December 25, 1941

Merry Christmas to all of you and I hope by the time this reaches you, you have fully recovered from over-eating. It certainly doesn’t seem much like Xmas for me for several reasons. For one thing, the temperature is around fifty above, the sun is shining brightly and a few hardy roses are still blooming in the garden. I sometimes wonder when we shall see each other again and how much we will have changed in the intervening space. If this scrap lasts another two years and we still haven’t seen action, I’ve made up my mind to take French Leave and come home for a visit, as, by that time, I think I will have paid my obligation to society.

We had a boisterous smoker last night, during which we did our best to drown our thoughts, and for the most part succeeded. My head is still a little foggy, but I really don’t feel as bad as I might under the circumstances.

I will almost feel like a stranger when I come back, as I know you will have changed, particularly my young sisters. I still have my brass R.C.A. shoulder badges and I intend to send them to you to keep, because we are no longer allowed to wear them.

Well, Mom, I had a lot to say when I sat down to write but I can’t just seem to put my thoughts into words. I do miss you all terribly and feel pretty low today, but suppose we all get the blues sometime. I will close now and get ready for our one and only 11:00 a.m. parade, which is due in twenty minutes.