Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/o PM San Francisco, California
5 July 1944
Dear Aunty Clara,
Wednesday
Did you say that "The Song of Bernadette" was in technicolor? The one that showed here this evening did not have any colored scenes in it at all. I liked it although it was a very sad. Now I'm sorry that I delegated you to read the book for me instead of reading it myself. Both you and Eleanor read the book but neither of you raved about it although both of you had the same comment that it was a good book. From what I remember of the first few pages and the opening scenes to the picture, it carried out the story rather well. Did that same adherence to the book follow throughout the rest of the picture? Or did they take some liberties with it? And what do you know about the Lourdes Spring? I remember you telling me something at the time and I am surprised I don't remember what it was. Is that a really a true story or is it merely a figment in the imagination of the author, Franz Werfel? I tell you what, if you think I would be interested in reading the book and that it would be worth while sending it to me, please take it out of my library, wrap it up and send it along. Use your own judgment on that matter. You know, as a general rule, just about what kind of story or book I would enjoy and you also have the experience of both reading the book and seeing the picture so you will know whether or not there will be added enjoyment in reading it after having seen the picture first. I never dreamed that that book was ever going to reach such heights when filmed or otherwise I would have read it at that time.
Jennifer Jones has facial features which remind me of you. Have you noticed that? Has Aunty Florence noticed any such resemblance? Ask her? A sidelight on this Jennifer Jones is something I just read today in the "American Weekly" section. It told about this Phyllis Isley being Miss J's real name and being married to Bob Walker for about five years but now that they both hit the big time at the same time, their marriage has cracked up.
By the way, there were no letters today although I did receive three Daily Newses. After all the mail yesterday, it wouldn't be surprising to go for several days without mail now.
I'm having a bit of difficulty writing this letter for people are the most bothersome people. But just thinking about writing a letter these days and the way I used to write letters, makes me think a good deal of myself. Not that I write better, for, on the contrary, I have suffered yet the ease with which one can sit down and pound out word after word in rapid succession without worry very much about the correct form and a bit of ambiguity here or there. To write a letter in the pre-war days was an evening's project while now a letter is something to be written as an event in the normal course of the day with the other activities taking up the greatest share of the time.
It is almost ten-thirty this evening and once again it looks as if a long night is in store for me. Just to write the letters and go to bed would be a simple task but there are other things to do such as taking a shower, cleaning the mess gear for tomorrow's inspection, cleaning the rifle for tomorrow's inspection, cleaning the bayonet and so on. All that will have to be done prior to going to bed this evening for it is a cinch that I'm not going to do that in the morning. This night life is getting me down and I wish that I could again return to an eleven o'clock curfew if not earlier. From now on I'm going to try to do so. It will mean utilizing the spare minutes of the day instead of throwing them away.
By the way, my birthday greetings to Uncle Jack and to Marvin were both mighty putrid and I'm ashamed to think that I had to resort to such kind of greetings after having all the time. As a result, I am taking you up on the suggestion of sending out those three cards for the middle of August. I have already drawn Aunt-Aunt's card and I copied it mainly from the card which the Klicks sent to me for my birthday. It isn't much but it is something different and is a little more like a card ought to be.
The work today was rather steady except for a slight pause when my work depended on a typewriter and there none available. I tried to get started on my special little plan for consolidating various information concerning the officers but was stymied in the fact that Captain Hanton has now held his cards of the men (officers) in his company for two days longer than the other company commanders and the Major, so he is holding up my work which depends upon my having all the cards available. Sometimes I become rather peeved at Captain Hanton for that he has the habit of waiting until the last minute to do something. Of course, there is nothing I can do about that so I might as well forget it and work on something else instead.
Before calling it quits for this evening, I believe I will have to type a letter to Eleanor for she and I have something in common to talk about concerning tonight's picture, I owe her an answer to her letter and something has to come up which makes it imperative that my letter reaches her in the near future. You see, Mike Nyalka and Tommy Campbell think it is their patriotic duty to write home to the addresses of the girls fellows are writing to. So what do they do but get Pat's and Eleanor's address. That way I'm going to have to put her wise to the fact that she may get some sort of fantastic letters.
I do not believe I told you this but the other day I was down to the Service Club for a minute and both Jack and I had our pictures taken. Now don't get excited for they are not what you imagine. For the first thing, they are pictures of our backs since we are supposedly part of an Orientation Class being conducted in the Service Club. We are looking at a map of Europe while a Major is explaining the situation. Why the picture was taken, where it will be printed and all that is something we don't know a thing about and then it would be only of our backs so that there isn't much more I can say about it.
So Carol's timely phone call to Aunty Florence prompted her to try to stick it out at Western Electric, eh? I sure wish she could get something she could be happy doing and without having trouble from her bosses.
Sure, I remember Elmo Tanner and the peculiar way he had of singing that song, "Nola".
I believe I remember seeing this friend of Uncle Joe's, Tony Winkler. He was a rather young fellow (could be in the thirties), not short, rather husky and with black curly hair. Am I right? Down at both Ackermann's and Rathborne there were many evidences of fellows having cut off one of their fingers or more but I hadn't heard of anyone cutting off an entire hand such as that fellow did. It must be a terrible feeling at first to realize that such a loss has been suffered. Just think how a person misses a little tooth when it is "in-the-line-of-a-smile" like mine and that is so insignificant compared to a hand.
The bugs in this office this evening are awful. They crawl down the back of your neck right under the fatigues or they jump into the hair, on the face and all in all are very impolite about the whole thing.
Come to think of it, maybe I won't be writing any other letters but these two for it is now after eleven o'clock and if I did all the things I wanted to do tonight, I'd be up to one or two o'clock. At least one thing is for sure and that is unless I go to the Navy area to see a show, I won't be going until Sunday for the picture they have Friday is with Monty Wooley, "The Pied Piper" and we have all seen that one before.
Did I tell you that Eleanor told me that Marie the redhead was married? Rather interesting for you can recall the comments of the girls when they found out she had a boyfriend and latter on became engaged. They didn't figure her out to be the marrying type and she upped and fooled them all.
So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman