Letter # 41

Jan. 7, 1952
"Hello Kitten,
   Disgusted with me?  I can't blame you since I'm disgusted with myself. I've been so lax in not only my correspondence but everything in general.  We, the cadr'e personel of the Stockade, are being worked until all hours of the night.  I personally had to work Christmas and New Years eve. Reason; a prisoner, or rather 2 prisoners escaped by climbing the wall.  Consequently the major declared that we would guard the wall by walking it in four hour shifts.
   Question, have you received  the ring ?  I sent it by a friend who was supposed to either deliver it in person or mail it from New York. Actually, I was in doubt as to whether you'd accept it or nay, as it resembles an engagement ring."

(#1, I never received the ring...some friend he had!   # 2, I don't understand why he would doubt my accepting an engagement ring from him...all we had talked about since April was being together.)

"Since we're discussing presents, I'm in doubt about your birthdate.  It's Jan. 10th. isn't it?  I'm not going to ask you what you'd like because that would be futile.  You'd never tell me.
   Oh! In case you haven't noticed I've purchased a pen, a Parker 21. It's green.  For some reason I like the color green.  Wonder why.  As you can see though, even a new pen can't improve my penmanship.
   It has been snowing for the past three days and the ground still isn't covered.  The snow comes down in cycles of 30 minutes.  It's beautiful but I dead the melting.  Slop and goo, ugh!
   Everyone at home has written me several times lately, wondering why I don't write.  If you see any of them could you and would you please explain that I'm working and seldom have the leisure time in which to write.
   Charlene, it's useless for me to attempt to tell you how much I miss you.  Words fail me since my vocabulary isn't any citerion by which to judge my feelings for you.  In a simple phrase it means this.  I find it impossible to tell you just how much I really love you.  I know that I don't prove it by my actions but you can believe this,  I love you with all my being.  If you're still there when I return I'll prove it, honest.  It seems I always end up saying the same things.  Since they sound so corny to me, they must really be boresome for you to read.  Nevertheless, everything I've written is true and I'm very sincere about it.
   Before I go any further, answer one question, "Is you is, or is you ain't my babyl."  I'm a wee bit in doubt since I haven't been answering your letters.

  All my love,
  Forever, Bob"