Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
14 November 1943
By the time "Call To Quarters" blew last night, I was in bed drowsing off. This morning I had intended getting an early start by getting up for breakfast but it wasn't until 9:30 that I dragged myself from bed and came down to work. I checked over the payroll and am now ready for a three to four hour job of copying it over. This afternoon, which isn't so far very far away, Erskine L. Cain and I plan to plan out the company show. Jimmy Snelsire is already cast as our Master of Ceremonies and another fellow has given us his okay to use him as an impersonator. Two fellows have indicated that if we can get several others to work with them, they will form a harmonica orchestra to play a few numbers. We are also trying to get Ray Gradler to present a number which would include the bugle calls in swing time.
Not longer than half an hour ago I received a telephone call. It was from Blumenfeld. Somehow I couldn't become very enthusiastic over his belated contact which even at this late date was made only with the convenience of a business matter. He claims extenuating circumstances which he can not mention over the telephone were responsible for his neglect and the same circumstances prevent him from making any definite arrangements as to coming out to our camp or for him to meet me when I happen to be in town.
He works six days of the week having Saturday off. He does contemplate coming to visit the 353rrd at his earliest convenience and will call me either on Friday or Saturday morning to let me know if he really will be coming.
While I had him on the line, I asked him if he knew a fellow by the name of Matcha. Yes, he did and Charles works three desks away from him. They must know each other rather well because Blumenfeld seemed to know just what Matcha had done in the States and described just what sort of fellow he is. Rather older than my type of friends usually are but a decent sort of chap. He is going to tell him that he knows me and that he spoke to me today. If the Matchas have mentioned to their Charles that I am out here too, he will know what Blumenfeld is talking about.
What Blumenfeld couldn't understand at first was that I knew his parents and family for so many years yet didn't know him. I explained that the fellow was a Regular Army man and on two occasions he had come home at which time I did not meet him. The one time I saw him walking across the alley coming to the house and the other time I saw the top of his garrison hat as he was walking out of the house with Charley Matcha. Those were in the days before I even dreamed of being in the Army and now both of us are here on the Island.
By the way, I had almost forgotten that today marks that first day of a new year in the Army. When you come right down to it, one year doesn't seem very long to a retrospective view. It is the day by day living which makes the waiting so tedious. Now if only the next two and a half years can knock themselves out that fast we can pick up where we left off. It really isn't 365 because out on this side of the world I have picked up those extra hours and right now it is still the 13th in Cicero. I suppose that in the days to come one year's military training will be compulsory for all American youths. It seems that you can live thru it though. By completing the first year, my morale doesn't exactly sink because I feel that I passed one of the milestones and that is so much behind me which I'll not have to live again and that last day seems to have been brought up that much closer.
The fellows are making a joke about this completion of one year's service since most of us are rounding it out during this coming week. Mersing completed his yesterday, and now we call John Edie a rookie because he will have to serve until the 17th. Another joke is to congratulate a fellow and wish him many more.
So-long, /s/ Roman Roman