February 28, 1944

Shreveport, Louisiana

February 28, 1944

 Dear Mother, Dad, Kid,

              We moved our positions this morning before daylight. We have everything dug in and won’t have anything to do but operate the radios until we leave. We will probably be her until Tuesday night or something Wednesday. Boy Wednesday is one of those beloved days (payday) liked by all the men. I will have quite a bit coming in this month. We don’t have any use for the money out here. I haven’t been to town for three weeks yesterday – of course we have passed through lots of towns though. I have loaned out, to my buddies this month, $24. The dice games have been quite profitable out here in the field. One night when I was supposed to be walking guard, I won $13.25, a new deck of cards, a brand new pair of socks that was my size, and a five dollar bill in Mexican money. Boy I was hot. “Ho seven.” Ha.

            I got a letter from you and one from Rosalie yesterday, but none today. I have been getting quite a bit of mail since I have been out here though.

            Either one of the A.P.O numbers will reach me, but that 20A will get to me about a day sooner. Glad Mark’s ---- wasn’t serious.

            Say Dad, you’re putting in a pretty good days work - - eight hour shifts. What are you getting out of it? Not just accommodations is it? It would be just like you.

            I’ll bet you sure miss your milk since you have fried the cow up. I sure missed it when I first come into the army but soon got used to it.

            I waist a lot of envelopes but putting pvt. Instead of cpl. It is hard to get used to corporal after being a private so long. An officer will ask me something while I am busy with something else – addressing me as corporal, and I’ll forget and not pay any attention to him. We – us boys – all call one another by name regardless of rank.

            A Texas kid – a boy that I run around with – and I found ourselves a good creek about ¾ of a mile from here. We are going down and take a good bath and de-tick ourselves tomorrow. We have been getting bathes pretty often lately. The dammed ticks will get on you regardless of how you try to keep them off. This kid and I had a lot of fun throwing our bayonets at trees. We are getting pretty good too.

 Chow just blew – I gota go – but quick –

             Floyd will have a hell of a time getting used to the Navy. He will be a big laugh and I’ll bet he is always gripping about something.

            How did Ned ever get $700 out of that plug of his? He would have made good hog feed.

            They have those old time wood burning train engines out here that work around these saw mill. What have the damndest whistle that I ever heard in my life.

            I think I’ll quit writing to anyone except you, Rosalie, and Kenneth. I’m getting tired of writing letters. It seems like that is all I do. I don’t have time to write to anybody else besides you three anyway. Someday I have got to thank Aunt Isabell for that xmas present though.

            Now little Rosalie comes next. I can’t ever forget her.

Love to all,

Your son,
Max

P.S. – I don’t know how in the world you and Rosalie translate my writing.

P.P.S – We are about a mile from a small town, about the size of Thatcher called Hornsbeck.