4/15/40
Brooks Field, Tx.
Hi Angel:
Hmmmmmmmmm! So you are going to be in Wheaton the week-end Johny is going to be in Glen Ellyn so you’ll both probably be in Chicago! Hmmmmmmm! Well, I told him to kiss you for me (too)!
Sorry to hear about Mother. The family haven’t said anything about it yet. Keep your eyes open and let’s hold down that expense as much as possible. Something serious there just now would just about put the skids under our plans.
There’s really not much I can write. Same old stuff of cross-countries and instrument rides. Most of the gang are plotting their courses, but my instructor never gives us our routes until the last minute. In a way, this is best, for it is the way we’ll work in the service.
Honey, don’t let the war scare you. Think how much worse off the rest of the girls your age are! At least, even if I should get into combat work, I wouldn’t be in a stinking trench. And the probable answer for all of my class would be posts as instructors. We have many more hours than most of the squadron commanders in the present squabble.
We’ve had what I hope is the last cold spell. It broke all records and nearly froze us to death. If the fellow next to me hadn’t slept so soundly, so I could swipe two of his blankets for a total of six, I don’t know what I would have done.
Heard an old one last night which isn’t bad (or is it?) Bridegroom comes downstairs the first morning to find his wife burning breakfast and making a hell of a mess of things. “What’s the matter?” sez he, “can’t you cook either?”
Well, ‘snuff for now. Lots of love Angel, Cy.