February 21, 1943

Dear Avis,

If the writing is a little different, and a little worse than usual, it's because I'm trying to write this so called letter with a pair of white gloves on. Don't get me wrong now. I'm not being punished. I'm executing the duty's of the barrack guard. This, my dear, happens to be the best job us underdogs can get. Each barracks has a man sitting at a desk near the front door. He wears white gloves and one of those sharp hats with the visor. Your only duty is to call attention if a commissioned officer walks in. I am told that this is the only free time we will have and the only time we'll have to write letters. The chief trouble is that this will probably be the first and last time I'll get this graft job.

All the days are alike down here. We have classes, drill calisthenics, lectures and hit all formations. I know this doesn't sound like me but I don't seem to mind it in the least. I enjoy watching all the underclassmen (That's me too) "Pop To". That means to come to an exaggerated position of attention.

Loads of fun and Lots of Love As ever

"The Bostonite"

P.S. That's what they call me down here. They love to hear me talk while they sit around and laugh at me.