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

It is quarter to nine and the first time I have been in the office this evening. How did I squander away so much time? Like this. First I wanted to listen to the news broadcast at six o'clock so I stayed in the tent starting about a quarter after five. During that wait I picked up a crossword puzzle and started working it besides entertaining Larry Isaacson who had come into the tent and talking with John T. Before I could break away from the conversation and the puzzle it was almost quarter past six and I just heard the tail end of the program. I returned to the tent and finished the crossword but before I finished it the tent was filled with Larry, Edie, and Mersing. We just talked and talked and talked. Then Burkard came in with some pictures and that took more time talking about his farm etcetera. It was seven-thirty and we decided that it was high time to take our shower. All in all that little trip took us an hour.

We didn't bring our head nets this evening so we are all slapping down the mosquitoes as they attack. When there aren't many around you can do that.

Larry keeps complaining to me about the hard the army cots but I find that I sleep rather well on them. He keeps talking about inner spring mattress and the like but I doubt if I could get a good nights sleep on those extra soft beds. Remember how you used to ask me how in the world I could ever sleep on my hard mattress? Yet when I would occasionally fall asleep on the cot, that was twice as hard and I never did mind it. The only thing which bothers me a little bit to this day is the restricted space afforded by the cot. It has long been my custom to change position just by rolling over to the other side of the bed. Now I have to twist myself around and stay in the same place. It is remarkable though how the covers are still on me in the morning and even tucked in as they were the night before.

The bugler just blew my favorite bugle call of tattoo. He is one of the newer buglers who took up the instrument since coming to this island and he has advanced rather well to the point where he doesn't squeak it out any more. Zamora, however, really can sound off with a tremulous note. He puts that wavering or whatever it is in all his calls and they just can't be duplicated by any of the other buglers. While Ray Gradler could play the things perfectly when he first hit Camp White and was able to sound off with the swing version, he could never come close to Zamora's mastery over the melody of the calls.

My conscience will not let me start reading the book until I have answered all my letters so perhaps that motive will spur me on to the point where they will all be answered by the end of the week. I'm glad you haven't told Mrs. Reed or Myrtle about my receiving the candy. Now, knowing that I haven't yet received your package which was sent out but a few days later, it will seem plausible that I just received them recently.

It seems in every third or fourth movie we have seen recently has been a build up of the days preceding the 1st World War and then our entry into it and a few shots of the war itself followed by a picture of the Armistice. Those war scenes get me mad just because it makes me think of all the futility of that War and what people will think of this one twenty-five years later. But the Armistice scene coming so quickly on the heels of the war scenes is almost comic and usually evokes an ironic laugh from the audience --- "As if it were as easy as all that".

Say, did that smear of fifteen letters beat all records for mail for you? And did you notice that the Times printed the picture of a Wac who had contributed a gallon of blood to the Red Cross. Why didn't they get your picture or was just because she was a Wac?

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman