1/1/40
Original correspondence:
1/1/40
Randolph Field, Tx.
Angel:
I love you, and I wish I could have told you a little more personally than this way.
Last night was a mess, and I hope I don’t have to go through one like it again. Chuck Patton, one of my upperclassmen back here and at Curtiss, got killed in an auto accident a couple of nights ago. I have going with the same crowed of kids that he did. Last night was spent with them, including his girl (they were practically engaged), and her sister and friends. It was more like a wake than a New Year’s party. Believe me, honey, it was no fun. I feel pretty badly about it myself, but having to see Caroline was no joke. She held up rather nicely. We stayed up until five, at which time we knew she was sufficiently tired to go to sleep. Chuck was such a cheerful, smiling person that none of us can realize he is gone. I can’t even visualize him the way he must have been after the wreck. Fortunately, none of us saw him and we can always remember him just the way he was.
Enough morbidity. Flying goes on as usual. I passed my twenty hour check, so I must be doing ok.
We had no ground school last week. All of the officers had to process our new lowerclassmen. I was assigned a squad of 10 men and I really had my hands full. The first day was spent in getting them their equipment, haircuts, photos, and into their room. The other days were taken up by two or three hours of drill. If you want to get really tired, just go out and yell commands to a bunch of dodoes for three solid hours!
Speaking of commands, do you remember Lt. Bob Cassidy, class 40 c, that I was so thick with in Chi? Well, he got through ok, and I was quite flattered to have him call me when he arrived. He’s a swell kid, and we had a time of it shooting the bull. He told me a story about one of his classmates at the Point who was trying to develop a good command voice. Every night after mess, he would leave early, run to the latrine in the barracks, run down the line flushing all 16 toilets, and then try to shout commands loud enough to be heard about the racket! The part that tickles is that I meet this boy (now an officer) every day and I have a deuce of a job keeping a straight face. But he has developed a good command voice! I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun making my voice break while giving commands to the dodoes. Of course, they think I can’t help it and want to laugh, and I keep a straight face and don’t permit them to laugh. Boy, I’ll bet they could kill me! I haven’t done a bit of hazing, though, and I don’t intend to. As a result, my squad has much more zip than the rest of them.
Ed Marsh, another Curtiss man, washed out Saturday. Boy, it hurts to see them go that way! The Chicago men have stuck together much better than have the men from other schools.
I got a swell letter from Johny for Christmas. Sure do wish I could have seen him.
QST published “Q Measurements” this month, but I didn’t break into Radio at all. The QST article looked rather well, although I haven’t had time to read it through.
What a rat. Don is out so I am consuming the candied fruit one of his gals sent him for Christmas. I’ll bet he’ll be happy when he gets home! I guess I told you Don washed out. When he and Ed Marsh leave, I shall probably get Ed’s room-mate, O’Brien. Honey, the strain is awful. The thing that gets on one’s nerves is that your instructor can make or break you regardless of your flying ability. This uncertainty is no fun and I shall be glad when it is over. Of course, there are other advantages to cadet life which tend to balance it to some extent.
If some of these lowerclass misters don’t quit slamming doors around here there’s going to be hell to pay!
Darling girl, I love you very much. Right now the future doesn’t look so hot. But it’s looked worse and we’ve always come through before. Present indications are definitely an Alaskan or Puerto Rican station with a no wife clause. If it goes through that way, prepare yourself to become a traveling secretary with restricted extra-curricular activity! I’m damned sick and tired of living away from you. The MIT plan will just have to go through.
Be a sweet little girl and I’ll try to keep up my correspondence a little better in the future. Between the 20 hour check, the lower class, and poor Chuck, I haven’t really lived for over a week. I have been literally exhausted all week.
Still your husband, Cy.