Dearest Toots,

Thanks for not bawling me out about the letter I wrote which you didn't like. You know sometimes we get so tired out from successive runs our nerves get shot and our morale at low ebb. For instance, after one particularly irksome run our young nurse told me she felt like sitting down in a corner and bawling only she couldn't find a quiet place. Of course, we fellows don't feel like bawling but we do get feeling low at times—such must have been the case when I wrote that letter. I've thought of it several times since then and am glad it's now part of the past. One of the guys wrote his girl a letter that same night. I don't know just what he said but she wouldn't write to him for over a month. Finally her mother persuaded her to give him another chance so they got things straightened out. At any rate, honey, it won't happen again as I now know how we stand so my morale will be high no matter how tired I get. One reason why I'm writing to you every day this week is to try to make up to you for that bit of thoughtlessness. Fortunately, I've had the time this week, however, don't get the idea that I expect you to copy my example. I know how hard it is to write every day. As things are now they satisfy me completely. I doubt if I'll equal this performance again, not because I couldn't but because there can be too much of a good thing. As the song puts it, too much love may curb the fire and that I don't want to happen.

Well I went out last nite with the intention of seeing Abbott & Costello. There was such a long queue I didn't bother so after spending an hour or so at the Red Cross I hit the road back again. We had spent the afternoon trying to open up the drain alongside the train so I was tired anyway. We were using picks and shovels in about eight inches of water so it was no picnic. It's all opened up now so we're going to leave it like that for a couple of days to see if it will drain correctly now.

Say I didn't mean for you to send me perfume. All I meant was for you to put a couple of drops on your letters. Bring the homefront to the front as it were.

As far as riding along listening to dance music on our radio or phonograph, naturally I'd like someone named Jerry with me, however, if the army hasn't taught me anything else it's taught me patience mainly because I had to learn it. The old army game is to hurry and wait.

Too bad you missed the tobogganing party. I'll bet you would have had a swell time. I wouldn't have let bad roads in the country stop me. I remember being out one winter nite in my car when I couldn't see the end of the hood it was snowing so hard. There were no other tire tracks to follow on the road as it was a shortcut between two highways, and very little used. The snow was almost two feet deep and the only way I stayed on the road was by guessing how far away it was from a row of trees which extended down one side. I like going out like that sort of pitching my wits against the elements.

Twice this winter so far, my dad has been unable to get his car out of our driveway because the snow was too deep. My mother told me that one day all the schools had to close too. We live near the outskirts like you do which gives the snow a chance to drift all over the place and how it does.

Well I see I'm in the past again so rather than keep on I'll call it a day, even though I don't feel like it. I hope the letter I wrote to you about joining the service and none of the things I said bothered you. Bawl me out if they did.

Now dear little president, I'll say good-nite once more. Take care of yourself for me honey.

All my love,

Johnny

P.S. I didn't make any New Year Resolutions — did you? Don't forget to send mail to APO 511 I notice you still use 184 det H.