but Am Extremely Fortunate.

There aint much to say just like there aint much to do. I feel awful
funny. I cant exactly explain it. Of course I want to go home. Thats
all Ive wanted to do since November. At the same time I feel kind of
sad like you do when your comin back to work from your summer
vacashun. We been in the old army so long, an weve done the same
things an cussed at them so many times, that you get sort of fond of
the whole business just like you do any job that takes an awful long
time an a lot of hard work to finish, but that youve finished. I guess
you could get sentimental about piece work in a factory--after youd
quit.

I never thought when I sat here in the mud last May an rote you how Id
escaped from the pearls of the sea, as the poets say, that Id ever sit
here agen an rite you that I was comin home. I never menshuned this of
course for fear it would worry you. Now that its all over tho its all
right to talk about it. It wasnt that I was scared cause I guess you
know that I was never scared of nothin. Nerveless. Thats me all over,
Mable. But I used to think of how hard youd take it when you saw it in
the papers, an how people would come an look at your house an shake
there heads an walk away. Some of them would pull out a lace
hankercheff out of there neck or sleeve or wherever you carry those
things. Theyd touch up there eyes a bit an say "I knew him well,"
wether they did or not.

You know, Mable, that once or twice when I get lyin awake at night
thinkin about all that stuff I came pretty near cryin myself it struck
me as so sad. The one I liked to think of best tho was the minister
sayin a few butiful words about me Sunday. All the people was turnin
around to look at you. You were cryin quiet like an your mother was
tryin to keep the tears from spottin the red Moroko himnal.

An here I am safe an sound without even a wound stripe. I feel the
same way that I did when I came across on the boat without getting
sunk. It aint fair to you somehow or other. I kind of cheated somehow,
tho for the life of me I cant figer how. It makes me into a sort of a
third class crook but Im glad to be one.

Theres been an awful lot of talk in the papers an magazines about how
were comin home changed men. I dont believe your goin to have any
trouble recognizin me, Mable. Perhaps Ive gotten a little stouter.
Thats about all. Even the Captin, whose been with me ever since we
started, was sayin to me the other da