March 23, 1945
March 23, 1945
Dear Shirley,
I Ma'am am a tired soldier. I guess I ain't the moving picture type. In the movies the flyer comes down from his mission with his hair combed, his face cleaned, and his pants smartly pressed. When I landed tonight, I was dirty, greasy, smelly, rumpled and dog tired. We were out on a sea search mission. A C-54 crashed in the ocean and we were out looking for survivors. We flew for 8 hours and must have covered 1500 miles. We found pieces of the plane scattered all over but we didn't see any signs of a dinghy or Mae West. I guess it's T.S. for another crew.
They don't kid about flying around here. I must have traveled 20,000 miles since you left. We fly from Northern Alabama to Cuba and from the Eastern most Bahamas to Louisiana. I had a simulated bomb run at the Duke's at Nassau. Sure could have shocked Wallis If I'd have had a bomb. I'm getting to be a pretty good navigator. I can fly for eight hours without getting lost (sometimes).
This month has been sort of rough financially. That's why I haven't sent eddie's sailor hat and allowance. That's also why I'll just be able to send you a very mushy letter for Easter. I'm pretty well cleared up now and I'll show a profit next payday. I'll send the stuff then. I wanted you to know that I haven't forgotten. Which brings me to my story -- To save fifty cents I decided to wash and Iron a pair of suntans. Early sunday morning I scrubbed vigorously and got the damned things clean. Sunday afternoon they were dry so I ironed. I worked and worked and worked. It was hard because there weren't any lights in the barrack and I had a hard time seeing. Finally after about two hours I was finished. Wanta buy a pair of scorched suntans cheap? As an ironer I am a miserable flop. Oh well I needed shoe rags anyway.
I suppose you are just about out of patience with me now. O.K. toots come on down. I'll do everything but slug the General to stay here. You arrange for the vacation and train and I'll fix things at this end. I should have said all of this in the first letter, but I was afraid your vacation might be spoiled and 52 weeks is an awful long time to wait for another one. Gee honey, it'll be super swell if it works out. Let's not do any of the old things (except one) (heh heh). or go to any of the old places. Everything new! Miami, Miami Beach, Ft. Lauterdale, Holly wood, and any place else that can be reached. You can absorb enough sunshine to last all year. I've found out how to get to the Cypress gardens. We'll see the indians and the alligators. Golly I hope it goes through alright. Now I'll have to sweat until May 1st.
I have a lot of other things to say, but I'll say them in the next letter. I'll give you some answers and some questions. Until then -
I love you
Ray
P.S. I haven't enough strength to write anymore. I'm oxygen happy.