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Sgt Roman F. Klick 36620923
HS 1393 Engr APO 75
c/p SF Cal
8 August 1945

Dear Aunty Clara,

Wednesday

Monday I received your letter of the 26th of July in which you tell of receiving the fancy box of candy. Surely, thought I, the letter of the 27th would be soon in following. I've been anxiously awaiting that letter to find out if all things went as planned. But like a watched pot never boiling, a looked for letter never arrives. Two full days have passed and it's not in yet. It is all very exasperating.

Do you remember years and years ago when you were washing dishes (1940 or thereabouts) in the kitchen and I was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs talking to you about Uranium 235X? There had been a short article about this derivative which was many more times powerful than radium and had enough potential atomic energy to run a battleship around the world on a cube of it only one inch in dimensions. The only trouble was the extraction of it from the ore in quantity and on a commercial basis. They also had added the note that the nation first to wrest the secret would be in a position to control the world. Fantastic. Like something from Buck Rogers. Yet, today, merely five short years later, it is a terrible reality. And we can thank some guiding spirit that it was [not] first perfected by our enemies.

And now that it is in use, it would appear that the Jap nation would certainly surrender; but after seeing the crazy way their minds work, there isn't any too much belief that they will do such a thing. Nevertheless, it should pulverize and weaken Japan to such an extent that any resistance they might have been able to show against a possible homeland invasion will now be on an infinitesimal scale.

Did I mention to you in yesterday's letter that of all those Cicero Life's only two names were familiar and they were the two you had check marked, Pat and Virginia Krametbauer. Other times there are innumerable articles and names which bring back memories. After times like these, you begin to wonder how much you really belong to Cicero with so many of the people strangers to you.

Last night I got off a two page V-mail letter to Eleanor Angsten. And it was about time I got around to answering her letters too. The next time she writes, I'm going to answer that very same evening no matter what. Oh o, just another promise to break. And this afternoon (because it was so beastly hot in the tent, mah deah) I came up to the office after chow and began pounding out a letter to Reuben B. Blumenfeld of the Pentagon Building, New Caledonia. I finished it this evening, three complete pages.

This afternoon we had an interesting visit in the battalion area. It was one of those Red Cross mobile units which stop at various out of the way places to serve an ice cold drink (lemonade) with doughnuts and cookies. That and two pretty Red Cross girls to serve it and make with the small talk. One girl comes from Highland Park Illinois. That was a nice snack, mostly the cold drink, coming in the middle of the afternoon like that.

Speaking of snacks, reminds me of the progress being made on the cookies which you sent me. I'm hoarding them carefully and putting myself on a strict ration. Only when I am hungry in the morning and then at night while writing the letters will I eat them. And at such times I limit myself to a maximum of three cookies. Actually they taste better that way and will last a lot longer. To eat them on a full stomach or to excess, one loses the appreciation for them and does not enjoy them as well as they should be enjoyed. I'm sure they will not spoil since the box can be shut tight free from the air and bugs. Did you have a hard time getting all the ingredients together for the cookies? And, contrary to a science magazine which I read, you are getting better and better at cooking as time goes by if that is possible. That magazine stated that as people grow older they begin to lose their taste buds and the cooks can not get that just right taste in the food anymore because the buds don't taste and the eaters can't appreciate the taste because their taste buds too die out as time goes by. I guess the Klicks never get old, eh?

Here are some incidentals of the day: I got a haircut. And I needed it too. So much so that almost every fellow that passed by made some kidding remark to the effect that it was about time. Hughes doesn't work in his barber shop anymore, as I told you some time ago, because the colonel installed Flips in there. At night he sets up his shop underneath a tree and the electricians have fixed up a light for him there so as long as it doesn't rain, he can rake in the pesos. It is difficult to find an opening when he is free for he gets most of the company trade and that is a lot of haircuts for evening hours. Additional news is that the tent floors are not set yet so we continue to live in the temporary shelters. Once we move into the new locations, we will be far from settled. Then comes the building of identical clothes racks, shelves, and so forth, with a uniform arrangement for such things as web equipment, raincoats, helmets, shoes and so forth. No rest for the wicked.

One thing everyone tries to avoid is a conversation with Captain Bellows. Why? He talks your leg off and your time is killed off royally. Hipp and I were holding a short ten minute conversation and in comes Captain Bellows. We were talking generally of atomic bombs, the possibility of the atomic bomb starting a sympathetic action with other atoms and the world going poof-fini, and about death being part of life. So when he comes to the death part, he launched into a half hour talk about his mother's death. If a person had nothing else to do, it would be okay to sit and talk but with letters to write there isn't time for such things.

Hey, I wonder why I was discriminated against on that furlough home. Today, I personally had to type up approvals for furlough for such of my friends as Sackett (who has preference over all), Mersing, Heiser (the dental's assistant), Otto Reed and McGinnis, the B Co mess sergeant. It is very discouraging. Yet, the war may be over shortly and it is settled for me in my mind to come home after V-J Day now and not before. And with Sackett probably leaving within a month or so, or less, no one else in personnel is going to be getting any furloughs for a minimum of four months.

I was going to comment on the pictures this evening but I left them down in the tent so they will have to wait until tomorrow evening.

Right now it is well past ten o'clock and I will go down to the mess hall for a substantial snack to sleep on.

So-long,
/s/ Roman
Roman