Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
September 13, 1943

Dear Aunty Clara,

Blue Monday



Well, it looks as if my footlocker is definitely in for revision, redrafting, alterations and the like. When I came back to the tent from work at noon time, I found Censky had constructed a table and a gun rack in the center of the tent. When I questioned him as to placing my footlocker alongside one end of the table, he said no and that the Company Commander's orders were to cut the footlocker down to such a size as it would fit under my bed. Naturally that is going to be a real inconvenience because it is very impractical to lug the locker out from beneath your bunk every time one wants to brush his teeth or get a clean handkerchief, etcetera. Incidentally, at the same time I was told that I will not be able to have this other little affair with the canvas curtain in which I kept such things as I might need at moment's notice. The orders are to remove it but no instructions as to where the articles might be kept. I noticed that Burkard had placed a few nails in the side of the tent and hung them on the nails but that is the sloppiest looking way of keeping things that I can imagine.

I have sworn to take all things philosophically and try to make the best of the worst situations. While eating my noon meal today, the idea suddenly came to me that foot lockers do not necessarily have to open from the top. I could construct it so that the side opened up and by lowering the drawer and cutting a bit off the top, it would then fit under my cot yet at the same time could be conveniently used. I aim to see what I can do in that direction this evening.

But I am beginning to look at things so pessimistically that I fully believe that if I succeed in making a working plan out of the situation now, bad as it is, someone is going to think up some new idea which will nullify my good work. If that happens once again, I think I will give up the fight and just dump the whole shooting matches into my barracks bag and throw out any and all aids to personal welfare.

Telling you all these troubles of mine must be boring you to death but by writing to you about them lets the steam out of me and I can get prepared for the next bump. It's a horrible joke to see life reduced to a series of worrisome trivialities.

Today was supposed to have been a day off for me but it was no soap. There is more work laying around my desk than you can shake a stick at. The payroll has been temporarily pushed aside for work which has been given priority. Then besides the priority work which has come up we have had a bit of work added to the agenda for future days. But should we ever contemplate catching up with this work, the Personnel Section has another job all cut out for it. We must build Lt. Yantis a little house-like tent to live in. By that time it will be payroll days again and so forth and so on for the duration of the war.

I don't know whether I received any mail today or not because, as I told you in yesterdays letter, Burkard has now taken Mersing's place in the Orderly Room and he is no longer the Mail Clerk. T/5 Hill, another likable fellow, has the job now but since he doesn't sleep in my tent I doubt if I will rate that little extra service as before. You see, when Burkard would distribute the mail and we weren't there, he would save Edie's, Mersing's, Censky's and my mail.

I didn't get a chance to wash out my dirty clothes today and have no fresh ones to put on so I guess I'm not going to smell very nice until I wash some out.

And here I go into another hectic week without having answered my letters, ten or eleven of which are musts.

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman