February 4, 1942

Dear Mother and Dad,

Here is the letter that I promised I would write Sun. Sorry--I can still remember what I did over the weed-end, though, so will do my best to tell you about it. I just finished my after dinner walk, listening to Bob Hope, and eating my apple for the day--feel like a caged mountain lion with night and darkness as my barrier. Say, what kind of talk is that?

Now for the news: Sat. night the boys came over about eight O'clock. We settled in my room and took the bull by the horns--"slung the bull"--for about two hours. At ten, imaginations exhausted, we decided to go over to Hollywood and see Whitlock. Strange enough he was home--we talked, again, and played poker. I lost ninety cents--and then, at quarter to twelve or so, we went out and got something to eat and took in a midnight show. I spent the remainder of the morning with "Whitty".

Sun., back home with the boys at 404, events begun about three. We all piled into the twins car and went out to dinner. Nelson and I ate frogs legs which upset our stomach for the day. We rode out to the ocean and took a look at the waves we had been reading so much about in the papers and then came home. Some of the boys went out again, I read the paper and talked with the older folks down stairs--came up to my room--read the funnies--slept--and then went to work.

This letter isn't going to ramble on like this any longer--I hope. Since I haven't been able to do any studying, I have been giving my future some serious thought. My conclusion is simple, and I think, best. I am going to come home to register--quit my job--spend some time at home--and then enlist in something. I am sending a clipping which will give you some idea of the position of the defense worker. Boys are being drafted from the plant now. By quiting my job and coming home, I think I can get into a good phase of the Army. At any rate, I don't want to be drafted as a private in the rear ranks. I have talked to too many privates.

This is probably a startling bit of news, but, I think, as I said before, it will be best. It isn't a spur of the moment, impulsive, idea. I have genuinely and seriously considered it for some time.

Think I will run down stairs and steal another apple. Write soon and tell me what you think. I don't think I am making a mistake. Love, Tom

P.S. I tore the top of the other sheet turning my paper. I had to copy my letter over or do I have to tell you that I did.