5 August 1942
It’s been years since I last heard from you. Hope you are well. I made arrangements today for a pass to Salem, and I’m sure it will go through.
I just knew I was going to get a letter from you yesterday, but no such luck. I wasn’t around all day, and as soon as I got back, I came tearing into the office looking for your letter. A couple of the fellows wanted me to go see the show “Pride of the Yankees” with them, so we went. It really was a swell show, too. When we came back, it was pretty late, and I got to thinking of you and worrying about you. Had a pretty hard time getting to sleep, too.
Caught the night shift again tonight which I didn’t like too well. Get the whole day off tomorrow to rest, which is all right.
Bing Crosby is appearing in person at the theater just down the street. Gotta go see it tomorrow night. Guess half the regiment must have gone tonight, because there sure was a string of them headed that way about 5:30.
Cochran was due to leave today for officer’s school, which would have given me the promotion I was slated for, and what happened? They turned him down on account of his eyesight, thereby stopping me cold for the third time in just a few days over two months. Cochran sure felt bad about not getting to go. Haven’t had much of a chance to talk to him, but he was planning on it so strong that it really hurt when they rejected him.
I was getting my physical exam for officer’s school yesterday, which was the reason for my not being
there here all day. There is nothing about when or if I will go, because there are several ahead of me yet, and the quotas are getting smaller all the time.
Haven’t seen much of Al the past few days. The band may go away for a while, though I hope not. I’d really miss them if they did go, even for a short while. Don’t know whether Al will be able to go to Salem Saturday or not, so I may have to take the bus, that is if you want me to come. Somehow, when your letters don’t arrive on schedule, I feel as though I possibly have done something to offend you. Believe me, darling, if ever that should happen, it would hurt me as much as it would you, because I never want to do anything displeasing to you, ever.
Still have my cold. Just about rid of it, and then back it comes, as bothersome as ever. I feel all right but just can’t seem to shake that blamed cold.
Darling, I hope there’s a letter from you in the mail tomorrow. Please, let there be one. I wrote you Saturday, and had one of the boys take it to town and mail it. Did you get it all right? You surely should have gotten it Monday. The reason I ask is because there have been two fellows I know of who have written to their wives, one in Salem and one in Roseburg, and the letters haven’t been going through as they should.
What would you rather do for the week-end? Would you rather go to Portland or spend the week-end in Salem? I’d much rather go to Portland, as there’s so much more to do and see, but you name the scheme of things the way you want it. If I don’t hear from you by Friday morning, I intend to call Friday night, and we can discuss plans.
The last two letters from you have been read and re-read until they are nearly worn out. And I’ve looked at your picture a hundred times in the past three days, and talked to you. Have you heard me?
Marjorie, darling, I love you, as I’ve told you already a million times, and as I’ll tell you a million times again if you’ll listen.
Guess Henry Aldrich and Mrs. Henry are getting along quite well. She is living in Olympia, and was out to see him tonight. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her, as she was just getting on the bus when I saw her.
Marge, darling, I have to close now, as business is picking up. See you Saturday, I hope.
All my love, always
Ed. Note—This letter has a bit of shorthand at the end of the letter. If you can read Gregg shorthand and you’d like to take a stab at what it says, please do type it out in the Comments!