Tonight I am laying in my bed here at the 51st General Hospital writing by flashlight. Much has happened during the last month and a half but I'll try to cover it all briefly. The 85+ point men went to the depot on the 3rd of September and shipped out on the 15th for home. On that same day the 80 point men came out on orders - reported to the Depot on 18 September. On 22 September a radio was received by this headquarters, our hopes were bolstered. We 70 point men all got big hairy ideas about getting home before Thanksgiving and wrote as much in letters home. So far we haven't been able to find out when we might get out - although right now it looks a lot like it will be mid-December. Our orders should come out in November sometime. The boys are pretty disgusted with the slow process being made in getting men home.
My condition hasn't improved much. I had some more canker sores along with diarrhea and a few other symptoms. Mainly from so long on this lousy chow. One week ago I let them hospitalize me again for aphthous stomatitis. To date they haven't done much - the cankers go away anyway in about ten days and are clearing up nicely. I'm way underweight, weighing about 130 pounds now. I talked to Major Devin and Col. Sitzman and they came over to see my ward doctor about getting me evacuated thru medical channels. So far no results and I don't expect anything anymore, but it would be a relief to get evacuated and beat all that waiting at the Replacement Depot. It is even possible I might get air transportation, which would be wonderful. But of course all that is still in the process of wishful thinking - we'll see what next week has to say. If the 70 point men (including me) come out on orders I'll make an effort to get out of here and then sweat it out with the rest of them. It's just dad, mom, and Marie at home - I'd like to get back to help fill up the house.
It's tough on the nerves to spend so many days waiting. After over two years away from home I'm so anxious to get back that I can't easily explain the feeling of anxiety and pent up emotion that grips me. I'm calm on the outside but inside I'm just a case of nerves. I feel like blowing my top or something. For so long I've been reading letters, writing letters - talking about "after the war," waiting, waiting, and dreaming of things to come. The existence over in the Philippines is nothing more than that. Nobody lives - they merely exist.
I'm always wondering what it will be like to come home again. How much have I changed? Will June still love me? Will I love her? Will mom and dad have changed? How will I seem to them?
I don't know whether I'm going to school or going to work or what I'll do yet. These are only a few of the things that whiz through my mind nearly every day. I feel certain things will work out okay - but I can't help wondering. Right now I'm praying to be home (and healthy) by Christmas at least. I don't know how I can wait that long, but I really hope to spend Christmas at home. I'm tired of writing now so will sign off now.
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