Sunday, December 20, 2009

Cold Winter Nights - Jan 18, 1945

Jan 18, 1945

Dear Mother,

Time really flies, strange as it may seem. I no more start looking for a month to begin - than bang - it's gone. Not keeping track of the days has something to do with it. There are days on end when I couldn't even tell you the date or day of the week.
Is every one working at the same old jobs? Come to think of it I seem to be in a rut also. And on the other hand when I see boys sleeping out in snowy fox holes I'm glad I'm in that rut.
I took a few minutes the other morning for a try at a rabbit running around here loose. He's an elusive young fellow. I only got one shot at him before he disappeared in the woods. Better luck next time - I hope.
There is a woman that serves hot milk to me every night at bedtime. Believe me it hits the spot on these cold winter nights. I'm getting all kinds of bad habits. Don't you think.

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