2/23/44 Italy
Honey:
Your letter with the picture and your V-mail #32 arrived today.
You’ll never know what you meant to me today. Last night a whole batch of kids who got out of flying school a year after I did made Lt. Col. None of them have half of the experience or ability that I have, but because of the old school ties, as well as having fallen into American HQ instead of British, as I did, they jumped ‘em over me. If I do make it, I shall have gone from highest ranking Major to lowest L.C., which is no boost. I once stated that any promotion over Major was predominantly political and determined that mine would be purely on ability. If I get it, such will be the case.
All day, whenever I got so damn mad I couldn’t see straight, I would force myself to think of you. I just can’t think of you and stay mad.
Hey! Get back on the track. I gave you definite dope on what to put in savings, checking, and bonds and I don’t want any backtalk. I’m not being patriotic—bonds pay the best interest available. I want some money in an area supported by agriculture (Texas), some supported by industry (Chicago), and some in gov’t bonds. The letter was most specific, and if not clear, let me know.
Also, Dopey, when you talk about money, talk in dollars. “A big hunk” is a lot of hooey. I think you are doing a swell job of managing, but don’t think that talking in generalities will keep me from worrying. Let me in on the dope once in a while.
Well, kitten, something will break eventually. I’ll try to write more cheerful letters, even if I’m not cheerful.
All my love, Cy.
