Letter # 380 June 2, 1944

At Sea
[June 2 - in Mother's hand, in pencil ]
My Sweetheart;
This is the day again.  Just think, 31 years old.  Gosh I'm really getting to be an old man, aren't I?  I guess it can't be helped and anyhow I don't feel a bit different than I did 10 years ago - I think.  I'm still good for a few years.  Believe it?  I'll show you someday and I sure hope it won't be too long either.  I can almost feel you thinking about me honey.  Maybe next year you won't have to just think.  Maybe I'll be with you again.  I sure as hell hope so.  I love you too much to be content to stay away from you for very long at a time. 
I thought I had more to say today than I could get in a V-mail letter, but now that I'm at it, I'm beginning to wonder.  I'm getting to be a hell of a correspondent.  This ship life is so much the same thing day after day that there isn't anything to write about.  I may have to resort to one of my naughty letters or something like that, one of these days. 
I can really understand now why sailors have a reputation for raising hell when they are in port.  For a few days it is nice and interesting and then it gradually gets monotonous as hell.  On land there is always something a little new and different to see, but out here everything is the same all the time.  Sea, sun, sky are all there is to see.  Have been seeing a few flying fish today.  They scoot out from in front of the boat and rising a yard or so off the water, glide 50 ft or so to the side and disappear into the water again. 
It's another rather cloudy day, sprinkles a bit once in a while, but so far it has never developed into a storm.  It's hot as hell too.  A good rain might be welcome.  I think, by this time we might be good enough sailors to take a storm without getting sick all over again.
Gosh, sweetheart, I sure do miss your letters.  It makes you seem so far away.  Oh, hell, you know how it feels 'cause you are going through the same thing.  One of these days we'll both get a whole mess of letters all at once, and then maybe we'll stay put long enough for mail to get through again. 
Well sweetheart, this is the report for today.  I'd like to be able to collect that birthday present you have waiting for me.  I will someday - with interest.  Bye. darling.   I love you and miss you so much, you're my wife and sweetheart. 
your hubby
Norman W. Effinger