HITTING MILWAUKEE APPROX. NOON THURSDAY STOP CAN YOU MEET ME AT CM&STP DEPOT STOP IF CAN DO—SWELL STOP IF NO CAN DO WIRE COLLECT STOP

Darling I got your swell present this afternoon, and don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you. Sitting here this evening I can’t find the words to express my thanks or show my appreciation, not only for the swell case, but for the many things you’ve done for this soldier in the last six months. And ironically enough, this Christmas, it must be with words alone that I express my appreciation.

Darling I got your swell box of candy today, and don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve a swell fella like you for a girl friend. I’ve got nothing to be more thankful for this year than the fact that I met you, and absolutely nothing to be less thankful for than having to be away from you.

I got your letter yesterday out here at our temporary (?) parking place and the middle of a swamp “somewhere in Louisiana”—and tho I wanted to answer it immediately I didn’t get the chance to write till now. When I saw your handwriting on the envelope yesterday I was more than a little hesitant about opening it, for I fully expected to find a brief note telling me what a heel I was an

Dear Bud, Am just waiting around for a new bunch of selectees to show up—. They are due in camp about 3:00 o’clock. Our company is being assigned about 75 of ‘em and what a time we’re going to have. The life down here isn’t so bad though, because we are permitted to lie around in bed every morning until 5:00 o’clock.

Got both your letters this past week, one on Monday and the other, day before yesterday, on Friday. Hon’, you must be psychic. Monday morning it poured cats, dogs, and little fishes; and Monday morning Pvt. L. Winsauer was put in charge of a detail which was to remove three G.D. tremendous tree stumps from the middle of our drill field.

Up to the time I got your last letter I was under the impression that you were going to be here this week instead of next—probably because you had written me before you knew you were coming South that your vacation was to be from the 14th to the 24th. What happened? Did you get an extension?

Wanted to get this letter in the mail by yesterday morning, but I haven’t had a minute’s time to write until now. Thursday night there was a practice blackout; last night the whole battalion had to listen to Sec. Stinson’s speech then watch a compulsory training movie; and this morning we had our weekly inspection—so no letter writing.

Dear Jeanne, I didn’t get your letter ’till this morning, as I left camp Saturday noon to go to Shreveport (About 120 miles away) and didn’t get back until late last night. Ten minutes after mailing my last letter to you I began to wonder if I perhaps had misinterpreted your words, and by the next morning I would have given just something to be able to have gotten it back.

Darling another week has passed and I’m in trouble trying to decide whether to regard the passing of time as — ”Swell, one month nearly completed,” or “Hell, eleven more months to go.” In either case it looks like one heck of a long time to December and our probable first furlough. This past week was a relatively easy one — that is, it wasn’t quite as tough as those which preceded it. (Something is wrong with my pen, so if you’ll bear with me I’ll finish this letter in pencil.)