Fort Lewis, Wash.
April 24, 1942
Here it is 9:15, and I find myself writing to you, of all people. All the way up here, I thought of nothing else but you and our plans and dreams. The moment we reached here, I was ready to go back to Salem, and each moment that passes only makes that desire stronger. Knowing and loving you as I have has certainly made a softie out of me. How this has happened to me, I’ll never know. I have your picture before me now, and I can’t count the times I’ve looked at it since last night.
Right now, Salem seems to be a million miles from here, but it seems that you must be near me, even though I can neither see nor touch you. Knowing that you are waiting for me really gives me a lot to anticipate. Please don’t let anyone steal you from me, ever.
Do you know what they just played over the radio? Yes, you guessed it, it was “Miss You,” and you’ll never realize how much I do miss you. I can’t even start to tell you.
I’m having a terrible time writing this, because I can’t think of anything to say without repeating how much I love you, and I can’t find words expressive enough to convey my full feeling. You know, of course, you’ll be on my mind constantly. I’ll write often, you know I will.
With all my love,