Description
#31 Somewhere in the Mariannas Thursday Oct. 26 6:45 pm (same day 1:45 a.m. your time - to find [out?] subtract 7 hours from yours and advance a day) Darling, Well-this is it, at least for the time being. You would be most interested in the setup here and I regret that I am prohibited from describing most of the things I’d like to. I can tell you that there are women and children here (I can hear a hundred children's voices from where I sit) and that the latter are one of the most conspicuous features of the place - all ages, but little ones seeming to predominate. I have talked at some length with a couple of them, and also listened in on or joined in conversation with various adults, in the course of following certain officers in their accustomed rounds, just to get acquainted with what goes on here. Among those officers are - A certain Lt. (jg) Charles Frankel; A Lt. [Keitzy?] Etter; A Lt (jg) Evan Davis (you will remember having dinner with him and his wife in Boulder); One Lt. Riley Ewing, whom we succeeded in Apt. 2E at 419 W. 119th. Incidentally, he's a swell guy; was an agricultural expert on Hawaii during civil life before the war. Are you duly impressed with the vagaries of fate or fortune? You should have seen Charley's face when he was [pg 2] called to the office where I checked in, after I inquired about him! (“Well, I'll be god damned…”) Evan Davis, reading a letter from home in nearby quarters, popped out on hearing and recognizing my voice and he too was very much surprised. They broke out with a drink and we sat around for a short while rehashing old times and commenting on the coincidence (I knew about it before I arrived, but of course they didn't) and I was introduced to a number of their colleagues, as well as seizing on the opportunity to acquaint the rest of the men I came with them. Mail takes from 4-10 (usually about 6) days to get here from the coast and is a little more regular going to you than coming here, in this direction it [tends?] to bunch up. Have been thoroly absorbed in this place and its many interesting activities ever since we arrived. (The fact that we flew out is all I can tell you about the trip now, except that I enjoyed it and didn't get much sleep). Tonight I'm very tired and shall leave you presently to turn in - comforted by the crying of some baby who must be just about Wendy's age. I love you so much darling - this space doesn't seem to matter so very much to me, with the exceptions that I can't phone you til I get back (which certainly won't be before Christmas) and that there will be a temporary lag in our mail - but that won't be for long. Warren Henry [?] has a very expressive youngster (boy) a month or so older than Wendy and we've enjoyed comparing snapshots.
