13 August 1942
Got your nice long letter today, and contrary to what you might have thought, I was very glad you wrote as you did.
I have as yet been unable to get in touch with the chaplain. I’ve been down to his office twice on week nights, but he was out on sick calls both times. However, darling, I have a decision already made, because if the Church is too demanding, that is, if they won’t allow me to be married by a priest without your promising to have the children raised as Catholics, we will not be tied down by that, because I love you altogether too much to let such a thing come between us. As you and your Mother have both said, it is our life to live and our decision to make. I hope that the Church will see things our way, because it would make things better all the way ’round. I don’t know what to do about the time for our wedding, now that I am leaving so soon, but we will talk that over during the coming week-end. As far as our getting married goes, I’d be glad to have the ceremony performed any place you want. I have felt rather partial to your Aunt Nell and Uncle Doc ever since I met them that day in Salem.
Darling, no matter when we decide to be married, whether before or after this is all over, I wouldn’t want to have any children until we were together for good. It really would be unfair to you and to the baby. When we do have children, I want to be with you to help you, and I could never rest knowing that you and our baby were out of my reach.
Please be sure, darling, that your mentioning the subjects I have just written about will never make me think less of you, because that can never be. Our frankness with each other, I know will always continue, and I know will only tend to bind us together more tightly.
We have a great deal to discuss over the week-end, in the light of the events of the past two days.
Haven’t heard from Al yet, but I don’t think he will want me to take the car down. Cochran is going to Portland for the week-end, and we plan to go down on the bus together. Of course, if Al decides to have me take the car down, I can take Cochran to Portland.
I hope the sudden turn of events hasn’t caused you any worry. I felt rather foolish last night, breaking the news so bluntly and abruptly. That was the way is was sprung on me, too. Usually when one is called before the board, it usually is at least another month, at least, until he is sent to school. In fact, there are several who are still waiting, having been before the board a couple of months ago. So when the called me over the very day after I’d been before the board, and notified me that I was to leave so soon, I nearly fainted with surprise.
I’m enclosing a cartoon drawn today by one of the boys in the office. He does something of the sort nearly every day. Put it in our scrapbook if you wish. [Ed. note: she must have; it’s not in the envelope.]
Darling, if I don’t see you this week-end, I’ll go nuts. Whenever I’m with you, I hate to even lose the moments I use sleeping, so you see what hours, days, or even weeks will do. The three months I’ll spend at school are going to be awfully long without you, darling.
I must close now, and get some work done. Will write you more later in the evening if I can get the work done in time.
I liked the “Blondie” strips you sent. They were awfully cute.
Good night for now, Margie. Remember, I love you, and always will.
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!