Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 709
c/o PM SF Cal
13 July 1944
Dear Aunty Clara,
Thursday
The dentist ordeal is over for today at last and it wasn't bad at all. A combination of things made it easy for me. For one thing, Heiser came in and stepped up my appointment from 9:30 to 8:30 which didn't give me much time to think about it. Then the day was ideally cool, almost like the rainy, cloudy days in May when I went to Dr. Kolar's. He wanted to really go to work on me and I wasn't minding it at all but the electric lights kept switching on and off so that it was only possible to work on the cavities on the lower left side of my face where the light from the windows could be used to see the work when the lights went off. He filled two of them and by that time he was getting to such out of the way fillings on that side that he could do no more until lights were to be had. He also had several other customers waiting by that time. Just where these fillings are, I do not know. It is a peculiar habit I have had every since going to Dr. Kolar's and that is I don't bother to look at the silver fillings anymore. Captain Stieler said that I stood up under it rather well today and, by golly, I was proud of myself. Evidently, he too remembers that first time in New Caledonia where the mind was working overtime on me. Heiser also said that my Aunty must have told me to sit there and take it.
So that is that until the next time and once again it is off in the far future - seven-thirty Saturday morning on the 5th of August.
When I got back to the office, the mail was already in and I stepped into the Post Office Cage to help Lynd sort out the mail. I received your letter of the Fourth of July and a birthday card from Senor Gonzalez with a dollar bill enclosed in it. His card is more or less on the military manner with a picture of the American flag. It wishes good luck for the duration to someone in the service.
So my Uncle Jack has dressed himself up, fit to kill, in sports clothes, eh? Boy oh boy, how I do wish I could be doing the same things right now. I can imagine he looked alright since he is not so heavy anymore --- for a while he did put on some weight before going off to California several years back.
If Aunt Florence can only stick it out at Western so that when the warriors get back home, she will have or might have enough priority to still stick at the job for a while. Then she can get in on those three week vacations with pay plus all other benefits derived from working at the place. It sure does seem funny to hear places asking the employees to stay after the worker says they are handing in their resignations. In the old days it used to be a race to see who would quit or fire first. How does Aunty Florence get to work? Does she ride the L, the Street-car or walk? That is a nice long walk but okay in the summertime for they let out of work rather early don't they? Just what are her hours?
In your letter you mentioned having breaded pork chops on the Fourth and this very afternoon at lunch we had breaded pork chops. Of course, I wasn't supposed to be biting anything but I hadn't eaten any breakfast so I just had to go down and eat something although I tried not to bite on that side of my mouth at all. Here is a laugh. The dentist must have expected one of the teeth to do something for he asked me about it and I said it didn't bother me at all which made him rather furious. Evidently it was the one which Dr. Cerny pulled out the nerve from those long years ago.
Did you every stop to think that Pat and I may be going to school together in a couple of years from now? Strange, isn't it? Perhaps I may take up that government's offer of a free year of school to finish off the fourth year of college and get a degree and since she will be going to college sometime the years of 1945, 1946 and 1947, there is a chance the war will be over and I'll be going to school too.
There goes the quarter to one bugle --- five minutes fast --- and here comes the end of this letter. I'll see you again at four o'clock or sometime this evening.
So-long,
Roman