of us here. Once in a while we get a fairly good meal but it’s an exception to the rule. I was glad to hear you got that money wince it helps you a little bit. And in insurance I don’t know about, I think it’s paid only if I become a casualty (for good). Otherwise disability benefits are paid, don’t worry about it. It’s worth the monthly premium to know you are protected in case. I’m beginning to appreciate home now that by comparison I’m forced to stay away. You can be sure that I’ll never stay away again this long unless something comes by to make it necessary.

We’ll have a Christmas tree in the barracks and a group to sing carols but it don’t mean anything to me. I won’t feel bad about not being home so that anybody can notice it. I don’t get too chummy with most of these guys here, they’re to much of a conglomerate lot. A kid named Hicks from West Virginia and a boxer from Cleveland named Deyling and I are chummy.

Have a good time Christmas and don’t wear yourself out having a big dinner for everybody and their brother.

Call Weiss’s and tell them Merry Christmas also Shagers, Milers and the rest of the right people. So far no letter from Henry, may be he’s wrapped up with his new marital status and can’t find time. Oh well such is life these days. One thing I don’t envy him is his commission. He’s welcome to it but by his nature and post actions entitled to it at the same time. It would gall him to be in my place see the difference, but I’m happy where I’m at. (very little though)

Well mom I’m boss of the squad that goes on guard duty today and we eat 11 o’clock chow so I’ll have to hustle the boys out.

Everything I need I have except a few coat hangers so all’s well.

Keep plugging along, I should be home sometime in February. Don’t hurt yourself in anyway, that’s the main thing.

I found an empty beer bottle to day and we might hang it on the tree. I’m a hell of a policeman, there’s a beer in this joint but I can’t find it so far. I’ll get it eventually.

Say Merry Xmas to Mollie for me too.

Good Luck-lots of Love.

Bun.

Don’t lose that picture of Betty. Say hello to her for me will you.

Bun.