August 21, 1942  Wendover, Utah

Dear Donna,

Three days, 72 hours, but my conscience isn’t quite so clear.  I had a smoke today, and I’m sorry to say, it tasted fairly good.  I’m still trying, and will continue to do so, but I won’t make any promises.

Dad called me up today to see why he hadn’t heart from me, and also to see if I was coming out there this Sunday.  It looks like I might be able to make it, but I’m not sure of anything here with the ? coming up at all.  I wish I were coming into Salt Lake and you were there too, but I am afraid that is almost asking too much.  Maybe I can get him to drive here and then to Delta, but I am afraid my chances are too slim for that.  It was a nice thought though.  But, it won’t be too long until we will be able to get furlough from Pueblo and by then I hope we can come to a mutual understanding.

Had a real good windstorm today, it even blew out bulletin glass door off and scattered papers all over the field.

It’s pretty late and there isn’t anything of any importance to write about from this outpost, but I’m sure hoping for a letter tomorrow in the afternoon mail.

Wish you were here, or better, I was there. 

Can’t think of anything to write about, so I will close, take a shower, and hit the hay.

Goodnight and lots of love,

Wayne