May 9, 1942
Camp, Livingston, LA

Dear Eileen,
I got your letter yesterday and thought I might as well answer it now as later.
You must be developing some strong muscles in your legs, doing all that walking.
I’m sorry I forgot about your birthday. I did remember it a few days before, but it slipped my mind and I hadn’t thought of it since. Maybe I can bring something up with me when I come home.
Mom said in her letter that Bernadine was sick so I expected to hear that it was measles. Tell the little girls that Wayne said it was good for them to have measles, and he even had them, left and right.
I went out with a Company this forenoon and Eddie, Leland, a fellow named Bream, and I carried in a couple of men on litters. It don’t make me as tired and stiff now as it did a couple of weeks ago.
I went to motor call at 10:30 and tinkered around the truck until noon.
Yesterday I hauled laundry all afternoon, and then took a load of fellas to town to catch the train to go home.
The Haner boys, Charlie, and I went to one of the recreation halls last night to sing in a choir that we’re trying to organize. We did quite a lot of practicing.
I don’t know whether the quartet will sing much more or not. I’m afraid it’s shot as Charlie is trying to transfer to the MPs. I don’t blame him for wanting to leave this outfit and wouldn’t want him to miss out on a chance to better himself, but it hurts to see the quartet break up after what we’ve planned and done.
Monday we went out, about 30 miles from camp, and practiced our respective jobs then came back in for the night.
Tuesday we went out again and stayed all night, sleeping on the ground with onion skins of snakes, lizards, scorpions, chiggers, mosquitoes and black widow spiders. Some assortment of vermin eh?
The brakes went out on my truck again and I had to drive back in Wednesday afternoon without stopping facilities. My insides were wound up like a something because this is open range and land down here. There are herds of cattle, goats, and horses wandering all along the roads, and I had a load of men to get back to camp safely. They had a few scares but got here safe and sound. I guess I was in the worst shape of any of them. Say, how would you like a pair of cowboy boots with high heels right from Texas? If you want a pair, write and tell me your size and maybe I can get them. I saw some the other day and maybe they have some white ones for girls.
The Hanger boys had one of the fellows that drove his car down bring their instruments down to them so we can have some music now.
That fellow Sergeant Ellis Cleveland from Mansfield, that lives in the tent with me, took his radio home when he went on furlough. Boy do I miss it.
Well, I’ll have to close for now. Tell everyone I said hello and if there’s some words in this letter that you don’t understand, ask mom.
Your brother,
Wayne.