Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/o PM SF Cal
6 September 1944

Dear Aunty Clara,
Wednesday


We sat in the pouring rain to see Danny Kaye in "Up In Arms" and weren't disappointed in it. Have you seen it yet? This Danny Kaye fellow is a male Betty Hutton with all the same crazy motions and nonsense. The picture is photographed in a fantastic Technicolor, so rich that it looks like something out of Esquire magazine --- and, incidentally, the girls in the picture appear as if they were from Esquire's models too. There was one part in which Danny Kaye dreams that he is a purple flash and it is the perfect blend of coloring, characters, costumes, song and everything to go along with the jitterbugging and jive talk. You will agree with me when you see it. One of the best cracks of the film was when two soldiers are talking it over and the one says (about the stuff that is going on in the picture) "They never had anything like this in the last war" and the second soldier says, "Yeah, and they don't have it in this war either!"

Well, right after finishing this afternoon's letter to you, Lt Suiter walked in and signed the letter on the Family Allowance and inside five minutes it was in the United States mails. I even put an air mail stamp on the war department envelope so that when it hits Frisco it will still continue to go by air across the continent; therefore, by the 20th of the month, you should receive a check from the ODB or some sort of communication.

Cooley is back in the 1st Sergeancy and, running true to form, he has been breaking precedent again and has revamped the Show Guard by making Sergeants the Corporal of the Guard and Corporals the Privates of the guard. What that means to me is that one of these nights I'll tell you of my pulling show guard. I narrowly missed it the week I was promoted for Cooley was trying to get me on one more time. You will, of course, recall the time --- the only time for that matter --- when I was the Corporal of the Show Guard in New Caledonia and my Privates were Mersing, Edie and Burkard (Goldbricks Incorporated they called us that time).

Did I tell you that I received a V-mail dated the 25th this morning and then in the afternoon I received one dated the 25th and a letter from the Michalaks. That last letter is a relief to get for now I can answer them and mention DotnEd in their letter without sending Dorothy an answer. Did they name those Casablanca hats from the one Ingrid Bergman wore in the street scene of the picture of the same name? Hey, wait a second, I have no inferiority complex about my letters to Pat, it is just that without knowing the person too well, I have to be more careful and when I find that I was too hasty, I don't like the letter so much. No kidding, Aunty Clara, I practically went into hysterics when you told me about your dream of the house being so cold that the water in the toilet bowl froze. (Does it look funny to you too --- in print).

My back log of letters is now tremendous and it is my intention to devote this coming Sunday to another big splurge. I want to get up for breakfast and then type on straight thru the day until every last letter is written and mailed.

Here I didn't talk too much about the show and things so that I'd have plenty of space to tell about all the things that have been happening, yet I've seemed to reach this point and am at an end to my conversation. It is after ten o'clock too and we were all waiting expectantly to listen to important news over the radio at ten o'clock but because of static in the air, the reception from Frisco wasn't so good and they gave a summary of the news from Radio City Guadalcanal instead. Someone had said the Allies had struck into Germany itself.

The Atabrine Cocktail Hour Radio Program featured a new one today when they took us to the Black Beetlenut Room just 7,000 miles from the Sunny Shores of California.

I think I'll buzz down to the barracks and read a This Week just before falling asleep and at the same time sip one of the free cokes we received today.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman