June 8, 1944 Thursday

Dearest Honey,

Another letter today! I love them, they make you feel so near. I feel just the way you say—very warm and contented inside. Almost like the “mella glow” that Frankie (Sinatra) Brown claims comes from a Manhattan or two. Only much deeper and better.

The grapevine got a very bum steer about this port of debarkation business. Camp Barkeley is far away from any coast, and is noted for its Medical Administration O.C.S.—the closest male approach to a WAC organization! Moreover, there would be the whole 12th division to move out if I should go—I’m in a line outfit now. And we must be near water before we can go. So your scares are a mole hill now.

The situation is this, Bunny. The 12th has been activated a long time but it has never been able to pass the tests required for overseas—has a reputation for flunking tests! It should have been ready long ago, but it isn’t. Now it is trying to round into shape, and is in a semi-alerted state. That doesn’t mean a great deal, tho, many outfits have been fully alerted for over a year. We have an A.P.O. number, 262, I think, but few prospects of using it. We’ll have to move in the States to a port of embarkation, first.

Probably I will not be permanently with the 12th, but train with it at least 3 months and then become good replacement material for some other outfit.

Finally, I will hit a port of debarkation when I get back. My first port will be one of embarkation!

There is nothing morbid in the thought of going overseas, Bunny. I think it will come, and that is why I am so anxious to be with you now. It’s just another thing to look at squarely. Don’t imagine things about it. Now that the initial steps of the invasion are under way, we can be optimistic about the length of the war and also future casualties in it. We’re not in this heaviest part of the war, anyway!

In coming to Texas, we are answering the problem of my going overseas.I don’t believe I’d have you come down if I thought wasn’t leaving in a few months. Conditions are far fro good here—not sordid, but crowded. It’s hard to find what we want, at a reasonable cost.

However, I have never been more sure of anything that that it will be by far the best thing for us to do. Even figuring the highest costs, we can just afford it—and we can easily do better than that. Here is the most expensive way we can live—you in a hotel, eating out all meals. We can afford that if we have to, but I know we won’t have to long. That is the way we must start, tho. I have just about given up trying to get a place without you here—none of the agencies will help unless you are here, and I am not able to be in town mornings when there are private openings, or when the Public Utilities is open. I have a good inside tip on how to use them, but it works only in the a.m. Here is my plan then: You can work at arranging your Keene affairs and getting most of our things ready to ship. Make all the plans you can for the trip down—pullman cars and reservations where possible. Don’t worry at all about the trip. Train riding is only very monotonous and has nothing in it to be concerned about. Carry as little as possible with you for luggage and see if you can keep clean. You can’t, but it passes time to try. You’ll see how easy it is, even for a lady alone. You’ll meet lots of them.

When you leave, ship your clothes and personal necessities only, and carry what you need for the trip and a couple of days. Pack our other things and put them at my folks or anyplace where they can be shipped easily when we need them. Take plenty of money for the trip and be sure that what is left in the bank is available to us at short notice.

The best date for you to arrive will be Sunday, June 25. That Saturday (24th) evening is O.K., too, but Abilene will be very crowded; but aside from that it is better than Sunday. (The Jeffersonian has no pullman cars, only reclining chairs. Pullman is better.)

Let me know when you plan to arrive and I’ll meet you or bust. If I bust take a cab to the Hotel Wooten where I will have reservations for you. I’ll meet you there just as soon as I can after that.

When you get into the Hotel sing out “Wahoo” three times just to get into the spirit of things, and to let them know that you’re here, dadgummit, and intend to stay as long as you want and don’t care who knows it.

Then I will orient you on the ways of Abilene and the layout of the city. After that, we will be together very often; have nice long Sundays together, most every evening and nite; and really be man and wife! We’ll have lots to do. First we’ll get the agencies looking for a miserable little room, and then find a nice bright one by ourselves. That done, and we have a home. Big step. Then we’ll find a place to prepare meals—maybe that 2-room apartment you dreamed about, or in the kitchen of the house our room is in. Then we’ll be saving money. Then we’ll get some of our own things down and start Living together in the way we dream of.

How’s that? Makes me feel good. And we can do it. I’ve got $130 in my pocket right now that will go us until next pay day—July 1—when I should get $225 or thereabouts. You bring a substantial sum, too, just as a reserve.

I love you, honey, very, very, very much. Know that?
All yours, always,
Wallace
P.S. Let’s wait and celebrate our birthday together! Seeing you is the best thing I can think of for a gift.
Wallace loves you.