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NEWBURGH, NEW YORK
My Dearest Dottie,
Man, is this week dragging along. With all this time off in the afternoons, I have too much time to think. And that’s bad; ‘cause when I’m with you the time passes fast, but when I think about you, it’s different.
Honey, being married to you is going to be the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. What a mad, crazy life we’ll have together. We’ll fight all right, about little things; but then there’s always the process of making up. Aw,—we’ll never have any real fights anyhow, (it says here).
That’s terrible about Lonnie Ring. How did it happen? Was he in combat? Is he just missing, or reported killed? He’s the second in about a month. This war is really taking a toll. You never realize it, darling, until it strikes somewhere near you, do you?
Steve is writing to Woody tonight. We couldn’t find her address in the phonebook, so no doubt you will find the letter enclosed. He seems to think a lot of the girl, maybe we’ve got something here, honey. (That’s all I know, curious!)
I’m glad you like the ring darling. It seemed to be just your type. Not too flashy to be cheap looking; but small and dainty, as you are my darling.
Of course I want you to see me get my wings, darling. That will be the proudest moment of my life, except when I marry you, a few weeks after.
The situation [for] Christmas is still in the dark. Every day we don’t fly now, means a day less then, and it’s been two days so far, with a half an hour in the air (There was fog here this morning).
If I get off Friday, I don’t think I’ll go to New York with the boys. I[t] would mean an all night drinkin’ session, and I’d have a hangover all weekend. It would probably cost a lot of money, too.
But there’s one bad thing about getting off Friday night. If I do, I’ll probably have to come back Sunday morning to fly that afternoon, and that would sort of mess things up for Sunday, wouldn’t it. I’ll let you know Thursday when I call you, hon.
Well, darling, we’re going to take a cross-country this week, so I’ve got to prepare my maps.
I love you, my darling, and think of you every minute we’re apart.
All my Love
Recommended CitationClark, William Judson, "Letter Written by William Judson Clark to Dorothy A. Six Clark Dated November 28, 1944" (1944). Clark, Dorothy Audrey Six and William Judson. Paper 89.