December 11, 1941

Dear Mother and Dad,
Sun. again, and as usual I am just sitting around, partially dressed, and relaxing. Just finished addressing my Christmas cards and now for the news.

At present, reclined on my bed, I am listening to tunes by Victor Herbert. The position I am in with this typewriter on my lap is anything but comfortable. Am going to move my hulk and my machine to my desk.

The novelty of this first outburst of the war has worn off now and the people in this country are settling down to their tasks with grim determination. At first they all took it frivolously. One fellow ran into a store where I was the night of the first blackout and bellowed that he wanted to report the first casualty---said he had lost his hat. Every one you talk to is enlisting in some form of defense.

Last night I went on my first date. I took a Salt Lake girl to the Palladium, a big dancing or I should say ballroom where all of the big bands in this country are sooner or later engaged. Her name is Lois Brown and she is a beauty. She went to the U. during my first year. Then moved down here with her mother and has been living here since.

Whity came up yesterday afternoon and we dated her up for me and a girl friend of hers for him. Hardly knew how to act I have been living around men so long.

Got one of my lessons back yesterday on layout as as usual, note the casualty, got an A. Am getting well into this advertising course now. Have completed about a third of it. I guess I told you about the emblem of merit they are giving me. I was informed of it before I wrote my last letter. I must be slipping if I didn't tell you about it.

I got a letter from Louise a few days ago and she states that all is well. There is no news to speak of. All is well here. Am having a lot of fun, and I still don't know whether I can make it home for Christmas. Will try to let you know in my next letter. Write soon and I will do the same. Love, Tom