Emily Winsauer

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"Believe it or not it was wild rabbit!" - February 28, 1943

Sgt. L A Winsauer
Div. Hq. Co. APO 253
Indiantown Gap M.R., Pa.

Miss Jean Johnson
Sheboygan, Wisconsin

Dearest Winifred,

Darling maybe I can’t tickle you for calling me names — much as I’d like to — but guess you know you can’t get at me either. Anyway, what’s wrong with “Arthur”? A goodly name if you ask me. Now “Winifred,” well ———yeh, “Looie” stinks too.

Thanks a million for the coffee — boy that really was a fancy package — and it was swell of your mother to send the cookies. We had a little session here at the dispensary last night and the coffee and cookies really hit the spot. The boys all send their thanks too — your wishing everybody luck was bad though — I lost a couple last night. We haven’t been playing much lately ‘cause no one has any money. This coming Tuesday is payday though and there’ll probably be some rugged games next week — ‘Course I’ll just be watching them. Uh, huh!

I’ve had a damn cold for the last couple of days so have been taking it pretty easy — didn’t got to mess this morning either — and don’t feel too good about it ‘cause I was tiredly from the darn game last night. Have you gone to confession yet? Boy, my next ones going to be a lulu. I’ll probably get a 25 mile hike for my penance.

What do you think we had for supper tonight? Believe it or not it was wild rabbit! I came over to the dispensary this afternoon at about 4:30 and here one of the C.W.s was skinning a rabbit. They had seen it from one of the dispensary windows and had chased it into a hole and dug it out. We got some flour and fat from the kitchen and cooked it over the good old sterilizer. Made some coffee too and had rabbit, bread and coffee for supper. It was good too — a little on the tough side maybe — but what the hell.

You say you suppose getting so much mail is getting too much for me. Darling you’re supposing all wrong — the more often I hear from you the better I’ll like it, and I don’t mean maybe. I still feel like a heel though, for not writing you more often.  Lt. Gordon (he’s our new officer) just was here with his wife and had Wells (he’s a driver) take her down to the bus station in the ambulance. They have an apartment in Harrisburg but she spent the day here at camp as Gordon was on duty. They sort of caught me with my pants down — just figuratively speaking, silly — I just had my shirt off ‘cause its been hot in the dispensary tonight and though it surer than heck didn’t bother me to meet her like that she acted as if she’d never seen anyone without a shirt — pardoned herself all over the lot for walking in on me like that. She’s a little Jewish chicken and must be at least ten years younger than Gordon. 

I just read your last letter over again — the one where you had your hair up and cold cream on your face, and you were so repulsive.  Yes, I suppose you were.  No, I mean, darling, how can you say such things. (Nasty ain’t I.)  Also — after we’re married we don’t want any friends for at least ten years — look how they’d always be barging in and spoiling things — if you know what I mean. And can I cook? I’m the best little cook you ever did see and I’ll bet I’d look just some ducky in a cute little pink apron — yeah, I’ll bet.