Letter # 467 August 30, 1944

New Guinea
Wednesday
Aug 30, 1944
Hello, perfect and beautiful;
Here's the old pest back at it again.  Writing another letter you'll have to read and answer.  I like to pest you.  You're nice pesting, only I can't do it very well by letter.  I can tell you I love you.  I do, all the time.  You're sweet.
No new letters today so I'll chatter along for a bit and then answer some I have.
Heard a rumor today that sounded very much like I'd be going back to work soon now.  I rather hope it's true. This vacation was swell but I can't see it's accomplishing much and that is about the only satisfaction a man can get from the army.  If it was to be only a vacation, I'd much rather it was where you are.  Vacations just aren't any good without you.  I miss you so much more when I'm playing than when I'm working.  Why shouldn't I?  You're my wife and we've always been together when we were having fun.  I love you sweetheart.
There was a ball game today but in view of the fact I may not have much time to waste, I thought I'd better do a little work I'd been neglecting for some time, so I stayed and worked.  I told you of the wind and rain blowing in one night so I had a hard time writing to you.  Well, I've got that fixed now so I won't have any more trouble unless the tent blows away.  I guess you can get an idea of what our tents look like from the little card I drew for our anniversary.  I sleep in one corner where, if the rain drives, it comes in a bit, so today I made me three curtains and fixed them so I can roll them up and tie them there until needed. Now, let her rain and blow.  I'll be dry.  The curtains are of canvas of course.  Then I finished my desk and still had a little time left to read a Colliers.  Getting a little more  handy and  comfortable every day.
I heard remarks that are supposed to have come from our Allies to the effect that, give the U.S. Soldier a few pieces of wood and some time and he'll make a mansion in any sort of wilderness.  Anyhow it's nearly true.  This camp has sure changed since we first hit here.  It doesn't look like very much of a place yet but you should have seen it when we first got here.  I've got some other little projects in the fire too.  I'm not going to tell you a thing about them though.  Two reasons.  One, to tease you in retaliation, and the other, just in case I don't have time to get them done.  So there too.  I'll find ways to tease you to get even, you devil.  Whatcha sending me, sweetheart?
I guess that about covers my activities for the day so I'll get at your letters.  Aug. 15 comes now.
Good thing you say your new job is going to be the most interesting of your business career.  If you hadn't put that word "business" in there I'd be disappointed after all you've told me.  You always tell me that being my wife is the job you like best.  I want it that way and I hope that very soon that will be your only occupation unless being a possible mother is called another occupation.  Anyhow, I want you at home and no place else. I love you, darling.
Sounds like Gus and Jean are getting the breaks for the time being at least.  They've had quite a bit of time together already.  Good for them.  I wish it could be us.
So Pop Kelser is telling you stories of a slightly shady nature.  Did you tell him one in return?  It was a rather cute one and typical of a political year.  While I think of it, I got the soldiers ballot you had sent to me.  If I can find out enough of what's going on I may use it now that it's here.  It's filed away in my desk for now.
I never had asthma either, have you?  I've had a taste of the other though and I'm wanting a lot more of it.  Best stuff.  Gosh, I hope it isn't too long before I can get another taste.  Taste, hell.  I want my fill.
Can I get it?
Honey, I'll have to admit that most of the stationery I've been using has been pilfered.  The small tablet sheets I bought at the P.X.  That was all I could buy and I was going to have something to write to you on no matter how I had to obtain it.  Do you blame me?
Don't worry, honey.  I'm taking care of me for you.  You're helping an awful lot with sweet letters and packages.  Between us both we'll see that I'm taken care of very well.  I intend to come back as much as you want me to.  I love you.
I'm glad you're finding my letters so interesting.  It cramps my style a bit to be so careful about what I'm saying.  By going way around the buck and depending on you to guess what I'm trying to say we seem to be getting along pretty well.  At least you seldom question about what I'm talking about.  I got a smart Mummy if she can decipher some of these letters.
I can hardly believe it's you saying you'd enjoy a good "chewing" but I'm always willing to be shown.  That's fun.  Remember how they act and what you'd do when I laughed at them?
I'm sorry about the bawling out, honey.  I've already apologized when I found you had answered once before.
All right, honey, it won't be a Velma in name but it better have a lot of your good points.  That's what I really meant and not a duplicate name.  If our plans develop we can always find a suitable handle for whatever it is.
Gosh, honey, I guess you are writing letters by the pound.  Even got a scale so you can write the limit in each one.  That's getting right down to cases.  You're some girl.
So Marg is in England.  May be in France before long.  I imagine she is enjoying it over there.  She always wanted to travel.  In the Effinger blood I guess.
Evidently I was right in thinking you would make a swell mother.  When you can be with a kid for a couple weeks and make that big an impression, it's proof a plenty.  I've always been told that anyone that kids and dogs take to is an O.K. person.  As if I needed any such test in your case.  I love you and that's enough for me.
I can sympathize with Art and his wondering what to do with the old thing.  He's one ahead of me though.  He can still ask Marg what he's going to do with it.  I have to solve that problem all by myself.  I just let him go till he gives up in disgust.  I guess he thinks I'm a hell of a provider.  Can't seem to make him believe it isn't my fault either.  He's ornery as hell sometimes, at others, only ornery.  See?  We're still loving you and saving all we can for you.  Night, passionate, I love you.
Your hubby.
Norm.