December 24, 1943: “Maybe I’ll be there next year, who knows…”
See/read a typewritten letter written Christmas Eve, 1943
WWII letter, wartime friendship, Christmas letter, Christmas greetings, Carolyn Porter, US Navy letter WWII, Pacific Island letter 1943, 1943 letter from soldier
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December 24, 1943: “Maybe I’ll be there next year, who knows…”

Friday, December 24, 1943

Hi, RAT,

Where the hell have you been? Do you realize that I haven’t heard from you in over two months? You son-of-a gun, just wait till this damned war is over! I’ll fix you! Just wait!

You folks tell me that you’ve graduated from Seymour Johnson Field. Why the devil don’t you let me know something about what’s going on? For all I know, you might be dead. No, that’s asking too much!

What did you ever do about Betty’s Christmas present? All I know is, you said you’d look around the next time you went in to town. That was four or five months ago, and you can’t tell me that you haven’t been in town in that length of time. 

Another thing, what the hell ever happened to that $20.00 I sent you???!!! That ain’t hay, chum(p)! I’ll send you the rest of the dough, if you’ll let me know how much I owe you. Dope, don’t you want the money?

I’m with a guy by the name of Bill Kelly, from San Francisco, and he has been getting so much mail, that I’ve decided to try giving him a little competition. So I have a list of fifty people that I’m going to write to. People that I know pretty well, and would like to hear from. How many do you think will answer? Probably none. Think what writing to fifty people would be like. Good God, the thought of it staggers me. There’s absolutely nothing to do on this damned island, though, I may as well try it. You know me, I’ll try anything once. 

We left New Caledonia on a rather big bomber over a week ago, and landed at this place, or should I say “fire-trap”? Remember how we used to call everything a fire-trap? I even remember how the thing started, do you?

Anyhow, Charlie is supposed to be here, someplace. And here’s hoping I can find him. If he’s here, I will, don’t worry. 

Your folks seem to think you might get home for Christmas. More power to you. If you do, for God’s sake, show Betty a helluva good time for both of us. I’ll be thinking of both of you, and hoping to hell that you make it. Maybe I’ll be there next year, who knows. Although I think it’s impossible, one never knows, does one?

Well, pal, that seems to be the limit for tonight, so I’ll quit!

How about making a New Year’s resolution to the effect of writing to me, at least once every six months?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Your pal,
Dick