[Illustration: ME ON GUARD]




_DERE JULIE_

IN CAMP (Somewhere between the Kitchen and the lunch counter).

Dere Julie,

Well, hear I am in camp after being "rough-housed on the rattlers" for
1 day and 2 nites; I was so shook-up that I'm like a loose button on
an overcoat--no wheres in particular.

The most vivid impression in my bean is our interview in the hall-way
of your flat the night (or was it morning) when we bid each other a
fond fare-thee-well. Never will I forget them tender and loving words
you spoke, also will I remember them words spoke, by the guy on the
second floor, NOT so tender; how was we to know you were backed up
against the push button of his bell? When a boob like him lives in a
flat in wartime he ought to be made to muffle his bell after 10 p.m.
I'm gonna rite the Pres. about this.

Our going away was some deeparture; I'll bet a small piece of change
that every fair young damsel on the block was present--and some
damsels not so young and fair. The old maid who grabbed onto me had
seen about 40 summers and heavings knows how many winters; she was so
crosseyed that if she had pulled a weep the tears would have run down
the back of her neck. It was her last chance to grab a man and believe