At Sea:
Hi Stinky;
The lads are giving with some of the local wit, “Shame on you, shame on you Fifi, Olga Filaski the beautiful spie.” It seems to cater off on a tangent similiar to “Bell Bottom Trousers” After a couple of verses tis slipping toward, “The daring young man on the etc”(Notice how I slipped out of the last part of that, purty sharp tonite.)
Since the jovial mood prevails, have you ever heard, “I’m not mercenary honey but my love for you may be only temperary and I now my love for money is permanent.” Or, said the shiek standing befor a desert built micraphone to one of his countrymen at a quiz contest, “And you win the three thousand camels.” Creatures of the same name are covering acres of the background.
Your telling me of Big Oot’s hurts and sprains brings back memories. (These are niether fond nor pleasant, as most playwrites make one believe) During the course of my sojourn at the University of Hail O’mighty Wash., this chap suffered many breaks and bruises at the hands of his fellow aspirants. Among them, two sprained ankles, on obtained while making a daring pass completion for the winning touchdown.
Gridiron history would have been made but for the slipshod workmanship in our present day footware. To be frightfully truthful my love, within the very spitting distance of the goal, I slipped and fell. Ankle swelling ensured. The other came at a less crucial moment, the exact date or place remain somewhat hazy. Now my love there were other things ie, broken noses, black eyes and the appendages, so breakable, called fingers. Always for the dear old Alma Mater I’m fighting the heart out. When the nose was broken and both eyes shaded, an indoor football game. Were defensive, they pass, short to the right. They pass again, it’s a long one to my right, I rush in from the safety position to snatch it down. Down is the correct word, that day I starred, in fact many stars. An hour later I awakened beneath the shower held by two stalwarts, Oot and Muscles I think. They had carried me from the field of battle, the Doc had stemmed the flow of blood and also splinted and taped the proboscis. Yes, tis the spirit in which the game is played, not the score which counts. Oh yes, I had classes in other sports too. Swimming blacked and blued. Volleyball skinned and broke and burned. Basketball devitalized, scratched and removed yards of hide. Softball cost me the flexibility of two fingers and a thumb. Yes, twas nice to be atheletic but its nicer to be uncrippled. The chief once said that he was going to send me back to sea where I’d be safe. He was right in a way, but often wondered how he knew if you were safe at sea. You see, that A doesn’t indicate gunners mate or pilot or engineer. He was a nice chap thou, just miss understood. He struck me kind of funny sometimes. Here he has duty at the third best engineering college in the United States and doesn’t take
advantage of it. They (the chief A’s) don’t work so very long in the day time (2-4 hrs) so a little time hangs on their hands. Well, the fancy dans court the collegeines? The atheletically inclined resort to physical fitness (hanball), the industrious attend classes. Now H.T. (Howard Thomas McGraw) followed none of those simple pastimes, no, he being on the staff of the west’s greatest University spends all of his spare time working on a engineering correspondence course. (I.N.C.)
It seems in this lowly ones estimation, that a lot of words have been spent and naught have touched what are closest to my heart. The things I long to watch you do, run across the street from the bastile that pays you, to sit and drink a brew and say, “my hands are getting light,” to listen to you tell me about that nice black rain repellant I possess, every thing you do, I like. Virtuos, innocent, sweet, charming, witty, fastidious, tempting, lovelie, and madam for a small fee I could go on several hours more. I love you Sweetie and with the rotation, only 15 months more to go.
There are two slight cigarette burns contained in this (to mimic my favorite correspondent) ‘billet doux’. They weren’t placed there purposely, but absorbed in tales, the ‘dugan’ rolled from its receptacle and hid neath the already written reams. Due to a ship’s fire regulation, it ceased burning after two minutes, resulting in only two small fellows.
Love,
Kenny Lee
P.S. Tell me if you
recieve the money order, am not Irish.
Kenneth Lee Martin SM2/c
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