Nov. 1, 1945

 

Nov. 1, 1945

      My Darling,

      Happy Halloween Sweetheart.  I’d have sent you a card or sump’n only I didn’t find out about it being Halloween until afternoon.  More darned surprises.  For Pete’s sake, tomorrow’s November!  By Golly!  

      To be absolutely Franklyn I was eager to get your letter.  However, it did come at the best moment.  Things were really black today.  Knew it was gonna be a bad day as soon as I woke up.  Things kept goin down until your letter came this afternoon and then they climb back up.  My little prophecy about the next months being tough is coming true.  Our squadron is being transformed into a photo recon outfit.  More breaking up and reassembling of crews.  They’ll put a lot of men into a hat and then draw to see who’s what.  This’ll make everyone discontent.  Then our date was changed.  Of all the damn dates to pick from , they chose December 1st.  This doesn’t mean that we’ll leave on the first but we’ll be packed and ready to go to 24 hours after the first.  There should be something more definite than this within a week.  Our becoming a completely independent squadron ( were out of the 485th B.G.) changes all the previous policies so there isn’t anything at all about Thanksgiving.  It depends on our new C. O. , the amount of new training we’ll need and our new shipping date.  The whole damned outfit is a lot of words that can be changed on a second’s notice.  

      The financial situation is (as usual) rough, but not impossible.  If I can get in ten lousy minutes of flying time I can draw flying pay for October.  Right now I’ve got 24.00 but everything is paid up to date so the flying pay would be clear.  If you don’t mind taking a chance on being disappointed later on, would you want to find out about all of the fares and schedules so if we can do it we’ll be all set?  I want you to do this because I think it would be so wonderful if we could make it.  You have the final say so.  Maybe ole Lady Luck would smile on us.  What do you say Honey?  

      You don’t want me to pull any punches do you?  OK. If I could get out of the Army tomorrow it would be the answer to several prayers.  I’ve thought it out several times and figured out all the angles.  It probably would be sensible to stay in for awhile and get everything cleared up.  But day by day I’ve begun to hate the Army more and more.  I’m getting ornery, unpleasant, lazy, irritable, neglectful, thoughtless, and less and less ambitious.  You’re right about it being rough on us if I get out of the army right away and we have to wait, but I’d rather that than me stay in.  You see there are things I’ve got to learn and capabilities to figure out.  I’m not one of these newspaper psychological cares or anything like that but there will be a re-adjustment to make.  For three and a half years I’ve been looked after.  Someone has said when to eat when to sleep what to wear and how to act, when I can be free, where I can go, what time to do this or that, what I’m expected to accomplish, and most everything else to do with living.  I’ve got to get used to being on my own.  I’ve got to get used to doing and saying and thinking things and even acting differently.  I’ve got to discover myself again.  Another thing, you couldn’t possibly love freedom more than I do.  I’ve felt it completely a couple of times.  I think that we’ll be able to feel it together pretty soon.  Finally there’s you.  You’re the most important thing in my life.  Just being able to call you and hear your voice is swell.  I feel that to be with you is much more important than any problems that could arise.  That, Darling, is the way I feel about it.  Sure are a lot of “I”s in this letter.  What day think about it all?  

      Time out whilst I dash over to the M hall and get the T. Bottle filled with (three guesses).  Dogonne it how can two kids drinking black coffee from a thermos bottle at two in the morning on Palm Beach be so wonderful?  

     Now comes my ideas on sex.  Once again no punches pulled.  Mind you, I don’t claim I’m right.  

      I think it’s necessary.  Very much so.  When you feel that way there’s nothing else to satisfy that desire.  It is important, but then so is kissing important, so is holding hands or smiling or laughing or crying  or saying things or even just looking at each other.  Sex is a part of a full and complete life.   But whoever says it’s the most important thing in life is wrong.  He has to be.  Any man can do it to any woman.  I don’t know if the urge or desire or satisfaction is as great but the action and re-action is the same.  Let’s jump to you and me.  We’re to be married and live together the rest of our lives.  If sex were the most important thing it wouldn’t be necessary to have marriage or for two people to remain together.  It would be like eating or drinking.  Anyplace anytime or anyone would do.  That can’t be right. The way you smile and and laugh and sing and talk and think and act - they way you sigh whew when your happy or grow silent when you’re mad  - the way you look in slacks - the million things that are you alone wouldn’t count.  How could that be right.  So to boil it down - It’s like a jigsaw puzzle.  It takes a lot of different pieces to make a complete picture.  I don’t know if all of this makes sense.  I know that I’d rather have you without sex than sex without you.  

     That ain’t all.  Got a lot more to say.  

      My ideas on the frequency of coitus (that’s the tech term) are as follows.  

     Once while I was in Tucson I found a place that sold cognac by the half pint bottle.  I bought a bottle and took it back to the barracks.  Unbelievable as it may sound, it lasted two weeks.  It was always there, all I had to do was reach for it but I just took a drink when I wanted it.  I could have guzzled it all in one evening if I drank it because it was handy.  If I always had a bottle of brandy around and I got in the habit of drinking it regularly, it wouldn’t taste as good.  So be it with sex.  If you do it out of desire rather than habit it’s bound to be better and more enjoyed.  I guess when two people are first married the first couple of weeks or even months are something new so the frequency is bound to be greater, but after that I feel it’s got to be desired by both.  To me the most important thing about it is that both people are fully satisfied.  This is usually harder for the woman.  When two people who haven’t had any experience outside of each other get married, they should be able to work that out.  I believe that the incompletion rather than lack is what would break up a marriage.  That’s where reading or medical science can help if it was necessary.  Another thing that would determine the frequency is the living conditions of the people.  It’s again like a drink of water.  Every one can enjoy it.  If people have nothing in life due to poverty or lack of ambition or personality or whatever, they must have something to release their emotions.  This may sound silly, but let’s say it’s a good thing.  So is going to a dance or seeing a show or playing tennis or playing the piano or collecting stamps or reading or having guests or going visiting or taking care of a home or having a steady job, or having a car, or buying a new dress or suit, or spending a couple of dollars foolishly.  They’re all good things.  If you can do some of those things and enjoy them then you are not limited to one or two ways of releasing your emotions.  When you haven’t got coffee you have to drink water.  When you haven’t anything else left in life to enjoy sex becomes the one thing.  So Ma’am when sex becomes the most important thing in life then life isn’t very important.  And that by Gadfry, is the end.  Whew!!

      I always feel that I don’t write things the way they’re really meant.  Lemme know what you think about the workings of my Swiss cheese brain.  Holy Ike, I’m plumb worn out.

      Leave us hope and pray that you are a faker!!

      Seems that every day at least once the radio has played “how deep is the Ocean “.  That really hurts.  

      Hey comes Sat. At the post theater , “Don’t Fence Me In” starring none other than Roy Rogers and his wonder horse Trigger, king of the cowboys or something.  I’’ll probably cry all through it.  Somehow or other D.F.M.I. and R.R. seems to clash in my head.  Like Spike Jones playing Clare De Lune, Holy St. Peter, what a horrible thought.  That would be the end.   

      My goodness haven’t I been a wind bag tonight?  Tis time now for the nice clean??? Cool??? Sheets???

      I must rest because I am old

      And the pot bellied stove grows cold

     Better put some coal on

     I love you and miss you all kinds.

      All my love always

      Ray