Sunday, September 24, 1944
Dear Mom, Dad and Paulie,
Ta! Ta! Fanfare! Drums! Cheers! HOORAH! I’m coming out tomorrow!! ( at least that’s what the major said, but you know the major). He comes up to me and sees me swinging my splint and twishing my leg etc. and says “If we don’t take him out, he’ll fall out.” As he walked away he said, “We’ll take you out tomorrow.” And I yelled “TOMORROW!” The old boy turned around and laughed as did everyone else. For the next five minutes I gave the best imitation of a jig that a person in traction could do. If the major lives up to his previous actions I won’t come out tomorrow, but I don’t care, any day this week will do. After 11 weeks, a day or two doesn’t matter. Probably I’ll get a body cast (covers my entire leg and continues up to my hips) oh well, I don’t care, at least I’ll be FREE- To a certain extent.
I have the masts and hull complete on my clipper ship, with just the rigging to do. Did I say “just” the rigging? That’s the hardest part of the whole ship.
Such darn crazy weather. We sweltered a few nights ago, and froze last nite and this morning. It’s just right now tho.
That’s all now,