January 3, 1943

I was classified as a pilot yesterday. As you know, none of us were certain that we were going to be until we got through our classification test. I chose pilot as my first choice. Rumor has is that we leave the twelfth of this month for Kelly field, that's across the road, to start our pre-flight training. I hope so because now that I'm classified, I'm eligible for guard and KP until we leave this post. As fate would have it I had KP today, which by the way is Sunday. It wasn't bad, they assigned everybody to a special job which numbers about forty. That is, everybody but me. I guess it must be a good life I live. I just floated around the kitchen doing nothing but eating and dodging the Mess Sergeant. He couldn't keep track of me. There were so many of us. The Mess Hall is huge. We fed about 5,000 at each meal. And that ain't hay.

You know "Whity", well he was classified as a pilot today. Here's hoping we both go to the same field.

What should I fly "Mom"? A one motored pursuit ship? A four motored bomber? Or perhaps more my speed a "Kite". About forty percent of the pilots are washing out. That is they don't make the grade, so keep your fingers crossed for at least seven months.

Oh my gosh, I almost forgot to tell you. I got gigged. This is I had to walk around the block for 2 hours just for having a shirt sleeve unbuttoned. I wouldn't mind if I had the shirt on, but it was hanging in my locker. It isn't half bad walking, all together there was seventy of us. We have to do this in our spare time. I'm still six hours up on them. I skipped drill three times and P.T. which designates physical therapy training four times. After all they should know I have to go into these things slow and easy.

I'm soft as a grape. I go out and play football of my own free will. I think I'll write to Charles Atlas.

P.S. did Shirley write to Beatrice Fairfax yet?

Al