March 8, 1956

Although I know that this letter isn't intended to be, there is something both lovely, and paradoxically, sarcastic about how Dad viewed romance and marriage. My Dad had a tendency to "pronounce" about things, and sometimes, those pronouncements assumed that there were no other possible facts or opinions. It used to drive me crazy, when I was old enough to argue, which was a long time after he wrote this letter to my mother. 

Dear Rosetta:

Today we had winds of unbelievable velocity and the loose sands were driven in blinding clouds about the camp.  There was damage to the paint of many cars and one Office had his windshield completely pitted.

We hear the East is suffering blizzard conditions.  This weather is probably the tail end of North-East storms.

Tonight it has gotten cold--forecast thirty.  I shall go to bed early since the barracks are a little bit chilly.  Besides, I had a drunk on last night and lost some sleep.

Lt. Rosen was in tonight for some advice.  Sees he has the urge to get married.  The object of his affection is a General's daughter from a Jersey camp with whom he has been going for some time. He says she is either cold or inhibited.  This he attributes to a mid-Victorian mother and an authoritarian father. He claims he likes her but does not know if she will be responsive.  So far he had made no advances of any kind.  The girl is 22, teaches grade school and is, he says, attractive and well-poised.

A few words about the Lt.  He is average in height, slight in build, dark complected and boyish, is pallid with ever present dark circles under his eyes; has thick dark hair and a birthmark above his right eye.  He is quite intelligent.  When talking, he has an annoying habit of scratching himself now in one place, now another, which indicates to me that he has a superabundance of nervous energy.  He is obviously a misfit in the Army, though he proposes to make a career of it.

He is frank about his lack of affection for his family, particularly his father, who, he says, "has been a failure all his life."  Father is a school teacher.  He vows he will never spend so much as thirty days at home during the remaining portion of his life.

His education was accomplished in a Catholic College.  He finds Catholics the least prejudiced of all the denominational groups; was never confirmed in his faith and is apparently desirous of being assimilated.

Of course I gave no advice--just listened.  He is going overseas and has that feeling of not belonging.  Marriage appears to be the panacea for this kind of loneliness.  Then, too, he has had a number of dates but based on one occasion when I was able to observe his technique with women, he appears unsure and boyish in his advances and is probably rebuffed more often than not.  This, also, turns a man's thoughts to marriage.

By this summer he will be in Germany where I am sure he will find a little Fraulein who will effect for him a transition from boyhood to manhood. If he takes her as a mistress his loneliness will pass.  If she says,"Ich liebe die," in a husky contralto and runs her fingers through his hair, he will probably marry her.

The days are flying by.  Tomorrow ends another week.  There are only four more to go.  I shall be quite happy to return home.

Received the prints of the baby's picture.  I shall keep them a while and send them home later.  They are cute.  In one of them she looks exactly like me.  Naturally, she is a doll.

There is so little of interest happening lately that I'm running out of things to tell you about.  I hope the little accounts of camp life are somewhat interesting.

I miss you very much and many times long to hold you in my arms and tell you of my love.

Buddy.