Destroyers, Young Men, Daring-Swift

At sea;

Hello Sweetheart;

The communiques haven’t flown thick and fast recently, because of several reasons; first, being at sea; second, I’m acquiring the Britisher’s way of life, third, there are more duties to attend to now, than when the beach was my residence. Your laughing possibly happy like myself, at getting back to the rolling main. Someday I can tell you more than the letters allow, tis rather a strange setup. My so called British line of thought also enters here. To obtain anothers views, one must witness the things the other person does. (Scrambled isn’t it?) At the present time, I’m aboard a H.M.S. man-o-war for a bit of duty. How long, I can’t tell, but tis a most pleasurable trip.

Of all the things that you have ever sent me hon, the rolled up picture is the one I love

most. Often I take it out of the little cylinder and gaze, it brings back good memories. The one in the envelope seems too grand, even to tis lovelie it doesn’t compare to the girl with a desk. Do you recall when you first brought it home? I do. The ship quivers, as if it had a heart as is mine. In a great hurry to complete it’s voyage and wend the way home to a love. Ships can’t have a person anywhere, but still they seem alive. Always as you look at them, easily

comparable to person or people. Some, such as the rusty battered old tramps remind one of the beaten men found by the water-front. The ships, like the men have almost completed their cycle of usefulness, but each at one time had been young and sturdy and useful. Other ships, like our carriers or wagons are great shining hulks. Huge, rich men at the peak of life. As Time goes, the ships are outmoded and the men go, as the ships do. Sometimes gracefully, oftimes in a scurry, as a ship sinks. Destroyers, young men, daring-swift. As in life sacrificed to save the greater. Off on a tangent this lad is, but when my mind dwells upon thee for very long, it takes spells of going quite out of sorts.

I’ll send my address, but save the return mail until I send another, shall we say American P.O. #.

Always,

Kenny Lee

Kenneth Lee Martin SM2/C

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