July 4, 1943
Katie, you've got no idea how strange it is to be celebrating today without you and Steve. Wish him a happy birthday for me, would you? Tell the old man to be careful. Did you know that no one over here celebrates Independence Day? The boys at camp mention it, but it's not as if there are fireworks and stuff. I guess England's still sore from losing the war.
The war over here's going well, I guess. It's no picnic, but none of my pals have died, and only a few've gotten shot. They're alive, though; I think Bill's going home soon cause of his injury.
Damn, I shouldn't have said that. Maybe I should just start saving up the letters that I mention the war in, keep you from worryin'. I dunno. I hope you're doin' good back home. You're out for summer now, I think; what're you doin'? I'm sure you're found somethin' to do; you always do. Eat lot a' ice cream for me this summer; not many opportunities for a malt over here. I got your letter—both a' them, actually. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, there's been a lot of fighting lately.
And there I go again. I really am sorry, Angel, I don't mean to worry you. Just know that I'm safe, alright? And I'll be coming home soon; the boys say the war'll be over in a few months. Stay safe, alright? Stay outta trouble.
-James