Letter # 502 October 19, 1944

New Guinea
Thurs. eve.
Oct. 19, 1944
My darling wife;
Boy, I sure rated at mail call tonight.  Eight letters all at once.  Oct 4, 5, &7th from you.  One from Mom & one from Pop Kelser, one from Mom & Hazel, and one from Jim. That's seven.  The eighth was also from you only it wasn't a letter.  It was a picture of a very serious minded girl with big wide set, straight looking eyes. full round face. but showing quite a lot of determination in spite of the soft contours.  The most remarkable part of the face is a pair of extremely kissable lips.  Nice and full and a perfect Cupid's bow.  They look very capable of giving and receiving some very thrilling kisses.  Perfect for gooey, wide open ones.  I'd go wild if I ran into anything like them at this stage of my exile in N.G.  The girl is my wife.  I'm very proud of her too.  I love her. It is a very unusual picture of you, sweetheart.  I've never seen one of you even similar to it.  What were you so serious about, darling?  I have seen you look exactly like that a few times in person.  Usually when we were having one of our very few disagreements. It really isn't you as you usually are but I like it anyhow. I have it mounted on the cover of the other one you sent me so now I can see you in two moods, widely different. The pictures show one thing in common.  The likeness of a very beautiful girl. You are so.  I'm not prejudiced so much I can't see.  I've seen lots of poorer faces on magazine covers and such.  Above and beyond looks there is unmistakable character showing in all your pictures and that is one thing usually absent in beauty pictures.  Is it any wonder I'm in love with you gorgeous?  Gee, I'm glad I gothcha, honey.
There I guess you can gather that I liked your second picture also.  I'm getting a lot of my favorite pinup these days.  I now have four of you where I can see you all the time.  Got another new picture to show off to my buddies.
Mom & Hazel also sent a picture.  One of Bob's Jackie.  Taken there in town. Very good picture.  Jackie surely is a blond.  Her hair looks as white as Bob's shirt.  I think I can understand your first unfavorable impression of her.  I can't say that I am much taken by her looks either.  I can't say why.  Just an impression. Pictures are a poor way for me to form opinions.  I'm not as good as you at it.  From your description I know she is small, but in this, she looks as big, if not bigger, than Bob.I expect the heavy legs help that impression along.  Bob looks good and very natural. I'm going to take your estimate of her until I have a chance to form a first hand opinion of my own.  I sure hope you are right.
Now I guess I'll start on your letters.  Oct 4th.  I guess we are both having a bit of trouble with our mail lately.  Skipping and not coming in rotation.  But, what the hell!  They get here and that is what counts.  The 6th skipped in this bunch.
Yes, honey, I made another little mark on my calendar tonight. I had guessed it but waited to mark it until I had confirmation.  Silly, aren't I?  I don't care. It's one intimate thing I can still do.
I imagine Bobby is getting to be quite a kid.  Six months make a big difference at that age.  I can also see why he would be a tough little egg with Ed to play with. Good for him.
I can't believe that Ronnie really remembers all the people that go with the names he remembers.  It's cute though and he must be a smart little tyke.  Say hi to him for me.
You are a devil but I won't bawl you out about it.  Taking my letter in to Baldwin!  Such a business.  I don't care though, if you don't.  If I had had any idea you'd do that I'd have scattered little la-de-das all through it or else been a bit careful of the words, spelling and etc.  I can't imagine it being fit to appear in print without a lot of rewriting.  As I said though, I don't care if you don't.  I'm not ashamed of anything I write to you.  It's me.  You can do as you please with any of my letters.  They're yours. I'm yours too to do as you please with.  So there too.
Sixteen boxes already on their way to me.  You must spend an awful lot of time packing boxes for me.  I sure appreciate it too.  How much, I'll someday show you.  What are the real Christmas presents you promise to give me when I'm home again?  It better be what I'm thinking.  You can afford those presents too 'cause they won't cost any money.  Only a lot of energy and willingness.  Think you can manage?
I'm sure it won't be any fault of yours if I don't have a bigger Christmas than any other soldier over here.  Sounds like I'll need another tent for storage.  You're so sweet, darling.
You are doing a very good job of wrapping and tying these boxes.  They have all been in one piece and only one box has even been damaged very much.  Some boxes come in broken open and lots of things lost.  Not the way my honey wraps 'em.  You're doing swell.
Oh, so I'm going to learn to sing am I?  Well I don't know about that.  For a teacher that doesn't like teaching you are undertaking a big and hopeless job.  John Beck gave it up way back in the third grade as hopeless.  I just haven't got what it takes, honey.  I won't promise to be an apt or very enthusiastic pupil along that line, certainly not until you've taught me all the other things that are much more important in my mind.  When I can listen "To the Colors" and "Retreat" as many times as I have the past months and still not be able to tell them apart, I don't have much hope of any improvement.  Afraid I'll always be a dumkoph in music, so don't be getting too enthusiastic about the idea.  If you treat me real extra special I may consent to give it a try.  May, I said.
Honey!  I'd never slap you down, even for that.  I'd be more apt to laugh at you and remain unresponsive.  Wouldn't that be closer to my reaction? I could give you a beating about now but never beat you.  Get what I mean?  I love you, you devil.
You don't need to tell me to look at your picture and ask me if you're sweet. I have your pictures where I can see them all the time.  I look at them and do a lot of dreaming too. Sweet dreams that make me want to get back with you and start living again.  I get along and survive but I'll never live again as long as we're apart.  As for you being sweet, I thought I was telling you that so much it would be getting to be an old thing and you'd begin to take it as a line instead of what I really mean.  I do mean it so much, honey.  I wish I could think of some way to prove it in  a letter but I can't seem to.  You'll just have to accept protestations until such time as I can get within proving distance.  That's a very, very short distance.  Can you remember how I used to try to prove it?  Night, darling.  I love you.
Your hubby.
Norm.