Friday, April 10, 1942
Here I am again. Still here too. I figure if I keep writing, as soon as you cease getting letters you'll know I'm on the way. There are a lot of ships in now so maybe by early next week we'll get away. I'm going to stock up on bars of soap etc. tonite so I'll be ready on a moment's notice. The fellows who had a stock before were allowed to take it back to the canteen and get their money back when we were posted back to our stations, so if such a thing should happen again I can do likewise. Things are usual here. The weather has been swell every day nearly. We usually get a six march in the morning now and the afternoon off, but today we did another five this afternoon so my feet are a little sore. Part of it was with gas masks on and overcoats as well, so I sure sweat. They don't know its summer time here and we still wear great coats on parade. Tomorrow I'm going to leave my tunic off and wear the coat over my shirt.
I got your letter yesterday mum, and sure covered everything. So you made a little syrup eh? You sure had a short season. I guess the roads are all dried up now. I can't tell what they are around here as we are in town all the time. Usually take in a show at nite to pass the time. We got a ukelele so now have a little music now and again. A sergeant here is a tenor so we have a little barber shop harmony sometimes. Alex Hill just asked me if I heard about the cannibal who "passed" his brother in the woods, and Staff Hill, our wit, says, "You mean the Wabash Cannibal?"—you've probably heard the song, Wabash Cannon Ball. He is going on with that stuff all the time. We sure are anything but lonesome, but we would like to get onto that bloomin' boat and get movin'. I only hope we stay together.
How is you doin' Berne, [his sister, who is pregnant] do you still have to go through the big gate when you go down to the garage. I guess Ed will be rich now on hides, and Bet [another younger sister] will be starting the summer season with all the boys flocking around at nites—old fords, flashlites, etc. as Paw used to say about Ethel [an older sister]. What could one expect when they didn't invite the lads into the house where they should be.
I wrote Jim again but haven't received any mail from him as yet. I guess it takes a long while for it to come all that distance. We are about 3000 miles I would say. Jackson has got his remuster through and is leaving for Victoriaville, Quebec in the morning. He will like that place about as well as he likes this, I'm thinking. If you have Razz's [Barber] address, will you send it to me. I thought I kept it but it got away from me somehow. The old war isn't too good eh? Some of these days things will start to happen fast and then watch those Nazis run—backwards I hope. Well, I can't talk all nite about nothin'—which is what is here in Halifax, so use lots of ink and save the dough. Aunt Kate left me till I send cash for something to be sent and it will cover it. I signed over $25.00 starting May, I think.