New Guinea
Tues. eve.
Aug 15, 1944
Hi. Bouncing Bubbles;
How's my passionate parcel of pulchritude tonight? In good shape, I imagine, and probably almost ready to be passionate should the occasion arise. Don't wish you any hard luck but I hope it doesn't arise until I'm there to be the lucky one. I'd think it would be a lot harder for you to be absolutely true than for me. Temptation can't be very far away from you most of the time. Over here there is no temptation. By the time you get this letter it will be as long since we've been together as it has ever been and this time there is no hope for a furlough. Hard lines, but if you can take it as bravely as you are, I surely ought to be able to. Everyone that writes me says you are being so grand and keeping your spirits and - well just being your own swell self that I'm getting so proud of you, I'm almost busting. See, people are thinking of you too.
Mable Dulany wrote a very nice boost for you. John says he still can't see how you ever married a roughneck like me. I agree and often wonder how I was so lucky. I'm not going to be foolish enough to complain about my luck. I'm going to keep that break if there is any possible way to do it. The only way you'll ever get loose from me is to tell me you no longer want me. Even then, I'd be hard to convince. I'm in love with you and getting more and more so each day. You're my perfect wife.
Sweetheart, you must have a high estimate of my intelligence, to send me a poem like that. Hell of a lot of big and almost perfectly strange words. I can get the meaning though. First time I read it, I didn't think much of it, except the last verse. Then I read it again and the third time I began to get it. It's all right. That last verse, if it ever came true, would be the end of me. Very little left to live for. At the first sign of anything like that happening, I'm going to take my "bit of heaven" and go hide someplace in the bush with her. If I know my Babe, she'd go too. Nobody can do that to us for the older, wilder ways always. The wilder the better I say. You do too, by the sound of your letters. You backed up your talk before and I don't doubt you can again. Be any kind of wild thing you want to be, only don't scratch and be willing. Whoops! Round and round we go. Where we stop - we don't know yet. I hope never. I'm "hurtin". Loving and missing you so much, sweet and luscious.
No letters today and I don't have any to answer either. All caught up for the first time in a couple weeks. I'll take time now to tell you some things you wanted to know that I couldn't talk about until now. The time limit is up.
First, the trip from Polk to Stoneman. Left Polk at 6 P.M. the 8th of May. All army train. Pullman. Here is the route we covered. DeRidder, Lake Charles, Beaumont, Texas, San Antonio, Fort Sam Houston, Spofford, Del Rio, Comstock, Sanderson, El Paso, Columbus, New Mexico, Hachita, Douglas, Arizonia. Herford, Tuscon, Phoenix, Yuma, Calevico, Calif. Niland, Indio, Redlands, Los Angeles, San Bernadino, Mojavo, Bakersfield, Fresno, Mersed, Pittsberg. There, you can follow the trip on a map and see where we went. It was a very interesting trip, and I for one, never lost interest or wanted the trip to end.
Our own kitchen on the train, and were fed on paper plates and cups, so no dishes to wash. Three men to a double seat. Gebby, our first Sargent, and I shared one. Gebby and I had the lower berth. Always made me mad when it got dark and I could no longer see the country. It was very warm all during the trip until the last night. Damn near froze then. I'll get to that later.
Gebby and I slept with the windows open and it was very comfortable. Usually when we stopped at night the cessation of motion would wake me and I'd see all I could wherever we were. I know I missed a lot even then. We were on the train for four nights and only three days.
No more than left the state of Louisiana and the country changed for the better. The lower eastern part of Texas looks to be very rich crop land. Lots of small farms, vegetables and fruit. The pines stop almost as if they couldn't grow in Texas. From San Antonio west, the country changes again and gradually becomes semi arid range land. Fort Sam Houston and the famous Alamo of the days of Texas' birth.
Saw a lot of my old friends of Colorado days. Sage, mesquite, greasewood, prickly pear, prairie dogs, gophers, and hosts of others. Went past what must be one of the big ranches we hear of in Texas. I had noticed for miles that there was a high fence built with concrete posts and woven wire paralleling the tracks. Then we went past a big gate with a sign reading, Lazy R Ranch. Road leading back among the sage covered, rolling hills to an oasis of trees and green with glimpses of masonry buildings and red tile roofs. Then more miles of the same kind of fence. It finally right angled away from the tracks and disappeared over distant hills. It must be a mammoth number of acres. I'd guess we were well over half an hour passing it. Like to ride over it once. Not nearly as nice range land as Colorado. The grass is scarcer and the sage and mesquite bigger and thicker. Need to be an Indian scout to find cattle in that stuff. The prickly pear, those are flat leaved long thorn cactus, were in blossom. Big delicate yellow flowers. Lots of other wild flowers too. That was spring then.
On to Del Rio, border town. Curious mixture of Mexican and American. Neat, pretty Spanish type masonry homes, red tile roofs and then the poorer section. Not so pretty. Del Rio is the border town with the radio station. Remember the quack doctor that used to broadcast advice on any medical subject until the government finally hung one on him? Old Mexico is in sight from there. On to and over the big gorge cut by the Pecos River. It is supposed to be the 2nd highest bridge in the world. I know it's a long way down to the river. A house down near the river level looked like a doll house and people like dolls. Don't know the footage figures.
Sanderson and a brief stop and interesting diversion. Troop trains always attract, especially in small, out of the way places. A dozen or so Mexican or half breed girls, mostly young, sixteen or so, walked up and down the train flirting and talking with the boys. Weren't allowed to get off or I'm afraid we'd have lost some men. One girl was really a beauty. Dark, like a girl that spends all her time on the beach, jet black hair and eyes. Dressed in a plain red dress. On her it wasn't plain. She was built and plenty friendly too. I was on guard at one of the steps and they nearly needed a guard for me. If you weren't in my thoughts all the time, I'd have been a deserter.
Finally arrived in El Passo at 6 A.M.the 10th. Does that give you an idea of the size of Texas? Two nights and a day to cross it. Thirty four hours and it wasn't a slow train either. The last time I came home I made it in 29 hours.
El Passo is real pretty in places. One of the most attractive train stations I've ever seen. Creamy white masonry and red tile roof. Ask Louise. Looked good to me and I don't wonder they had a good time there.
Columbus, Hachita, and many other wide spots in the road are all typical arid country towns. Almost pass for ghost towns. Large percentage of the houses, if you can call them that, adobe mud brick construction. Lots of little half breed looking urchins and seedy looking people. Guess they don't have much to do at any time of year but fish and _____. Sounds rather attractive at that, only I'd leave the fishing out too. Oh for that vacation that's coming. I love you, sweetheart.
The mountains begin to show up from El Passo on. Not very big, but rugged, sand blasted humps of rock and sand with only a sparse covering of sage and grass. Very little grass. Barren, God forsaken land, but yet, it's grand. Seems to cast a spell of some sort. The immensity and nothingness attract where ordinary land doesn't. May be only the contrast but I don't think so. I had that feeling before when I lived in similar country. Oh hell. I can't explain it It'll just have to be one more on the list of things we hope to see and do together. I'll have to show you so you can understand what I mean. Remember the dream Gebby and I were dreaming one day? I wrote you about it. Wouldn't that be a swell way to spend the first part of our reuniting honeymoon together? Taking a nice long trip home together and showing you some of the things I'm talking about. Of course it would undoubtably interfere with other business but not too much. Nights are long and it might be a good thing to be otherwise occupied part of the time. Might not know when to quit and we don't want to wear out too quickly.
I guess the rest of the trip will have to be in the next installment This letter has about reached its' limit. Night my passionate parcel. I'm loving you.
Your wandering boy
Norm.
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