1 August 1942

Marjorie Darling:

Never got a chance to write you last night after we talked on the phone.

Today so far, is pretty dead. Not much work to do this morning, and it’s awfully quiet this afternoon. Most of the fellows have gone various places for the week-end. Yesterday was payday, and as soon as these boys get a few dollars in their pockets, they really take off to get rid of it. It literally burns holes in their pockets.

Wish we could have been together more during the past week, as it seems that the moon was never better than it was the first part of the week. In fact, I wish we could be together more — period. You say it seemed empty after I left Sunday, and I have to agree with you, because for me, life is rather a vacuum all the time we are apart.

Hope they didn’t work you too hard at the office the past week.

Believe me, darling, I did enjoy our week-end very, very much. Every time I think of how beautiful you are, it sorta chokes me. I really can’t make up my mind about one thing though. Do you look more beautiful with or without a hat? It must be that I prefer you to look just as you do at the moment, because when I see you with a hat on, you seem to look better than you did before putting it on, then when you remove it, it seems that you become again just a bit lovelier.

Really, Marjorie, and this is not “blarney” as you say it is, you are the loveliest person I’ve ever met or ever seen. Just positively breath-taking. And to supplement your beauty, you have a certain combination of poise, good nature, sweetness, which all goes to make you not only the prettiest, but also the most lovable person in the world. A year ago, if anyone had told me that there really was a person like you in the world, I’d have called him crazy, because you are the kind of a girl I had always dreamed of knowing, but never had even dared hope to find. When I think of how close we came to not meeting, it absolutely scares me. If I had been as bashful as usual, we probably would never have met after the first night, but the moment I saw you, I realized that I wanted to know you, and after we met and danced together, I knew that it was love, and that it was imperative that I see you as often as possible. At first, I was afraid that you wouldn’t understand how I felt about you, or that even if you did understand, you would be disinclined to respond. I dared not hope that you could love me. When you let me kiss you the first time, my heart become tons lighter, because I had planned from the first moment we met, to kiss you at the first opportunity, and I felt that if you allowed me to do it, or responded, I had more hope, because deep inside me I felt that you weren’t the type of girl who allowed herself to be kissed by any and every soldier who came along. Since that first kiss, I have had an insatiable appetite for kisses from these same lips. You have observed that fact since then. If only I could kiss you right now, to prove it to you. Each time we are together, your kisses, like your beauty and personality, seem to become more precious. In every sense, you become more and more desirable. You deserve more things of a material nature than I could ever give you, but I can assure you that if my capacity for loving, for adoring a person like you is as great as that of other men, and I believe it is, you could not be loved more sincerely by anyone else. As I’ve told you, even if you ever decide that you love someone else, I could never stop loving you even one little bit. No one, not even you, can alter my affection for you. Even though I realize how unworthy I am of your love, I hope that you will never realize the same. If I can always conduct myself in a manner which is pleasing to you, that’s all I want, even though I realize that you are worthy of someone better.

Thank you, darling, for the poem you sent. I’ve read it a dozen times already, as I have also read your letter over and over.

Please don’t feel that the little bit of expense involved in last week-end, or for that matter, any week-end we spend together, is working any kind of hardship on me, because all I want money for anyway is to spend to see you and be with you, and perhaps entertain you a little. As you know, the week-ends I have spend with you are the only times I have been away from the post since we came back up here from Oregon. They are the only times I have even cared to leave the place, because to go anyplace without you wouldn’t even be pleasure. The pure joy of being with you cannot be measured in money. Considering the pleasure which a week-end with you brings me, a million dollars wouldn’t be too much to pay for it. Since it doesn’t cost much of anything, I feel that I’m getting a terrific bargain.

Dalley and Jim Edwards had been planning a trip to Victoria, and then found that they had to work tomorrow, so as long as we weren’t to be together for the week-end, I took Dalley’s shift, and Jim got a substitute, and they took off. The USO is conducting a boat trip up there tomorrow. Hope we can make such a trip some week-end. Perhaps we can persuade Bernadette and Al to go up to Vancouver with us some time. I’d sure like to see it, but not without you. Remember that song, “Not Without You“? That’s the way I feel since meeting you. There are hundreds of places I’ve always wanted to see, but since meeting you, I wouldn’t enjoy them nearly so much unless you were along. Seeing them except in your company, just doesn’t appeal to me any more for some reason.

Please thank Mrs. Jensen for me for her invitation to stay at her house. It’s especially nice of her in view of the fact that I’m trying to take away her foster-daughter. If I were she, I would resent that Hopkins guy’s attentions to her sweet Haind girl. Give her my very best regards, please.

I wish we could be together this week-end, but as you say, we wouldn’t be able to spend much time together, and I don’t especially like to see you have to come so far by bus. Coming up by car is hard enough for you, and the bus both ways would be even worse.

Hope to see you next week-end, in any event. Will write more tomorrow if I have the chance. Be very good, and remember that a certain Sgt. Hopkins loves you very much. If I can find someone going to town, I’ll send this with him to be mailed, so you can get it Monday. If not, you probably won’t get it until Tuesday at least.


Ed. Note—This letter has a bit of shorthand at the end of the letter, and a touch more tucked away inside the envelope flap. If you can read Gregg shorthand and you’d like to take a stab at what they say, please do type it out in the Comments!

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