I hope you remember me.

When my dad asked my mom about her family I imagine that she told him she was the fifth of seven children, that her dad was a cotton farmer, that most people in west Texas earned their living farming, raising cattle, or having a business in town.  She probably didn’t tell him that when he came to visit he would have to use an outhouse.

December 3, 1943

Dear Grace,

I hope you remember me.  I met you in the bus station when you were awaiting a bus to go home.  I would have written sooner only I pretty much work to catch up on what was piled up on me while on three day pass.

Here is hoping that your trip home was satisfactory.  My trip in was uneventful, only that I was a few hours late coming into camp.

How are they treating you in school?  If they get rough with you just tell them you know me.

Say, tell me what you do for on consecutive week in a small town like you live in.  Have you any brothers, sisters?  The most important item is that are you engaged?  ‘Cause it seems to me all the pretty girls are engaged.

Last night I went to the show and saw the picture, “Guadalcanal Diary.”  I really did like it.  Have you a bowling alley there?  Any theaters or any other forms of recreation?  What do the people do for a living?

I guess I might be boring you with all these questions so I think I shall close until I hear from you.

Ray