January 2, 1944 Sunday

Dear Bunny,

It's been a long time now since I last wrote to you. I didn't write on Friday or Saturday, and I'm sorry because when I don't write so many things pile up that I want to tell you that it is hard to remember them all. First, Honey, Happy New Year. And I hope it is for us more than anything. Second, I always love you whether it's a good year or not; and tho we'll have a real wedding day that will mean a lot to us, today will have a very special meaning to us any year. This is the day we chose to get married, and from today on I can't help but feel that we are a little closer to being married than if we hadn't had this day. [Note: Wallace and Marjorie had planned to marry on January 2, 1944 but had to change their plans due to Wallace's posting].

We had a big week-end in Louisville that was a poor substitute for having you. Tom, Jim Doon, Paul Lawler and I got a hotel room at the Seelbach Hotel, as I told you over the phone. We ate excellent meals at all the best places, played ping-pong at the U.S.O., and spent luxurious hours in our room sleeping, ordering things from room service and drinking in prescribed officer and candidate style in the privacy of our boudoirs. Scotch and rum flowed rather freely and led to some late and intellectual discussions. It's all there was to do, and made a good break from school routine. We slept until noon on Saturday, and one on Sunday.

Very nice telephone call we had, wasn't it? By far the best we ever had over such a distance. You seemed very near and for a while I forgot that you weren't talking to me at my house. The telephone is a wonderful invention. Hearing you so plainly was worth anything, Hon.

I spoke with Wig tonite and he says that he was officially notified Friday that he was no longer a candidate, and would be here only until the adjutant general's orders came thru for him – two weeks, maybe. I didn't know that when I called you. It's a damned shame. Wig would do very well at this type of training. We have been around together an awful lot, too, and it will be tough to have him go. He has no idea where, but we'll watch and see if he gets a furlough, etc. It may be a hiint on what will happen to many of us. However, he hasn't left yet, so you mustn't count him out. I left the 10th Battalion on paper many, many times at Wheeler. Two weeks is a long time around here. Guess this is the last stop for the old N.H. gang, tho. Even those that stick thru will be scattered when we graduate.

We got paid Friday, and I got $54.85 in cold hard cash. Paid Tom $5.00 for the fatigue clothes I got. The Hotel and week-end cost about $15.00. That seems astronomical now, but that's the way it figures. Lucky there are no more holidays coming. I'll enclose $20.00 for you to pay for the phone call with, squander whatever you want, and put the rest in our account. That leaves me about $15.00 for the month of January. Don't imagine I'll be spending much. Altho the same four of us are going to try to see the Ballet Russe in Louisville next Saturday, barring gigs, exhaustion and lack of transportation. Louisville gets top flight musical attractions.

I've got a couple tank pictures and the marriage license that I will put in another envelope. We drove these last Friday and will drive them some more tomorrow. Also servicing and crew jobs. There are 4 men in the light M5 and the M4 has 5.

I haven't had a chance to finish my 1943 diary yet, but I plan to soon. My main plans for 1944 are 1) to marry you and 2) to keep thinking straight in spite of the environment and if possible to learn some more things that I can use later on. It's hard to keep on learning (other than the G.I. way), but it's one thing I don't want to stop doing. If my fondest dreams come true, the war would end and we would be able to live together while I finished up college. I guess that's asking quite a lot, but I have put a lot of faith in 1944. Hope it comes thru for us beyond my two minimum requirements.

I love you very, very much,
Wallace

[Separate sheet]
To you alone I will make the horrible confession that I don't know the town in which my father was born. So I haven't included it in my half of the license. If you are a diplomat, please find out. I don't know, I just don't know. I guess the best idea is to have this thing filled out, and as soon as rumors of my getting home start, to push it thru. Carry on,
Love,
Wallace