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  • Flea Market Love Letters

March 28, 1943.




Dear Ralf,


This army life is swell, go to bed at 9:00, and get up at 6:15 in the morning. I’m now stationed at Camp Bowie Texas, where the song, Deep in the heart of Texas is supposed to have originated.


I’ve been marching my ass off, and will be for ten weeks of basic training, but I don’t mind it, because it’s beautiful country in Texas, about 100 degrees in the shade.


Boy am I getting good food cooked just the way I like it.


Hell! I am under fourteen days of quarantine because of vaccinations and the closest town for miles around is Brownwood. The corporal just kidding said “There’s one woman to three hundred men and soldiers in Brownwood, and if you came into town late on your weekend pass, you’ll have to walk in the street, the sidewalks are crammed with hard up soldiers.”


How is the Elm gang? Have many of our old pals have gone into the service yet? Are you still going with Sunny or did you get what you wanted? When are they taking you, or don’t you know? I’m in the Tank Distroyer Batalion, a new outfit with plenty of chances for promotion. I can’t get into officers training because of my lack of schooling, but I’m trying for one of the roughest, toughed, outfits yet, the motorcycle division, as a dispatch rider. Boy! I’m getting homesick but I’ll have to get over it.


I wrote to Louise, I wonder if she still likes me, or has she forgotten me? How are Harry & Edith, I haven’t had time to write many letters because I’ve been busy all day + at night I have to take a shower, shave, shine my shoes, read my soldiers manual, and etc., etc., but give him my regards + I will write a letter to him tomorrow night.


I must be signing of now, for its getting late and I have a hard day ahead of me.


My Pal,

Bob


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