April 9, 1942

Camp Livingston, LA.

Dear Wanda,

Just got a great idea. Stamps cost me nothing and another envelope means nothing as I have more than I’ll use in months, anyhow, so why owe you a letter.

Plenty smart, huh?

I took a load of fellows out to one of the firing ranges this afternoon to witness a shooting exhibition by experts, a man and a woman. They were good enough so that I’d hate to have them for in-laws.

The woman could knock 4 clay pigeons out of the air (thrown at the same time) with a pump action .20 gauge shotgun. One of the fellows remarked that he bet the man came home on time anyhow.

One of the tricks the man did was to draw a picture of uncle Sam on a large piece of tin with a .22 rifle. About 200 holes and not one out of place. Even does a V on the hat and put a bow tie on him. Damn good likeness too.

Yesterday it rained all day, but I had to work some. I was on trash detail at 7:30 am but didn’t help finish it.

They sent me over to rake the softball diamond and as it was sprinkling, I took my truck along to sit in. There were a couple of fellows from other companies there, but it was awfully muddy. I went back and told the sergeant that if he thought I was going to rake mud in the rain, he was crazy as hell.

He went back with me to look things over and I didn’t rake. I told him I’d build a drag instead so he told me to go ahead. I built one in the afternoon besides driving about 60 miles in heavy rain, a full afternoon.

I can’t remember anything before yesterday except that it rained and I mean rained! It stopped raining this morning but has started again. It kept up steady for about 36 hours before and things started to get damn wet.

Charlie is still in the hospital but is OK. The Hanner boys girls (the Hatfields?) are still in town and they spent the night with them just as they got in. I think the girls leave Saturday for Florida to see their brother stationed there, for a few days then go back north.

Well, I guess that’s all the gossip from here so will close.

Brother, Wayne.

P.S. Your turn now. Ha ha.