Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/p SF Cal
14 April 1945

Before I forget to tell you for the second day in a row, I'll tell you right now that further word came on the Class F Allowance and you have been named a Class B dependent which means chief support but not substantial and you should receive $37 a month from the government although I can't see how come they didn't give you $50 a month. Nevertheless, that is what it is. It is funny though how one communication comes straight to me at this address and then a second one will come through the old outfit. They must have my address in two different places and different both times.

Two of your V-mail letters arrived today dated the 3rd and 4th but I will not be able to answer them since I took them down to the barracks with me and left them there on the shelf when I changed shirts.

Incidentally, I was the Sergeant of the Show Guard this evening and had to get all spruced up in my best clothes, hat, leggings and cartridge belt procedure the red arm bands for myself and my four men plus the Billy clubs for all of us. We had it pretty good because Lt. Ballensinger was the Officer of the Day and he is a regular fellow and not GI. You see, some of officers decide to add their interpretations to the regulations and have us do things that way whereas Lt. Ballensinger does what the orders tell him to do and doesn't tinker around by adding to them.

There was one last minute order which I didn't care particularly for and that was to keep the colored fellows out of the white section. It wasn't put as bluntly as that but that is what it amounts to for they are the only visitors we have at our show and prior to show time they fill up the visitors section but move over to our section when the show begins. That is if there is room for them. You see our seats are directly in line with the screen while the visitors have the side seats which isn't very good, especially when a basketball game is going on down in the court and the bright lights distracts a person. In any other outfits they do the same thing, if there are empty seats in the organizations seats when the show begins, visitors are welcome to have them. And you wouldn't be any the wiser here if the guests weren't colored and because of the fact that we should want to keep them in their seats, it seems like discrimination to me. Of course, those orders aren't a matter of policy or anything like that. Someone just gets the idea and had it done without consulting anyone else.

The show this evening was "Dark Waters" with Merle Oberon, Franchot Tone, Thomas Mitchell, John Qualen and Fay Bainter. Personally, I thought it stunk and quite a few fellows agreed with me. Tomorrow night we have a better show, "Winged Victory."

The PX is finally producing the ice cream which has been long awaited. They had the machine but no stuff to sell. They sell two dips of ice cream for a nickel in a big cardboard cup. In fact, there is enough room left in the cup after the ice cream is in to fill it up with a cold coke (which just about everybody is doing) and the result is an excellent drink. Kerwin goes around saying "Give a man ice cream and a coke and he'll stay in the army for thirty years." He says that every time he sees the contented faces around him eating the combination refreshment.

By the way, my face is badly bruised or at least my right eye is. So help me this is my story. This morning I was delivering the mail in the next door office and I come out sorting mine and Bill Grauel's when what do you know I begin seeing stars. I ran into part of the building. They fixed it up yesterday so that they can remove the side of the wall and lift it like an awning. Well, not thinking about anything jutting out from the building that way, I just didn't expect to run into anything while looking down at the letters in my hand. I couldn't help but sort of cry out, "Oww" or some such because it was a regular blow. For a few seconds I was stunned but then carried on. An hour later the area around the eyebrow and eyelid was all swollen up with three cuts in it and fellows would ask and tell me, "How did that happen, I don't believe it." Or, "What were you doing Klick, talking when you should have been listening?"

Oh, oh the letter writing has met a half hour bog as the Corporal of the Guard has been telling me some of his tales. He was in on some of the invasions in the Aleutians. It is not unusual these days to get fellows in the outfit that have been around for the war has been going on for a good while now and there is a constant shuffling and reshuffling of men going on and sooner or later some of them end up here.

That German war should be ending soon. My goodness, the Russians and Allies are practically touching each other on a hundred mile front on both sides of Berlin and Patton is cutting off all the escape routes to the Bavarian hideouts and you would think they would surrender.

I'm coming up to the office tomorrow as CQ but I am making no promises on the letter writing deal. It doesn't pay to plan ahead on that because the plans seem to invariably pan out wrong. But I will try to take advantage of every opportunity.

You know, Aunty Clara, I guess my basic training in staying up late at night wasting time with George Prokopec is the reason I keep staying up late at night nowadays. It was with George and the powerful talking we used to do that I first began staying out to twelve and after just doing nothing and then I used to come in and do homework till even a later hour. Now, it seems that even though I try to get to bed by eleven, I may do alright for a bit then sure as anything, it is midnight or thereafter. Tonight I began typing at quarter to eleven but with all the interruptions of talking, the time has managed to slip by until it is twelve-thirty right now.

There wasn't much news today outside of the fact that the morning went along fairly smooth and then after the Orientation Class at one o'clock to two, I slept the afternoon away, waking up just in time to hear the five o'clock news and go to chow.

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman