February 21, 1944

Dear Mom,

Your dreaming must have been due to the fact that I cut my hand but on the other hand, we're due to be shipped back to Tallahassee within the next few weeks, from there nobody knows. I must say though that it's about time I'm getting into this fight, after all it's over three years since I've been in the service and the war can't be won on this side of the fence. You won't have any worries with the superior fighter ships we have today, it's almost a one sided battle.

If perhaps I do by chance get shipped in the near future, I'll try me best to call home, but one doesn't always get the chance.

My idea is not to worry about a thing, not even after it comes, because worry leads to a no good end. Statistics show that 75% of the men shot down in combat are married men with a home and families to take care of. I knew that staying single would pay off some day.

The hand is pretty well healed now. It looks like there will be a small scar. You must be saying "he's just careless that's all". As long as me carelessness is not taking it out of me on the ground, it's OK by me because he who's careless in the air never lives to tell about it.

The days have been beautiful down here. The warm sunshine, the cool breezes and the mild, starlit nights almost makes it romantic but no women. Thank God!

I'm still flying a lot more then the rest of the boys, trying to get caught up on my back time. My aerial gunnery has improved a few hundred percent. Yesterday I hit the target forty two times with two hundred bullets. We're only required to hit it five tiles out of two hundred. It's all deflection shooting. By that I mean you never fire point blank at the target, it's always at an angle. It's surprising how hard it is to hit when you're traveling anywhere from 200 to 300 miles per hour with the target going at a good rate of speed also.

Loads of Love & Lots of Kisses to you and to All As Ever,

Al