Sept. 17, 1943. From Charlie to Charlotte (2)
While the world was at war, Charlie was missing Charlotte. In this rain-soaked letter, he writes with ink-stained fingers, a quick wit, and a tender heart, remembering a movie date, wondering about her health, and holding tight to the small rituals that made love feel close, even across the miles.
Sept. 17, 1943
Dearest Darling,
Rain! It looks as if the weather is going to be that way all day. It rains a bit and stops, pours and stops. Nice day for ducks, but who wants to be a duck!
Pen went dry and I had to get some ink. I got more on me than I got in the pen. Oh well, it will wash off.
Today our outfit was supposed to go down to the small boats for a drill. It looks as if the yeoman don’t get very much of that training. Certainly would like to know what it is all about anyway. It may come in handy sometime.
We have a movie of some kind every night. Last night we had an educational picture. Until we get busy I can take in the movies at night because I do my letter writing during the day. Tonight “Holiday Inn” is showing. If it rains we will move into the drill hall. Don’t think I’ll go tonight since I saw it. Wasn’t that the picture we saw the first time we went out together? It was one of the first two or three times we were together. I’ll probably turn in early tonight, that is, earlier than usual. The movies are usually over by 9:30 and most of the time by 9:00.
I am really expecting a letter from you today so I’m not going to read the envelope before the afternoon mail call. Been pestering the fellow in charge of the mail so much that he said if I didn’t get a letter he would write one to me. If I don’t get one soon I won’t be able to write much to you. I am running out of things to write! So don’t be surprised if I write something that doesn’t make sense.
I should be getting a few letters soon. I’ve written to everyone and his brother. At the present time I owe no letters.
Honey, how is your throat? Has it bothered you very much lately? Don’t suppose you have gone to the dentist. You said it would be some time before you could get an appointment.
Hope everything is O.K. and you are feeling in the finest of condition. As far as health goes I am OK. Except for a heartache I feel swell. Honey, you don’t know how much I miss you.
Speaking of heart reminds me of something. Upon being assigned to this outfit we had to go to the “sick bay” and have a physical examination. The doc was just about through with the examination except for using the stethoscope to listen to my heart. He had the hardest time finding it. I had a notion to tell him that I had lost my heart but thought he might not appreciate it. So—I kept quiet. (Wow!)
Honey, let’s see how good you are at figuring out puzzles. You know like I told you I would not. Of course, it was your suggestion or idea! Shall we start now?
From time to time I may give you a few hints. Right now there are none to be given. As I am still in the same place, I can’t tell where I am going. No, Honey, I don’t intend leaving for a few months. Crazy paragraph, isn’t it? Each sentence gets worse.
Oh well, it gives you an idea. Let me know how you made out. Don’t take this last paragraph seriously, it is just a test. Hope when the real McCoy comes that I can think of something that will make sense!
Guess I can finish this letter now. No, Honey, I didn’t get a letter yet. Don’t know what is wrong. Must be the mail service. Hoping I get one tomorrow. Honey, I don’t know of any more to write now except I miss you and love you dearly.
Well, drop this in the mail box on my way to chow tonight.
I love you.
XXXX many more
All my love & kisses for you alone,
Charlie