January 5, 1944

Westover Field


Hello Folks,

Well, I guess I’ve neglected my writing something awful here lately, haven’t I? Well, I’ll try to catch you up a little.

I guess this will be my last or very nearly my last letter to you until I reach my oversea destination. I am all packed, ready to go. I was supposed to leave this morning but some change was made in orders, and I did not go. I will go, though, soon. I’m ready.

All of our ground forces left Tuesday of this week. The flying crews go to a different place and travel much faster, so we haven’t gone yet. Two of the Squadrons have gone, though. One just passed over the field in formation; a beautiful sight! You know there is four squadrons in my group.

Well, from now on you can address me as Staff Sergeant, written like this “S/Sgt.” I made it the first of the month and I am not like Shack. I want another stripe as soon as I can make it.

I had an argument yesterday with my best pal over a shirt and I guess it will take quite a while for it to blow over and he will speak to me again.

Have you received my A.P.O. number yet? I sent one to you and one to Audrey. Anyone wanting to write me after I reach overseas will have to use it. You can give it to Sabina or anyone else who might want to write me.

I am sending you the bonds back, which you sent me. They will be in a separate letter by themselves. I don’t think they would pass in with all this.

There are so many things I want to say and I can’t find the words to express them. Of course you realize, at least I do, that this might well be my last letter to you. My days might be numbered; at least the sand of life is trickling through the hour glass of time. I don’t know how much as run through or how much is left to run. I am playing a game with the deadly reaper. I’ve beat her a few times already. I can’t beat her forever. She always wins in the end.

I wonder where we will go. We are told officially that we are going to North Africa. Of course, we may not. We do know we are going there first. We leave here, go to Mitchell Field, New York, then to Florida, then to South America, then to Africa; quite a ride. One leg of the flight is 2,100 miles over water.

Well, so long Dad and Mom. I’ll be seeing ya!


First note about Uncle Charles

First letter from Uncle Charles

Second letter from Uncle Charles

Third letter from Uncle Charles

Fourth letter from Uncle Charles

Fifth letter from Uncle Charles

Sixth letter from Uncle Charles

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