Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
August 31, 1943
Dear Aunty Clara,
Tuesday
I hardly think that there will be much of a turn out at the movies tonight because thru some error we have received a picture which was shown once before. The title of it is "Casablanca". It is a good picture but even the first time it was shown many of the fellows had already seen it back in the states. They are hardly going to sit thru a third reshowing.
Jack Molyneaux takes his V-mails out of the envelope and punches two holes at the top of them using the paper punch. Then he get a little Acco fastener and two pieces of cardboard and that way makes a little book out of them. On the cover he has a soldier (him) stamping up and down while tearing his hair. That represents how he looks when there is no mail.
The point is that I keep my V-mails in the envelopes they come in and it is more than twice as bulky that way. I've told him that I think he has a very good idea and that maybe I might do it that way too. I never do though and he keeps asking me when I am going to. Well, the fact of the matter is that I have a sneaking hunch that they may have some forms on sale in the dime store downtown or in some novelty shop which are purposely made for V-mail. Jack sent home to Morristown for a little book like cover the size of the V-mails but couldn't get any and now he is asking me to ask you to look around Chicago. After he spoke to me about it and I had promised to ask you, I began thinking that somebody sooner or later must have hit on the idea of manufacturing little notebooks for that express purpose. If they haven't, you might look around the town as Jack's wife looked around Morristown for something which might be suitable. The lists of Christmas possibles are continuing to mount, eh? Pretty soon there will be so many items on the list I will have forgotten what I told you about and whatever you do send me will be a complete surprise.
I received two letters from you dated the 20th and 21st of August. In one you tell me that my Dad advises waiting for several more years before converting my insurance. He has followed the same line of reasoning that ex-insurance salesman, 1st Sgt. Driscoll, took when I spoke to his about it. Evidently that must be a pretty good policy to follow if two men in the business themselves say so. The difference in the total amount of premiums it is true does not amount to much but in the long run of twenty years that difference adds up into the hundreds of dollars, believe it or not. There still is the clause in there saying that back premiums can be paid up for the difference any time within the five years in order to make the effective date of the converted insurance the same as the original five-term policy had been. The difference will add up to about $150 a year and if the war lasts for three more years that will mean a lump sum payment of around $600 yet it will be worth it seeing as how I will save a couple hundred by doing it. I will have to write my Dad about the whole thing and investigate the different angles.
Sometimes I wonder if its my watch that is to blame or the time the Adjutant gets. I haven't reset it for three days yet today it agreed perfectly with the Regimental time. Who ever tells the time over the phone must take it from their own wristwatch.
During the past day or so I had got to thinking about Uncle Joe seeing as how you hadn't mentioned him for a few days. I was wondering what he was doing etcetera and along comes you letter with the description of the Victory Garden and its products. How do the fellows get out to LaGrange? They must take a streetcar, I suppose. And what about Nerveno's garden?
By the way, I had written to Pat Svolos asking if the fellow in our regiment was a relation of hers and she said as near as she could find out, he wasn't. She did not know him.
You can say "hello" right back to Dr. Kolar for me anytime you see him. That's a standing order for my dentist. He deserves a good "hello."
So-long, /s/ Roman Roman