As I sit here with your pictures before me, I can not help but be happy. And to make me even more so, I have four of your letters before me, dated from March the 24th to 30th. If you write so often, you will have me spoiled and I will expect a letter every day, for your letters are such joy to me. The more I get, the more I want. If I should continue getting so many letters from you, I’d begin to believe you care. Ha.
In all seriousness, Alice, I do love to get your letters. There can never be too many of them. But if I didn’t get them, I would still believe you care; for I want to believe it so much that I can’t doubt you. The photograph came in the last mail. It decorates my bedside table in plain view, so I can see it anytime, day or night. The more I see it, the more in love with you I become.
I had a very happy Easter, considering all. I had expected a very drab one, so I got quite a surprise. The night before, we had gone about ten or twelve miles to see a movie. (That is, four of my friends and I). We went through some pretty nippy night air and over some of the roughest terrain you could imagine. But the show was such a new one and such a good one that we all of us decided it was worth the trip. It was “The Crystal Ball” with Goddard and Miland. Then Sunday we got the mail we had been waiting for. Poor me, I only got twenty letters. Ha. To make the occasion a greater treat, there was your photograph. So at the last, we went to church services. So, we did not have a dull Easter. In fact, I felt the Easter spirit more than ever before in all my life. The chaplain told us once that when we got to feeling low to call on our imaginations. Maybe we did, for the day that meant so much to me certainly would not have been enough to break the monotony at home.
Now, my love, about that letter of propaganda that I mentioned. You seemed to take it rather hard. Please don’t think I believed on bit of it. I even thought it was funny. Whoever wrote it should have known me better. Nothing short of your own lips could convince me that you were not honest as the days are long. If I were even easily persuaded (which I am not) then I would not heed an unsigned letter. But, now, hold your hat, as well as your temper - I got another one. Ha. This one said that I should have enough experience by now not to be too sure of myself. So if you consider that statement, you, as I, will probably have some idea of the source of the propaganda. I am not going to say where the letter was post marked, for you may draw the wrong conclusion and accuse the wrong party. The last letter had conspicuously changed in handwriting, though there was a very close resemblance of the first. It was signed “the she-” (something or other). The last word was practically illegible. so let’s just say it was “cat”.
If I have figured the right person into this, it is some one who has seen you, but doesn’t know you. It would seem that, shall we say, “it” doesn’t want me to be happy at any cost. If you figure out for certain just who sends such trash, send them a postal card and tell them their plan has failed, and if they will send a Dime Western Magazine, I would come nearer to believing the fantastic stories therein. For such letters take up space of letters that I want to get. I can not enclose the letter because of the censor. It would double his work as he would have to censor it, as well as mine. Besides we can’t send letters written on both sides of the paper, I hope this will not affect you as the other one. For they really can’t hurt you and it gives me something to do. I can play detective and try to solve the mystery of “who is the villain”. Will I solve it in time to save our little Nell? Does the villain leave a clue? Continued after I get the next propaganda. Ha.
Now, seriously, My Dear, if you go letting this have any effect on you, I will not let you in on the next “thrilling episode of Who’s Yehudi?” You are the past, present, and future for me. Don’t ever say such things as you said in the last letter about you were trying to be good enough for me. It makes me feel like such a heel. If there is anyone not good enough, it is me. But I love you and am trying to be the kind of fellow you want me to be.
If you recall, there was once when you yourself told me not to darken your door again, but it didn’t stop me from loving you. It only stopped me from seeing you. So if you couldn’t drive me away, then how do you suppose anyone else, with loose propaganda or any other way, could do so? As long as you are there waiting for me, I will be striving to come back to you.
You gave me your word of honor, but I did not ask for it. I do not need a word of honor where you are concerned. All your words are words of honor, as far as I’m concerned; for I love you so. This war can’t last always. Someday, with the grace of God, I’ll come back to you. Then we can truly say our love has been tried and found true.
I must close for now, since I guess you may be tired of reading this.
One who loves you,
P.S. The letter you mentioned came through without a postage stamp. I got it first.