Letters

This week's seen a bounty of letters from the men. Our co-worker Mary has heard from her boyfriend Tom, who's seen action aboard his aircraft carrier, the USS Yorktown. A Japanese plane was shot down before his very eyes in the Gilbert Islands!

Meanwhile, Betty's heard from her husband Joe. He's arrived in Alaska to start building the new highway, which is supposed to link the territory to the 48 states by land for the first time. Joe says it's awful cold and the conditions are pretty primitive, but he's anxious to get started.

But I think Bob's situation is the most exotic. He's stationed for the time being in Brisbane, Australia of all places. Apparently American troops are gathering there to prepare to fight the Japanese in the South Pacific. The enemy's fearfully close to Australia, and the papers are full of dire predictions of an invasion. Bob's a pilot without a plane at the moment, but once his beloved P-38s arrive he'll be off to combat.

I'm thrilled of course to hear from Bob, but each letter reminds me painfully of the immense distance between us and the danger he's in, both things I'd rather not think about. I'm trying to concentrate as hard as I can on my factory work, though the men at the plant aren't making it easy.

We heard today that a couple of the fellows on the night shift were shot by one of the sentries when they were carpooling up to the plant. They'll be OK, and I imagine they'll never again forget about the guards posted around the completed B-17s.





Betty remarked to me that she wouldn't have minded if one of the wounded workers had been our chief tormentor Frank Lomax. I have a secret plan to deal with him, which I intend to put into action next week. If things go as I hope they will, Frank won't underestimate the ladies again!