Letters: May 1, 1952

    This letter should reach you Saturday or Monday and I’ll talk to you on Sunday--which is something that I haven’t figured out but something I do know is that I miss you something awful and love you terrifically more and more. Barbs--I get a little giddy inside when I think of you--maybe some people would think that’s kind of silly but I don’t and I do have the feeling. Have you ever woke up on a Sunday morning with a perfectly swell day ahead of you, and the contented feeling that you get? Well, that’s the way I feel, thinking about a perfectly swell life ahead of us--’cause that’s what it’s going to be. So I have this glow and a giddy feeling with an overall contentment which is the result of being in love with you.
    On this next weekend--I’ve sent a letter to this hotel requesting rooms for Friday and possibly Saturday nights. I didn’t know whether you wanted to spend Saturday night there in Monterey or not--and drive to San Francisco Sunday. I don’t know how you plan to get to Salinas but possibly the Bus would be better. Get an express straight through to Salinas.
    The temperature today reached 100° and it’s goddamn hot. I started to go out into the sun but started seeing spots and decided to stay indoors. After the boys revived me they informed me that the spots were bugs flying formation after having filed a flight plan. Ha-- I then considered giving the boys a little close-order drill as punishment but they talked me out of it by suggesting a pot of coffee, and now -- Seriously hon everything’s real swell. I received your real cute and sweet letter and I’ve read it toxan times. Bye for now and I’ll see you real soon. Say hi to Shirley and Peter and be real good because you’re my honey and you mean everything in the world to me.

Letters: April 29, 1952

    I wanted to write last night but I was so tired I didn’t even undress when I got in--just hit the bed and passed out until seven this morning. Got in about seven-thirty too. On the way down from your school I stopped off at Peg’s [my father’s younger sister] and had a cup of coffee. Decided not to go back the way I intended because it was longer so I went back the same way I came up. This morning I had to report to the Colonel and he asked me what had happened. I decided the straight approach was best and told him I had gotten engaged and needed to spend the extra day. I thought sure I’d be confined to camp for the next six years or so but he came up with this beauty. “Believe it or not LT., the Army does have a heart occasionally, so congratulations.” He shook my hand and that was it. I’ve been in a fog ever since.
    Barbara, why aren’t you here? How do you expect a man to work or even fly a plane with you on his mind. I even debated driving around the block after I left you just to say hello and kiss you again but maybe Mrs Cannon would think I was skoshi demented. [“skoshi” = Korean for “a little bit”]
    Did you get to wave your ring around like you wanted to and what were the reactions? I’d still give anything if I could see you do it. You don’t know it but you had such a cute expression on your face when you were showing the ring this last weekend. Every time you did and I looked at you I loved you more.
    So hon--I’m going to write your mother and to Virge today to say hi etc. Write now please. Are you feeling okay? And if you need anything just holler. Bye for now, and I love you real great big.
P.S. 74 days left!
P.S. jr. Toxan too [written arrow pointing to “love”, Japanese for “very much”]

Letters: April 21, 1952

    Received the card and your letter today and they were real cute too. Got in this morning around two or so from a very pleasant weekend. Spent Saturday and Sunday morning with Pete and Marge (had a penny-ante poker gram with them and another couple Saturday eve and lost the staggering sum of $1.30.) I was very rash I’ll admit. Anyway Sunday P.M. I went down to Newport Beach and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening (to nine-thirty, when I had to leave) with your parents. It was real swell. We had several small libations, of the old-fashioned variety, talked a great deal about you and you and me and then went over to the Yorbas for dinner. Mrs. Yorba, Marge and Bernardo plus five, and Jack were there and we had a real sweet time. Incidentally, this talk with your parents and I had brought out a few things of which your Mother and Father--and myself are still in the dark. But your mother said she had written you a bunch of questions to answer and if you didn’t get around to answering them, would I find out the answers and give them to her when I see you this weekend. But hon, she would rather you tell her, I know.
    This week will go real slow for me until Friday comes around and then it will whiz by--oh yes, I’ll have to drive up now because the 28th and 29th of this month, that’s Monday and Tuesday after the weekend coming up--I have to attend a two day technical staff conference for air officers at Camp Cooke which is down near San Luis Obispo, and I don’t have to be there until noon of the twenty-eighth. Swell huh. I can even drive you back to San Fran.
    So all for now sweet. I’ll see you Friday evening in time for dinner, and I have a surprise for you--write soon please and take care of yourself real good. I love you Barbs--more than anything.

Letters: April 17, 1952

    Hi Meathead, I feel a whole great big bunch better now that I’ve talked to you. To be honest I was feeling down in the dumps and real blue because I was sort of lonesome but now it’s okay. In fact the sun seems to be shining and it’s eight in the evening too. And I’m not affected by the heat either.
    There were so many things I wanted to ask you over the phone but never got around to it. Like how was your schooling doing. You said you talked to Dr. Furlong (right?) but I didn’t understand the rest. I did hear you tell me you loved me but I was waiting to hear that and when you said that everything else was pushed to the background and I was in a mental fog just thinking about it. I daze quite often these days--because I’m so happy.
    Your idea of my flying up is okay and I still may do it but it’s dependent on a lot of things. One is--is this fellow goes up to Oregon and decides to come back with me then the driving back won’t be bad at all. Honey, I’d drive to Tokyo to see you for five minutes.
    I told you over the phone that I’m going to Los Angeles to see Pete and Marge Saturday and then over to your folks for Sunday. I have to get out of this camp on weekends or I’d spin, crash, and burn if I didn’t. I would leave Friday evening but we have a command inspection Sat. morning no less and my section is on the agenda. I think I’ll have the airplane salute the general by lowering one flap or wigwag the rudder.
    I miss you an awful lot Barbs and I love you more and more. It won’t ever stop. Bye for now.

