Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
August 26, 1943

I finally wrote a V-mail to Bob Hesser. It isn't really a letter but just a note saying that I am still living and that I hope to write him a letter in the near future. I came to the conclusion that just that little bit is better than a permanent postponing the real letter until such a time in the indefinite future that I can get around to it.

Maybe it was the picture of my Dad in the last war with all that junk piled beneath his army cot or maybe it is just a carry over of my habit of placing everything in boxes, but whatever it is, I believe that I have my articles and cot in as neat order as any soldier in the regiment. But to offset the fairly decent set up I have, it seems that others just junk things around and make a good attempt at imitating my Dad's array of paraphernalia. I'll never forget my dresser at home which would be spick and span inside with every book and box in its proper place yet the top of it would be piled high with things thrown there in a hurry. Then every so often I would clean up the mess and start all over again piling it up. That doesn't happen now excepting for one or two items I collect and the way I dispose of them is by placing them underneath one of my blankets during the daytime to keep them out of sight. One of these curios is the paper the books came wrapped in. Another is the wrapper for the watch which is just filled with stamps which I know I will only end up by throwing away but for the time being I am hanging on to it.

This morning Blumenfeld's articles were being moved out in preparation for his departure to town.

The funniest thing happened to Larry and the group of fellows he was working with yesterday. I guess they didn't think it funny at the time, though. They had been working all by themselves and a truck was supposed to pick them up at quitting time and bring them back to the campsite. Well, quitting time came around but no truck. The weather wasn't the best and it wasn't comfortable waiting, but they waited anyway and waited and waited. Meanwhile we were all wondering what had happened to Larry and the rest of the fellows. It ended up that a truck had never been sent out to pick them up and when it finally was sent out it was almost two hours later than scheduled.

That reminds me of the story Jack tells me about his adventures during the army maneuvers which he took place in, a few years back. He had been stationed with another fellow as guards at an intersection. The outfit passed on and completely forgot about Molyneaux and his buddy. Three and a half days passed before they remembered where they had left him. He says he was lucky because every day something like that happened and some fellows would be left on guard for a week at a time completely forgotten by their organization.

There is one lucky fellow in our regiment. He is going back to the States as an Officer Candidate. He is a crack engineer and a Master Sergeant. If anyone is worth becoming an officer it is he. He has that air about him which commands respect and makes a person willingly follow his leadership and do good work for. That is the opinion of almost anyone who has ever come into contact with him. The ironic part about the situation however is that the men over 38 have been given the opportunity to be released again: he had reapplied but this will keep him in the army now.

I didn't rewind the film last night after coming in so late so I will have to go up to the projection room to fix it up and make the necessary adjustments for this evening's show. I believe that Lt Yantis will run the machine this evening.

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman