Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
August 16, 1943
Dear Aunty Clara,
It is 7:30 in the evening right now and I am in the mood to write. Just how far I will get and how much I will accomplish is a matter for conjecture. I did not receive any mail from you today although I did receive two letters. One was a V-mail from Ray and the other one was a birthday card from Auntie Lillie and Uncle Leo with a dollar bill enclosed in it. I now have little short of three dollars cash on hand and it is the middle of the month. I think I will now have enough to get by on for the remaining portion of August.
The V-mail must be accumulating along the line because today is the 16th and the last letter I received from you was written August 3rd. This is the first time any serious breakdown in the delivery of the mail to me has occurred. Everyone else has received letters dated anywhere from the 3rd to the 8th. My first thought was that something had happened and you couldn't write but I waived that thought from my mind because I know that if anything did happen someone would send a V-mail out to me immediately telling me so. Therefore the only possible explanation is that the mail is not being delivered as promptly as before.
I tried to carry out my plan of typing up the pamphlet on insurance but it is so gosh awful long that I have given it up as a hopeless case. Instead of that I believe I will have to look around for an extra copy of the booklet and send it to you intact. Quite a number of fellows are beginning to investigate the possibility of converting the policy to their own advantage. The only thing is that they figure in case they should actually die while they are in the army, they will have thrown away a lot of good money into a more expensive insurance policy which pays off the same amount to the beneficiary as the cheaper one. One solution to that problem is to reserve so much of your funds each month to make up the difference in premiums between the present cheap insurance and the more expensive policy and when the war is over it is possible to pay up that difference from the effective date of the cheaper policy. In other words I could put aside $15 a month to make up the difference between the two premiums. While I am in the Army I will be insured for the maximum amount for the cheapest premium but when I see we are coming home in one piece, I can save all the money I have put into the policy to date by paying the additional $15 for every month since November 1942.
In addition to my many and varied accomplishments I have added one more talent. (Ahem, sounds like bragging, doesn't it?) Anyway, I am now a composer. I sat down at the piano in the big tent and began thumping away for almost an hour. At the end of that time I could play the first four lines of "For Me and My Gal" and the first line to "You'd Be So Nice to Come Home To". Incidentally, the picture with the title of the first mentioned song is now on the island and we may get the opportunity to see it. You and Aunty Florence told me that to get the real benefit from the song you have to see Gene Kelly and Judy Garland as they sing it.
The sad news which Ray tells me is that his deferment has been rejected and that on August 14 he was to report for his 2nd blood test. That would be unfortunate to have him leave for the army just after his child is born. I thought they had just about stopped drafting anyone but the younger fellows as they grow up and fellows who have their classification change because of some definite reason.
You know, these campaign hats (from now on to be known under the name of service hats) are to be worn at all times with our fatigue outfits and the old headgear is to be discarded. These service hats are the cat's meow but, frankly, they look too good for our everyday uniform. It is like wearing your Sunday hat with your toss-around-in clothes. Although just as the garrison hat made an enlisted man appear like an officer, these hats produce the same effect.
So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman