Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
August 29, 1943

Dear Aunty Clara,
Sunday


Well, congratulations to myself. I woke up at 8:30 this morning with the feeling that I was going to be able to write a few letters. So far this morning I have written a letter to my Dad and now I am writing this one. Before the day is thru I expect to have a few letters piled up to await censoring during the week.

There has been no adverse news in the Daily Bulletin for quite some time although every once in a while there is no report of any definite action. This lull causes everyone to say "Why don't they do something." But it is heartening to see the continuous stream of good news day after day. If that keeps on long enough, the war is bound to be over in time.

I noticed that today's DB says the Yankees have virtually clinched the American League Flag race for the seventh time in eight years. That is a team what is a team. You can always depend on them to be in there fighting at the finish, middle, or beginning and that's what makes them the champions they are. I hope that the St. Louis Cardinals take the National League Title so that the Yanks can have a chance to vindicate themselves after dropping four straight games last year. You know, it still doesn't seem possible that the Yankees could have done something as awful as that. That was the time Gary Walroth cleaned the office out of all its extra betting money.

Our company has taken out a truck today for a pleasure trip of the island but when asked to come along, I thought that I would do better by staying in camp and writing a few letters. The Island Command seems to be considerate in that respect that it helps the soldier who wants to get around to see the different places on the island.

Lt. Podelwitz walked into the office while I was in the middle of writing the letter to my Dad and he started to say "Dear Aunty Clara". You see, whenever anyone sees me writing a letter they usually know it's to you and sort of kid me about writing so much. That is the way with the others too. If Kenagy, Company C Clark, is writing a letter, they call to him, "Dear Elinor" and so on for every fellow in the office. Lt. Podelwitz remarked that there I go telling you how busy I am yet every time he has walked in the office it is usually when nothing is doing.

Kenagy must have it bad because the other day when he was addressing an envelope to the Office of Dependency Benefits in Newark, New Jersey, he tacked on Clarinda, Iowa instead, his girlfriend's address. Now they have nicknamed the poor fellow, "Elinor."

Ever since I wrote you that letter about the name that they tag me with every once in a while, I have felt free to cut loose again and have been riding high wide and handsome with nicknames for the others. It seems John T. Edie is being called "Muscles" of late and Mersing is being tagged "Little Driscoll". There is another one floating around about me but it is an old timer --- "Romeo."

Now that all our headquarters tents look like little buildings with framework, the screening and the doors we are going to give them the ultra-rich Palm Beach look by fixing up corridors and canopies down the main walks with little branch lines jutting off into each tent entrance.

So far we have heard no word from Blumenfeld. I wonder if we ever will. He is now settled in town and has all the entertainment he needs right there instead of going out into the hinterland and into our Valley to see us.

From the looks of things two letters will be my most for this morning because in thirty minutes we will begin putting our faces down into our mess kits.

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman