JULY 20, 1944

Dear Bernice:

It's four thirty a.m. I am on nights again, but a far different night duty than I had in Casablanca. I have to be in a hundred places at once. Just now caught a minute. Last night I wrote Eva a note. How do you like my fancy note paper? Bought it when I was in Rome one day. I rode over this bridge (Ponte Umberto I). Feel rather mean, as I bawled my ward man out in grand style for not being on the job. Came back from one ward and found him sprawled in an empty bed in the treatment room, shoes off and snoring away. I hate to bawl them out, but give this fellow an inch and he will take a mile. He is all right now-evidently doesn't hold spite. Am doing nothing these days but sleeping and working. We sleep in the tower of the hospital, as the heat in those tents during the day is unbearable. It's a five-floor climb, but I'm sure is worth it providing they had a 'john'. As Janis used to say, 'Make me so mad I could wring my neck out,' when at ten a.m. had to dress and come down to the second floor. As the French say, 'C'est la guerre.'

Had a letter from Win today-not much in it. They were waiting a move, but she didn't say if they finally settled or not. Said she had just finished an afghan. Helen is making one, too. Australian wool, I suppose.

Haven't heard from you for ages, nor Gladys either. Never heard how the visit came off. Did you receive my long continued letter I sent from my staging post? The last I heard from Aunt Clara was she was going in the hospital. Received a nice parcel from her since coming here. Maple sugar in it, and dulse. It's Gladys' birthday today. Didn't have a card to send her, but did manage a V-mail. I hear the penicillin nurse rattling her tubes, so she will be in here soon and I know it's time I was getting around my wards. So here goes.

A great big cat just appeared here around the door, meowing her head off waking up the patients. Of course I patted her, and that made it all the worse. She is pretty.

Love to all, Frank