Dan is in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, being trained by the Army in survey work and his younger brother remains in Anchorage, Alaska, working at the air base there, repairing and maintaining planes and flying as a Bush Pilot.
Cedric “Frump” Guion
The Examination Stamp
letter written on yellow lined paper in pencil
My Poor Salacious Siwach —
I again take up my pen(cil, sadly) with mounting misgivings, fearful lest the next letter from you, inspired by this one, will divulge some new heinous outrage perpetrated by you (and that handful of masculine harlotry living with you) against the gentle folk of pastoral Alaska.
But when duty calls, it always finds me right “on the ball” (eight) (or should I say “testicles”, to rhyme with “calls”?), Except when it comes to changing my luck – – – – I have decided to stop changing my luck, not because I do not need any better luck, but rather because I have learned, to my consternation, that these blue ball dispensing black belles are better un-bumped, taken from either side.
Kitty and Cortina:
If you or Kay can find any use in Anchorage for those records, or any potential customer (anything over $10), you may return them (or sell them). If they are serving no purpose, you might send them back home before the Japs mistake them for rye crisps and suffer indigestion !
Volly P. –
My best regards, and stick around! I’ll be back after the war if there is any after.
Rusty’s pipe –
The curfew tolls the knell of parting bedbugs. It is cheaper than conventional fumigation, anyhow!
You are free to use your own judgment. Cars are actually worth less around here at present, but values will leap when gasoline and rubber become available and new cars are not yet on the production lines. I suppose Alaska faces a similar situation.
Dad’s allusion about my being sent to Alaska – mostly the old A. D. imagination. I told him that rumors were extant concerning possible moves in the fall to foreign lands – – – – and Alaska was one meager possibility among several others, equally as meager.
My being pleased with the Army –
It’s malicious slander, that’s what it is! I like the place I live in. I like the survey work. I like the men who are on it with me, but my greatest pleasure would be to stand with my legs spread out and my cock in both hands, and piss on everything military, from the whistle at reveille until the whistle at “recall”, wetting down particularly the sections relating to discipline and silly military customs.
I have become a part (1/4) of a quartet, during the last week or so, and already have performed for the royal awestruck congregation at the 1st Baptist church, and for the local version of the R.F.A.D. (the vice of the Golden South). Tonight we four shall offer unction to the oafs at some corny revival meeting. It is for this meeting that I must close this letter, for time is bisecting itself with alarming rapidity, and I must away!
Give my regards to everyone, even Rutting Red, the Renegade –
The rest of the week will be filled with a letter from Lad to his Father, a letter from Grandpa to his “Truants”, another letter from Lad and another, longer letter from Grandpa, all written in August of 1942.