Camp Trumbull, Conn.
May 3, 1942
This will probably be what Roger used to call “a quick one”, as it is late, I am tired and besides, there is not much in volume of news to report this weekend.
I am late getting started because this has been a busy day hereabouts. To start at the beginning, yesterday afternoon, after getting lunch and donning my old clothes, I tackled the semi-annual job of cleaning out the incinerator. Lad was working, Dave at the movies and Dick asleep, so I started soloing. The first job was to gather fuel as the darn contraption was full to overflowing, and there being much to burn out, I needed a full supply of wood. So around the yard I goes, with the wheelbarrow, picking up sticks, broken limbs from trees that the winter had treated roughly and in general, cleaning up the yard. Later Paul came out and between us we rigged up the old blower that used to be in the furnace, cut pieces of tin to seal up the front, spliced up wire enough to give sufficient length and for the rest of the afternoon ran a little blast furnace, which with frequent stokings, did a very good job. I kept it going during supper and until about 10:30 P. M. Then I came in and gave the kitchen floor a thorough cleaning – – the first it has had for many moons. I guess Dan did it the last time (how I miss that boy on these days when there is so much to do outside and in, too). This took me until about midnight.
This morning, after getting dinner in process, I started to clean out the cans, melted bottles, burned-out garbage, and as a byproduct, two suffocated rats. Lad and Dick were out horseback riding and Dave had gone to church, and, as I needed baskets to put the rubbish in, and all the baskets were filled with ashes, these had to be emptied. In this Paul helped and David, after coming home from his devotions. I worked away merrily, as the saying goes, until about 2 P. M., came in, took a bath and put dinner on the table. Meantime, Lad and Dick had come home and started to take the lawnmower apart for it’s seasonal cleaning. This took them until about 3:30 when they came in, got washed up and we had dinner. After dinner, Mr. Ives, who is home again from the hospital, offered the use of his trailer to take the 25 or so filled baskets down to the end of the driveway so that the town trucks could pick them up during their annual spring rubbish collection. Lad then cut the grass and returned some empty oil cans we had borrowed some weeks before and I got busy repairing faucets in the bathroom, which were leaking and needed new washers. Thus, tired but with a sense of accomplishment, I turned to the job of setting down these homely facts for posterity to gloat over and let you boys out on the firing line know that we are carrying on as usual.
Tomorrow, I’ll finish this letter. The rest of the week will be devoted to Lad’s entrance into the Army.
Saturday and Sunday, I’ll have more Special Pictures for you.
Next week, I’ll be posting letters written in 1944, as the year comes to a close.