Letters: April 14, 1952

    My Darling, The minute you walked out to the airplane I started getting lonely. I watched the lights of the plane until they disappeared and I was lonelier than ever. I guess I’ll have to marry you so you can’t leave again. Incidentally I helped the pilot take off. I didn’t think he was doing such a good job so I took over. Kind of silly huh?
    I called Mom today and she was going to call you this evening. She was real happy, as I knew she would be. She really likes you. I’ve made all the arrangements necessary for me--meaning I can get a leave--even thirty days--in July. Also called up Sixth Army Hqs. and told them what was going to happen. They did have on orders for instrument school at Tulsa, Oklahoma for June but set it back until our honeymoon plus a few weeks. It will be the latter part of August before I have to go. By the way, do you know anyone in Tulsa? I don’t.
    I got back to Camp Irwin okay but a little sleepy. Got in about one o’clock. How is your schooling affected by your absence? I hope you can make it up but don’t worry about it too much. I have a pretty good job lined up for you with good working hours, good pay, and the conditions will be superior. You can pick out the uniform yourself, and the vacation schedule is all-year around. --mocka-mocka-joto--
    I guess you and Mom have made the arrangements for you coming down to San Jose. I’m going to try to get off early enough so that I’ll be there early in the evening.
    Okay hon, all for now, and please write right away and let me know how you are and if you got home okay and how school is and etc… Say hi to Shirley for me. Bye for now.

Letters: March 24, 1952

    Hi Princess, I’m gazing through the window at three oil derricks, a wide expanse of Torrance, and two airplanes that must have been used by the Wright Bros. in their first experiments. It’s a real balmy day--about 75° and I can hardly keep my eyes open. As soon as I can get off I’m going to grab something to eat and then sleep for about twelve hours--My plane didn’t leave the airport until almost five o’clock and I got into L.A. around seven. I had just a half hour to eat, change, and get ready for my flight--which I made but I don’t know how. It’s late afternoon now and I wish you were here so we could go to the beach. It’s a perfect day for it, and supposed to be tomorrow too but tomorrow I have a flight to Camp Roberts so I won’t enjoy the So Cal weather.
    The minute I got into the cab I missed you, and it got worse until now I’m moaning around here and--a guy just offered to take me out for nine holes of golf--and I refused.
    There was a request invitation waiting for me saying Thursday evening I am, with my lady, expected to make a social call on the Commanding General, to meet, socially, he and his lady. Well, since my lady isn’t here I shall go it alone but I wish you were here to meet them with me. He’s a two-star general.
    I received a letter from Mom saying she would send the dress and hoping you would come down or give her a call.
    Gee I’m tired hon--really beat. I think I’ll have a brandy in about ten minutes.
    All for now--And dammit, sit right down and start composing. Bye for now.

(Written in pencil on the back of the envelope in my mother’s hand:
The Scotch Broom looks like transplanted buttercups,
The cold stately Calla Lilies are refusing to be tossed about
The roses have long since given up, they let their petals be windblown)

Letters: March 18, 1952

    I really meant to write last night but I had a flight to San Diego and had to spend the night. Anyway you should get this around Thursday (I hope). The setup down here isn’t quite like I hoped it would be but it’s not too bad. There is quite a lot of flying and that I don’t like--though it’s easy. I’m staying at the BOQ at Ft. MacArthur because it’s too far to drive to LA every night and back again in the morning. At least I’ll stay here until you come down over Easter. Which reminds me--I miss you awfully much. In fact so much that I’m never going to let you out of my sight. Not in a domineering way, but nice. I’ll get to see you Friday and I can’t wait. (Does this begin to sound a bit corny?) Lost my head--
    I know you want to hear it again, about your folks, so here it is in capsule form. I think they’re wonderful, I really do. They made me feel relaxed immediately and seemed interested in what I had to say. And Hon, they were really proud of you and what you’ve accomplished. And your Dad did say that he didn’t care if you taught school or not but that it was a good thing you had a credential on which to fall back in case of an emergency. He didn’t say what the emergency might be. But they were really swell people and I hope they liked me a whole lot--inasmuch as I’m deeply in love with their daughter. Incidentally I found out where you got the nickname of Tommy. So--
    I don’t know whether you have anything planned for this weekend, and if you do, as long as it isn’t too strenuous, okay, I would like to go to a show one evening ‘cause I’ve never been to a show with you...all my friends down here are looking forward to meeting you.
    Okay--Bye for now--I’ll see you Friday night sometime and wait and have dinner with me. I love you.