Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 75
c/p SF Cal
9 June 1945

Dear Aunty Clara,
Saturday


No telling this was a Saturday with an all day work day. That was, at least during the daytime, now during the evening we at least have had the Regular Saturday Night Hit Parade. Incidentally, the Hit Parade cost me money tonight. Just before they were ready to play the three top tunes of the week, Andy Mathis said one peso would be getting me three pesos if I bet against him on "Accentuate The Positive" being number one. With those odds, how could I resist? I bet that it would not be tops and probably some new song like "Candy" would be on it (we had heard Candy was at the top previous to this although our Hit Parade programs are quite a bit late). Anyhow, to make the story short and sweet, I lost my single peso and am broke again.

I'm writing this letter quite late at night, after ten o'clock because for one thing, we again had to go to one of the companies to take care of the Readjustment Rating cards and that meant a late shower. After the shower Lewis suggested looking over parts of the monastery and then searching the caves. We did just that but it was an uneventful trip for one of the caves twisted around and led out one of the other caves. It was just a tunnel through a section of the hill on which the monastery stands. A third cave we did not particularly care to venture too far into and the fourth, with the best possibilities for turning into a real find was dead end by an avalanche of earth brought down by heavy equipment which had worked overhead during the week. In that fourth cave were evidences of the monastery for there were cement foundations and rock ledges which were used for something or other at some long off time.

We did find another new cave on the other side of the hill but it was almost completely covered with debris so we did not venture inside of it. However, that just about eliminates the possibility of getting into the hidden room underneath the monastery via the cave and tunnel route so we will have to concentrate on the entrance which enters the underground from just outside the monastery wall in the grounds. I tried to look down into it with a flashlight today but it was deeper than my flashlight could shine so I didn't see anything new.

I didn't feel very good all day long. Tired out, disgusted and ambitionless. I guess the jolt of finding out that my 54 points isn't going to get me home before the end of the war coupled with the termination of the furlough plan has got me down. In fact for the first time since first coming into this army I'm getting homesick. I think that I too had it in the back of my mind that this was the furlough year and the disappointment is rather hard to take coming the way it did without leaving any hope for the future.

All day long, right in the middle of my work I'll think of the oddest things like what is the next store to Kobzina Furniture towards 58th Avenue, or how nice it is to ride on a bike out to the Scottish Old People's Home along the 23rd St - Riverside drive route. Or I'll try to picture the stores along our block in 22nd Street. And then of waiting for Aunty Florence on a Saturday night while looking at the map of the city. And it goes on and on like that all day long. I'm almost working myself into a state that I'll be needing a furlough. In fact, it wouldn't hurt to try before I really get into a state.

The reason why I began my letters late this evening is also because of the fact that I've made up a little index system for my correspondents with pertinent information on the card relative to their address and when I wrote to them last. For instance on Pat's card I have written her name and address and then a 1- Ltr answered aboard boat (Picture enclose) 2- Sent Change of Address form to. And so it goes for about two dozen cards. Now I can check up on who I haven't written and when I ought to send out a tracer letter in case an answer is not forthcoming after a reasonable length of time. I also make a note or will make a note of several of the things I mention in the letter so when I write again to a person about a month later, I'll be in less danger of repeating myself. I did not write any letters tonight. That occupied most of my letter writing time.

O yes, already I've discovered quite a few people I said I was going to send my new address to and I've overlooked doing so. Naturally I'll not get letters from them until I do for I had said I would send it to them when I landed and that they should no longer send any mail to Guadalcanal.

There was no mail again today and that is just another something to keep my usually buoyant spirits at a low ebb. In addition to that, our PX which was to open up today at two o'clock, instead had to ship every bit of stock back to the warehouse. You see, we stocked up well on beer, coke and cigarettes before leaving the Canal. We expected to be able to open up for business immediately upon hitting this island. However, instead of opening up the PX, they waited around to find out what procedure was being followed on this island and that spoiled everything for by asking that question we found out the policy here is not to allow things to be brought in from other bases and anything we bring has to be turned in the warehouse and then we have to redraw only what is rationed to us. Col Shubat almost had it okayed to dispense with that but it was no soap and now our PX hasn't a single item in stock - just nothing!

I'll just write these two pages this evening because it is now after eleven o'clock and high time I be getting to bed. We had the usual tea this evening coupled with the can of jam I saved from the ten in one rations and a couple slices of toast. It was okay but we could have used a whole loaf of bread for we still have half a can of jam left. There is no way of saving the jam because once a can is opened, it stays opened.

This office is a lonely place at night and the switchboard operator has to remain here the entire night through although the guard sometimes keeps him company just as they did back on the Canal. We were scaring the wits out of Fricke by telling him that in the middle of the night the organ would begin playing in the inner court where the Chaplain has set up his headquarters and it would be the Ghost of the Monastery at her sinister business.

We call it a her now because the monastery was dedicated to a she.

So-long,   /s/ Roman   Roman