August 31, 1944

Dear Sis─

I guess it’s about time I wrote again. We’re still in about the same situation as was when I last wrote. I might say that I feel like a sad shit. I feel tired like a —— and have what they call coffee nerves. Trying to keep awake in the hole at night, straining the eyes and ears and nerves is something I don’t like. We take out black coffee (made from powdered stuff which doesn’t taste much like the real stuff) to keep us awake. I let a fellow take a drink out of mine and I guess it made his hair stand on end because he commented on its bitterness and he never took another shot of it. I guess it was at that, because for three of us, we used enough for 10 guys.

I had a chance for a good long pass a while ago but it turned out disastrously and it ended up with me being about 12 hrs. in Rome.

I haven’t heard from Hal for quite some time and I’m not sure of his address. Incidentally, he’s where I wish I was, France. Well, so long, I don’t and can’t get to feel like writing.


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