Wendover Field,

Utah, August 18, 1942

Dear Donna:

Nothing doing tonight that amounts to a whole lot of importance.

I’m writing tonight listening to a radio, the first time that has happened in months. We just don’t get the chance to learn very much in regards to what is going on outside. Then when we do get the chance to listen to the radio, it is music we want to hear.

I have been thinking over what I wrote last night, and I haven’t changed my mind in any way. In fact it has become more set in its ways in regards to the matter. What will your opinion be is what I am worrying about.

Regardless of what it maybe, I want to be able to still continue our friendship for always.

Twenty four hours since I smoked. Believe it or not. I’m being honest about it. I tried one & the first of it hit my throat and the stuff they used to swab it out went into revolutions. So that’s that. Have you ever had your throat swabbed? It’s mean.

There isn’t much of anything in the way of new news around here. We are slowly getting around to getting ready to start working nights, getting the movement order into shape. Don’t know the date as yet, or even our exact location or destination.

Can’t think of anything more to say tonight so will sign off for now and say goodnight & lots a love.

Wayne