WHAT?! GET OUT OF THE ARMY?

[The letter of December 21, 1942, continues:]

Now, this business of getting out of the army. [Get out of the army? This is the first I've heard. Whatever happened to "we must win this war" and "we must do what we must do?" But to be fair –he is sick and apparently confined to bed in the barracks.] I want you to do nothing until I can find out about it from here and I think our personnel office can give me the dope on it but it may be after Christmas before I can contact them. Your affidavits are part of my questionnaire so I doubt that you could get them. I plan to have Harry [his old supervisor] take steps to get me out , , ,

I don't know whether this will reach you before Christmas or not but it carries you my best wishes. It seems pretty un-Christmassy to me but I haven't shed any tears over it and don't expect to. I'm looking forward to my trip to Jacksonville and I'm sure I'll be feeling pretty well by then ---

The crops were pretty disappointing, weren't they? I think you did as well on flax as you would have on beans, however. But all this shorting and dockage makes you want to cuss [Ina inserts 'bawl'] everybody out. Frankly, I want none of it. If I can get out of here and get what I want, I want you to plan to rent the farm and take it easy. (But don't jump at anything for Harry is a very good friend but as temperamental as an opera star. So don't write to Polly [Harry's wife]. Let me handle this until I find where you come in.)

Tell Aunt Bertha to accept my apologies for not getting a card off to them. Yesterday was the first time I have felt like picking up a pen.

Merry Christmas and love, Vance