4 April 1956
Just for a change, I thought I’d type a letter. Just got done typing one to Lief. All I do twenty-four hours a day is sit at this darn (now that’s an odd looking word—I was just being polite) typewriter, so a few minutes more will give me a chance to practice.
Tomorrow is the big day for the Mess Cook Change-over; 45 guys coming and 45 guys going. This place will be a mad-house for awhile—at least my end of it will be.
A bunch of VIP’s flew on today from somewhere, and in order to give them a really good show, full of chills and spills, they sacrificed an enlisted man tonite (thought at first it was a pilot, but enlisted men are lots cheaper). They’ll be bringing him down to the reefers in a while now.
Chief just clamored all over my chair to turn on an air vent—it is awfully hot in here.
The Intrepid joined up with us today—she came over to relieve the Lake Champlain. Funny that she’s back so soon; we relieved her in November, when we came over.
Afraid there’s going to have to be a day’s pause in letters—I’m tired and think I’ll go to bed.
Hope you understand and will forgive
YOUR Loving Son