June 8, 1943.
Gee, I miss your letters so much – it’s been almost two weeks since I heard from you.
The last letter I got was the one telling of your meeting with Ralph.
Sol Brettner asked me today to write up a little outline telling of how you two met, etc. So that he could write an account for the U.S. news. I brought it down to his office. I don’t know if you remember him, he’s a very dark fellow with a little mustache, thinks he’s quite a Don Juan with the gals. He’s the type who pats you on the back and looks you over while he talks to you. He makes me sick. Men make me sick. They’re all alike. Well, not all. You and a couple others are nice.
I got another letter from Henry last Thursday. It got me so mad that I told him off. I’m nice to everybody, but when I do get mad, look out! I wrote him a very snippy sort of letter and told him I was sick of hearing him feel sorry for himself because we broke up.
Sales Office, Wednesday – I got an answer already from Henry. Maybe I was a little hard on him. He apologized for making me angry and said after that he would be very careful just to write friendly letters and would never bother me with his feelings for me. I don’t see how he can care for me after all this time.
Well, darling, I wish you’d come home so I could see a real man for a change. Gee, I’m crazy about you!!
XXXXXXXXXX and then some!