August 17, 1942
Camp Livingston, LA

Dear Mom,
I’ll try to answer your letter now while I can still read it, it will probably soon turn yellow from age.
We are going out on a problem tonight and coming back in Wednesday afternoon. We go out again Thursday, but don’t know how long it will be for.
We are pretty sure to go on maneuvers sometimes next month, but don’t know when they will be. I hope we get back up north, I’m tired of this.
I’m glad you and the baby are OK, the reddish hair and gray eyes are all right, but let’s hope he doesn’t have my disposition.
Wanda isn’t the only one who thinks the time has passed quickly. Here, every day is so much like the one before that you can’t keep track of them. It doesn’t seem that we’ve been down here for six months, even if we are tired of it.
My friend Corporate Eno is in the hospital having a cyst cut off his spine. He went over last Wednesday of his own accord, but I haven’t had a chance to go see him.
Saturday they kept me busy and I don’t mean, perhaps. I made four trips to camp Beauregard, one to town and several around the camp, taking me until about 6:30. I didn’t mind having to work on my off afternoon as I got out of all my inspections in the forenoon.
I just happened to think, I need flashlight batteries and they may pull out any time so I have to close and hike for the canteen. Sorry, will write soon.

Love to all,
Wayne.