2/12/40
Brooks Field
San Antonio,Tx.
My Angel:
I hope your last letter wasn’t serious! Of course I’m more concerned about my cousins. I only know two or three girls in S.A. and I honestly don’t know which sides of town they live on. Honey, my cadet wings have sure been worked on, but are untouched. And, hey! You’d better get a wedding ring before our offspring gets through high school! (Hope you mean “ring” and not “wedding”).
We moved in here in time for noon mess. There are 45 men in my class and 45 in the upper class. The entire attitude to date is one of seashore resort class. There is little discipline and no upper class hazing. It seems almost too good to be true. There are disadvantages, though. We are living in “temporary” barracks built in 1916! There are no rooms, each man having his bed and footlocker and steel locker. The informality is excellent. I’m already beginning to feel like a human being again. It seems like a Boy Scout Camp. Even radios are permitted, although this isn’t so hot for people want to go to sleep.
The biggest catch is that now that we are here, we haven’t any airplanes to fly! They should arrive this week, though. The BC-1’s aren’t much different from the BT-9s and I don’t anticipate any trouble.
The enclosure is something I plopped out at Annie Laurie’s last Sunday. How’s about typing it and sending it to the poetry editor of the “Post!” The check’s yours if it works. Use the pen name of “Leo Johns” and submit it in your name.
Well, Darling, I’m still figgering. Don’t be too surprised if we go back to the RCA and tell the A.C. to go to hell. They’re piddling with a goddamn 3 yr bachelor regulation. Precious, with a whole town full of girls who would give their all for my cadet uniform, I’m still sublimely waiting for the day when I can have you. Of course, I may be wrong. But I feel that you have something a little extra special in all respects.
Call Mother and tell her my new address. It’s just like living in a barn here, but I think I shall like it. Save everything you have for me.
Your husband, Cy