Year: 1939

12/17/39 Attach parade photo from paper
Randolph Field, Tx.
Hi Toots:
So Bill is having trouble with Evelyn! Boy, I’m glad I’m not there for I fear I should too frequently get roped in. Speaking of “the Women”, I think I know whom Spank was thinking of. It’s darned nice to hear you still want your engineer. They’re a funny bunch, but still the ones who make the world go ‘round.
The enclosure will cover part of the Xmas outlay. Darling, I don’t know how I’ll ever get along without you. Don’t get me anything. I haven’t a place to put a thing here, and I’d rather, much rather, you’d stick it on your debts.
The dance last night was fair. Don’t faint, but outside of a bottle of sauterne for supper, I didn’t drink a thing! Of course, it wasn’t my fault. We got in a dance fog (weather bureau will substantiate this) about day-break, and I slept all day. This afternoon we had a review for the GATP (Great American Tax-Payer). It was pretty and no one dropped his rifle or staggered too perceptibly. Even the band (drum & bugle corps) did ok with only one flat note.

Most of last evening was spent ducking a couple of pests who wanted me to write some poetry. I had to write some for the upperclass for mess, and it got around that I was pretty good. Finally, at 4:00 A.M. I dashed off a few lousy lines on the back of a “Black & White” label. That quieted everybody as it was so rotten they didn’t want any more. But here’s some for you that isn’t quite so bad. The inspiration makes the difference.

To be with you, to hold you tight
To keep you ever in my sight,
To kiss your arms, your lips, each breast,
To sleep with you in peaceful rest,
To have a home to call our own,
For precious moments all alone:
When all of these I can acquire
There’s nothing else I shall require.

I do miss you, angel.
Well, it looks like I don’t get any rank down here. I’m told by those who know that it doesn’t make much difference. But I am a little disappointed. Although I probably would have made just as good grades in primary regardless, I almost permitted myself to count on it. Had I been a couple of inches taller I probably would have come out on top.
There isn’t much choice in the matter of cards around here, so you’d better get some for our gifts and “forge” my signature. It won’t be hard. Just make a scrawl no one can read and they’ll say “Oh, it’s from Cy!”
I sent out 2 dozen Xmas cards this year and I hope I covered everything. Since our vacation is so short, I believe I shall spend it here. It will cost me as much in the long run, but I’ll get some rest. Tom and most of the rest of the gang will be here.
The pictures are not so hot. It was the first time I ever used that camera. Maybe I can get some better ones later.

Please acknowledge the enclosure. I haven’t a chance of getting to the Post Office for a money order, and I am a little afraid of sending cash this way, but it can’t be helped.
Well, Darling, it is time to stop, for I can’t think of anything else to say.
I love you, Cy.

12/21/39
Randolph Field, Tx.
Hi Honey:
Gee, there’s not much left of this little boy. I don’t know where I left off, so I shall start way back.
When final ratings came out, your one and only found himself with a set of Sergeant’s stripes (cadet). As far as I know, this is the highest rank given to anyone who didn’t have a reserve commission before appointment or a flying cadet. It’s not much, but as good as could be expected. There are about five other Sgts in the company. Gerrity got a Corporal’s stripe out of the deal. Fleet got nix, and I can’t figure it out.

Yesterday noon I went on duty as F.C.O.D.*, which is a damned nasty tour of 24 hours of hell. While there, they shuffled rooms and Tom and Burt are at the other end of the Barracks on another floor. My new room is very conveniently located on the first stoop. I finally got Don Wiedhardt for a room-mate. This is a big help, for although he is more than I can ask for, he is now in the hospital and about to be washed out. Gee, I hope he gets by the board ok. There’s no damn sense in his washing.
We had two exams scheduled for the morning, but they slapped them on us tonight. At the last minute, all with a grade of 90 or above in military law were excused. But I’m afraid my gunnery grade will be pretty cheesy. Exams on top of O.D.** job is no joke.
Saturday is our first day off, so I get assigned F.C. charge of quarters. This is a 24 hr. duty tour that restricts me to battalion area. Damn it all, why did they start all the dirty assignments at the end of the alphabet.
I really should be more cheerful, for apparently everything is going along fine.
MERRY XMAS

Friday noon, taking off by Greyhound for Nogales***.

Lots of love, Darling. Cy

*The only military abbreviation I found for “F.C.O.D.” “Flight Crew Operations Directorate”; but I suspect Cy’s use of the terms probably means some like “Fucking Cadet On Duty” or “Facility Cadet On Duty”?
**The military abbreviation I found for “O.D.” was “Operations Directives” or “On Duty”
***Arizona, where the Fasts had a vacation home.

Editor’s note:  Cy went to Nogales, Az. to stay with his cousins, the Fasts, for the Christmas break.

12/28/39
Randolph Field, Tx
Co. C, Rm 16
Darling:
Am In an uproar. Nothing serious, but just a lot of work. I’ve been trying to write ever since I got back.
First, I like the picture, but I’m going to have to get one a little later with a little more smile. My honey is very serious about some things, but she looks much more alive and natural when smiling.
I haven’t yet received your wire. Did it go to Arizona or here?
Angel, don’t ever worry about me. If anything should ever happen, which it won’t, you’ll hear about it all too soon. In this game, no news is always good news. This applies even to me, for when doing alright, nothing is said. When they start telling you what’s going on, it is time to be careful.
John wrote that he was going out with you. Wish I could have been there. A cooky duster! What the hell did he use for raw material? Did he have it grafted or tattooed on? Boy, am I going to razz him!
No news from Willy. So the office party must have been fairly tame. Honey, you conducted yourself beautifully and I’m proud of you.
My Christmas was great sport. I left S.A. at 2 PM Friday and got into Tucson Saturday night. Carrols, who are staying with Blen and John, met me and drove me down to Nogales. The place is beautiful. It is adobe with good paint and plaster over it. Floors are concrete and everything is done in light shades. Woodwork is natural color. They have everything from a swimming pool to a phone-radio combination. Nothing elaborate, but everything just so. The country is marvelous. We had snow on the mountain peaks Christmas morning and the air temperature was just brisk. The town of Nogales has everything you could ask for, even if it is half or more Mexican. Christmas Eve, they had a couple of couples in for dinner. They were Winnie and Louis???? And Cy and Beulah Harkins. The two know Sis. We had a hell of a good time. I played Santa Claus and delivered the presents after dinner.
I got a big kick out of John. He was certainly a sad specimen when I got there, but after a day of rag-chewing, he began to look like himself. I hope he didn’t have a relapse after I left.
Honey! Nix on that engagement ring. For two reasons. One, I’m not superstitious, but I never liked the flavor of anything connected with the CFS Sr.,* and still don’t. The other is that if you ever get one, I want it to be definitely mine. Take it back to Nena and leave it there.
Now for the news here. When I got back, I found the lower class pouring in. Being a Sgt, I got a squad to educate and process. I’ve been about nuts with them. They’re good kids, but there is so much to teach them. I don’t want them to go through the hell I got for not being given the right advice.
Well, Darling, it starts all over in a few minutes. I had my 20 hour check this morning, and passed it ok. That means I am in for another couple of weeks or so, barring something drastic. I’m beginning to get the feel of these crates.
Darling, I’ll miss you new years. Everyone is going to be good this year, for we don’t get paid until after the first, and Xmas left us all broke.
Lots of love, Cy.

*Charles F. Sharrard, Sr., Nena’s former husband.