Letter # 496 October 13, 1944

Friday eve.
Oct 13, 1944
My darling wife;
Hello, sweetheart.  How are you?  I'm very well thank you.  I love you too.
Gosh, honey, here it is.  Friday again and the thirteenth too.  Nothing bad happened either.  In fact, nothing at all happened a bit out of ordinary.  I'm going to have to look around for something else like Jungle School so I will have some more material to write on.  I can't tell you day by day everything we do like I used to and right now I'm having a hard time getting much but rambling in my letters. Afraid they can't be very interesting when they are like that.
Hold on though, honey, maybe something interesting will happen one of these days that I can tell you all about again.  For the present I'll just have to answer your letters and love you a bit.
No use to ask if that was satisfactory to you 'cause even if it wasn't you would tell me they were just perfect. You're so nice that way.  Always trying to make me feel good.  You do make me feel swell all the time. That's love, I guess, honey.
We did have one unexpected thing happen today.  "Oil" had sent some film in the same time I sent mine and, by golly, they came back already today.  That would be swell service if it wasn't a freak.  Fastest I've ever heard of.  Less than three weeks.  I'm hoping now that mine will be following very shortly but I'm pessimistic. His must have been the first, of the probably thousands sent in, to get processed.  Lucky, and won't happen again, I imagine.
He had taken pictures of the native dance held a while ago near here and they came out pretty good.  I'm anxious to see mine.  Hope they come out 'cause there are some that could never be gotten again.  Should be some good ones of me which you may not recognize because of the beard.  There are a couple though taken the first few days and shouldn't show much whisker.
I did have a very devilish desire while I had that beard.  Can you guess what the desire was?  Well, I just wanted to kiss you and make you like it.  Mean aren't I?  I can still remember a rather stinging remark you made the first time I kissed you and I don't think I ever got even for it.  That would have been a good way to get even, wouldn't it?  I think you would even have liked it a little bit.  See?  I'm still as ornery and devilish as ever.  By your letter I see you doubt my ability to even up for your teasing by just walking away when you want to love.  Personally, I think that would be an almost impossible threat to carry out but you know me.  I do get some devilish streaks.  I wasn't thinking about fifty years from now either nor was I referring to the first month or so after I get home.  It might be sometime in between.  I remember what Ed Ritter said and if he can do it I sure ought to be able to.  Fifty years will never be able to make my wife as commonplace and unattractive as his is.  I guess it all comes down to an empty statement only made to tease you a bit.  Like the ones I always used to make about sending you back to your mother, or trading you for a few new models, or going out and finding me a redhead and lots of others.  You knew darn well I didn't mean any of them even if I didn't ever tell you how nice you were and how much I loved you. You seemed to know anyhow.  Didn't you, you sweet devil?  I can remember how you used to pump me for compliments and now I know you were sure I meant them only wouldn't come right out and say so.  Ornery wasn't I?  Try me when I get home this time.  May be surprising, the results you get.  I mean surprising too, 'cause I only think I know how I will act.  I've made resolutions too but keeping them is another thing.  You can use these written statements of promises I've made to put me on the ball though, if I do forget.  I'm consciously in love these days.  I woke up after I had to leave you and missed you so much.
I'm having quite a battle writing these letters lately.  A colony of small, innocent, little ants, no bigger than fleas have moved into my desk and are trying their best to drive me out.  They aren't mean or anything but they keep running back and forth over the paper and getting tangled up with the pen point.  A lot of these blurred letters mark [it happened on that "m"] the spot where another of their little clan met its death.  From the number I squash every night I should be getting rid of them but instead they seem to gain on me.  They have been here for some time now.  I get after them with insect repellent and they leave for a while and then move back in again. Getting to be friends like the cockroaches in La.  So I guess I'll just charge them rent and let 'em stay.  If I can only train them to stay away from the pen point, they won't be any nuisance at all.  I'm getting so used to bugs and such that I'll have to bring some home to make me feel natural.  The little buggers pay a form of rent too.  That may sound like I'm getting a loose screw but I'm not.  I've mentioned the fleas that are so bothersome at times.  Well, these hard working little fellows do a fair job of taking care of them.  As soon as a flea lights two or three ants tackle him and if he isn't very lucky that is the last of Mr. flea.  See what I mean?  Even fairly large bugs that get singed by the light are disposed of by my clean up squad. I guess they pay their lodging.
I know your chin is up and your head high and a nice smile on your face, honey.  You can't realize how much it means to me either.  I'm proud of you.  I can also assure you I'm doing pretty much the same too.  Nothing can get me down as long as I have you, sweetheart.
Did you ever before tell me that Ma Palko had sold out and gone?  I don't remember.  I did see it in a Gazette recently.  Too bad you gals haven't got a hangout any more where you can feel safe to have a beer or two.  You'll be all out of practice and float on one or two by the time I come home.  Wow! Won't that be fun. You seem to get pleasantly torrid, tempting, and terrific then, don't you?
Jean sure is having a hell of a time with her renters and place.  That's something I was afraid of when we were thinking about renting our place.  Be constant trouble.  It's kind of tough for you to be staying there all by yourself but I do believe that it's a smaller source of worry  to us both with you there than if it was rented.  You're doing a swell job of keeping things like they were when I left.
When I come back we can just step right in where we stopped and go on without the trouble of getting ourselves settled back in our home and everything.  You're really being wonderful about it.  As Mom Kelser says you deserve all the help and praise you're getting.  I'm not the only one who thinks so either.
Night, sweetheart.  I love you so much.  Would you like a nice gooey kiss about now?  I sure would.
Your hubby.
Norm.