Letter's Home . . .
at least my hands weren't blown off
Written by: Robert Sandell
Commentary by: Alex Sandell

Letter # 2

Jan 21 '43

Hello you-all:

Don't misunderstand the "and outfit" that I put on the envelope. Just got too lazy to write out all the names.

Well, received your letters here a few days back. Haven't gotten around to answer 'em 'til now.

Excuse me for not thanking you before for that military apron, but better late than never, so thanks a lot. That apron really comes in handy.

They finally classified us within the company. But it's not necessarily the permanent setup. They'll still be shifting us around as their whimsy directs. They threw me into the drivers section. Ambulance, jeeps, command cars, etc.. Us "drivers" (note quotation marks on that one) go to drivers school every afternoon, which started a few days ago. Would rather have gotten into the station platoon where the actual medical aid is administered by our company is given. But the older fellows & fellows that've had a lot of medical experience snagged the jobs.

So, all that was left was driving or litter (stretcher) bearing. The L.B. job is hard work. Toting heavy ginks across broken terrain on stretchers is no cinch, so I guess I'm better off in driving. If it was just driving, it wouldn't be so bad, but it involves servicing & maintenance, which to me is something I'm definitely not suited for. On that, I have to go around asking the other fellows questions about the work that they all know from previous experience. Makes me feel foolish.

A word to Bill: Hi, there Butch, how're things going? They don't wake us with bugles here. A guy just comes in and yells, "hit the dirt, you slugs."

Well, guess I'll close now folks. Give a write again.

So long & regards to all,


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