July 25, ‘42
Dear Dad: –
As you probably have deducted, your oldest son let you down last week, completely. But, I have a good reason. (In the Army they do not accept an excuse, but a good reason will sometimes work). Last Thursday – that is a week ago – we were called together and told that commencing that evening we would start to move camp to our new location. We started, and finally have the place fully arranged and in passable condition. Until the camp was in this condition we would not be allowed to even leave the Co. area, so you can bet we all worked as long as there was light. Well, we finished Thursday, and then last night we went on a hike, making tonight the first day I’ve had a chance to write a letter. As luck would have it, I’ve been assigned to a detail for the evening. I’ll be through at midnight, but it will be late, and foolish I think, to start for Trumbull at that hour. However, it looks now as if I may be able to head for Trumbull next weekend, unless another duty presents itself before that time. Anyway, I’ve got my fingers crossed.
This new area to which we have moved is across the Parade Ground, upon which those new buildings are being erected, from the Service Club. Since there is grass around the tents it is a great deal nicer. But the mosquitoes are worse than ferocious. And they are certainly plentiful.
Tonight I’m C.Q. (Charge of Quarters) from 6 to 12, and have to carry a revolver. C.Q. is sort of an administrative job, and I take charge of the Co. in the absence of the First Sergeant. But I don’t like the job because there is very little to do, and too much time in which to do it. And to top things, the previously mentioned mosquitoes are raising Hell with me right now. Some of them raise welts a half inch or larger in dia. And they itch for hours afterwards.
I have three weeks of Cadre left and am now a senior member of the Co. This means that from now on I’m subject to duty as acting sergeant of the platoon. In fact, tomorrow I have that job until about noon when the Sergeant returns.
I’m still teaching and enjoying it more and more.
I received your last letter, a letter from Schick, Inc. One of the items was a shaving head. Did you ask them to do the work they suggested or did you eliminate the head?
Give my love to Aunt Betty and remember me to everybody.
The rest of the week will be filled with several short letters from Grandpa to his boys to the North and the South: Ced in Alaska, Lad in Aberdeen, Maryland, and Dan in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina.