July 28, 1944
Received your most welcomed letter yesterday.
I wrote the first letter to you the other day but didn’t know your address. I forgot to ask El (Eleanor Kintop, Dave’s girlfriend). So, now you’ll get two. I put them both in separate envelopes so you get more mail.
Don’t feel bad about El not writing. She’s still thinking of you anyway. She doesn’t do much of anything since she started to work. That goes for me too. Jean (Kintop, Eleanor’s sister) has been in Pa. For 3 weeks so El has had to do her washing and ironing herself. Knowing El like we do you can really understand why you haven’t had a letter. Don’t be too hard on her. She said today she wrote you 2 fat ones.
I’m writing this at a Grange meeting. There making bread upstairs, a demonstration. And it is hot. Another girl and I are writing letters downstairs here. El didn’t come tonight as she had to do some washing and ironing. Boy, is she having it tough without Jean.
I gave the Red Cross a pint of my blood Tuesday. Nothing to it. I’d like to go again.
I didn’t mind you “crying” on my shoulder at all. Don’t compare yourself to Bob *, as in your case, it’s different. His letters are getting a little better now. I feel like the bad girl you read about in books or see in movies. I guess some of the kids in this town think I’m an awful heel. Write again when you get a chance. Don’t worry about El. Everything is all right.
* – Editor’s Note: It is possible that this refers to Bob Jennings, a friend of Dave’s, who wrote to Dave a few weeks back about the two of them being lucky to have “such swell girlfriends”. From the sound of this, Doris may have broken up with Bob.
Tomorrow I’ll begin posting a week of letters from 1944. All five of Grandpa’s sons, from my twenty-eight year old father, Lad, to Dave, the youngest, are all helping the war effort in one way or another.