Dear Aunty Clara,

Saturday

Two letters written to you were all that I managed to finish yesterday although I certainly had the time to write many more than that. For one thing, Andy Mathis and I find that we can while away a considerable amount of time talking about the great big city of Chicago. You know by now that he lives in the Yards districts somewhere around 52nd and May Street so we talk about anything and everything between Cicero Avenue (West), 22nd Street (North), 63rd St (South) and State Street on the East.

About nine o'clock or thereabouts, Lewis and Bill Grauel came back from the show and all of us began cleaning up for the inspection today. By ten o'clock the office was in fairly good shape and we immediately set up a barricade of chairs so that no one could enter beyond the 1st desk where the Corporal of the Guard could stay during the night. Instead of writing more letters at that time, I took out a couple of Daily Newses and read them through until a little after eleven o'clock.

It seems that there are only two times to get any sleep in the barracks. One is during the night time between the hours of eleven o'clock and five-thirty in the morning. The other time is right after work by just laying on the cot and falling asleep until such time as you wake up. The idea of going to bed early is no good at all for from nine to eleven the barracks are in an uproar with lights, talking and noise.

This morning we had to clean up our place for the anticipated inspection by the Colonel but it never did come off; so that makes three out of the last three times that we were prepared and the old boy didn't show up. One of these days he is just going to walk around the areas on a sneak inspection.

Here is a side note on "little pet peeves." All morning long one little fly has been pestering the life out of me. It won't buzz around in front of me where I can see him and possibly catch him but keeps landing on the back of my head, ear, or neck. Just chasing him off doesn't do a bit of good because he flies away just as long as the hand is there and he is right back again. Some afternoons Jack is the victim of these persistent flies and it is enough to get a fellow good and sore the way they have the knack of being so obnoxious.

Today was a great day in the battalion as far as letters were concerned. One big sack full of mail arrived which took Jack, Lynd and myself quite some time so sort out. I thought sure I might possibly get a regular mail envelope out of the deal but was quite satisfied when I did receive three V-mails. Two were from you dated the 5th and 6th of July. The third was from Mrs. B. Lejcar Jr. I'm sure glad that she wrote for now that will prompt me to answer immediately seeing as how I was in the mood to drop her a line anyway.

Gee, our house sure has fallen down on the milk drinking if it has reached a point where you were only buying two quarts each week and not even finishing off that little bit. Those were the good old days when we used to buy that big gallon jug and then run short before the next delivery. Powdered milk or not, I'll still enjoy those nice cool glasses of milk every day for the rest of my life after this war is over. Milk is one of the most tasty and nutritious drinks a person can have.

By the way, Pat wouldn't be there at the Normandie Restaurant on a Monday evening. From what she told me in her letters, I gathered it is only on Sunday's that she helps out. The way she has been going along without getting a real job this summer yet, I'm wondering if she is going to do so after all.

Tonight I'll have to write to both Pat and my married woman correspondent, Dolores. And a lot of other letters too.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman