Reassignments and explosions; life just got more interesting.
Instead, you should think about what may happen when he does come back. This young man is lonely now, thousands of miles from home, facing death. When he's back home, he'll be re-united with his family and his old friends. Things will be different for him."
"He hasn't written a word in any of his letters about the drawing Uncle Ted made."
"I suppose that means he's polite, Diane. I wouldn't want my daughter meeting him if he behaved inappropriately."
"You intend to, don't you, regardless of what I say?" Dr. Miller chuckled.
The mail service is quite frustrating. I feared the worst when your last letters were delayed. I am glad to know you are safe and well.
By the time this letter reaches you, you should have only three or four missions left. I do hope they go well for you.
Have you had an opportunity to think about your future as a civilian? You mentioned starting a business. What would you like to do?
Things are going much better here. Father and I survived another round of the flu, and so did our patients. We delivered twins this morning, the first babies in town fathered by a veteran of the Pacific Theater.
I pray daily for this awful war to end.
Write to me when you can.
Tommy read Diane's letter again after he finished packing Lefty's and Jimmy's things to send home to their parents. Everything but the pin-ups. Someone in the barracks would want them. He polished his dress shoes again. He would be in no mood to deal with them in the morning before the memorial service.
I also pray for this terrible war to end. A bomber and a fighter airplane did not return from the last mission. We suffered casualties on some that could fly home, and there is considerable flak damage on many of our airplanes. We took out the landing strips on two German airbases, so the fighter airplanes we didn't shoot down probably ran out of gas. It was a horrible day for both sides.
God willing, I'll be stateside six weeks from the date I write this. Your town is not far from my parent's home, which is where I will live for the short term. When I am established, would you allow me to call on you?
"Father? I don't know what to do." Diane poured the doctor a second cup of coffee.
"Tommy will be home in about a month."
She sat at the table and fidgeted while her father read his newspaper. Eventually he folded it and set it aside. "You want to go, don't you?"
"To meet him?"
"Why yes, of course, to meet him. I've been around the block a few times, young lady. I know you quite well. You will always question yourself if you don't go."
"But what if the things you said are true? What if he's lonely now, but won't be when he returns? He may have a girl waiting for him."
"Perhaps you should ask him. It won't do for you to get your heart broken, child."
It was with great sadness that I learned of your losses. Doing what you do must be even harder when you grieve for friends. I did not know them, of course, but I shall pray for them as I do for you.
You asked in one of your letters if you might call on me when you return. I indicated that you may, but I must ask you a question: Is there a young lady waiting at home for you? It would be improper for me to see you under those circumstances. I trust you understand.
You do not know me, but I am a man of honor. I would never have written you, and quite possibly would not have saved your picture, if someone were waiting for me at home. There was a girl of whom I was quite fond in school. However, she refused to see me after I enlisted. She felt, as I now do, that war is an abomination. I have had no contact with her since I left for basic training.
Shall I assume that you have no suitors? From your letters, it seems as though you would barely have time, being so devoted to your father's work.
When I return,