December 21, 1943

Dearest,
It isn’t that often that I write to you twice in one day, this is for tomorrow’s mail. The wind dies out at the first crack of dawn after breakfast this morning, but came back with the last glimmer of twilight after supper. Now it’s howling again. Twenty minutes ago it was pouring rain. Now the stars are all shining brightly. Just before the end of November (the 29th I think) I bought you + Toots some stuff to make some clothes out of. You probably won’t like your piece, but it was the best I could find. The piece I got for Toots was a remnant + was all I could get of that kind. So if you want to switch them around somehow, it’s quite alright with me. I’ve been toting the stuff all over England + Northern Ireland looking for suitable wrappings + only found them last night when they were “unwrapping” the hospital. So I’ll get them mailed tomorrow or soon after. I told you some time ago I thought I would maybe send you a little money this month, but I’m sorry to say I cannot do it. The 1st Auxil Officer’s Club assessed (technically “borrowed”) us four pounds each just before I left, + we had to pay for our September rations, as well as October’s out of our November pay and the trip to Ireland and some of our activities here made noticeable, thought not very serious ? on our cash supplies. So I’ve now got ₤ 4.9.5 left. That won’t cramp my style any, but it won’t leave much over. I never intended to mention the subject in the first place, + so raise your hopes falsely, until you started talking bout sending me money. ? Barner is just about flat broke, but he played too much poker in England. I don’t ever do such things.
It’s right cozy sitting here in a circle around the ?? 1 stove: Lt. Cal Herming, Capt, Bussabarge, Capt. Barnes, Lt. ?? + me, + Maj. Stibb is snoozing on the nearest bed. The hut is cold ten feet away from the stove, but with my feet 3 or 4 feet from it + my new bathrobe on it’s quite comfortable. Since I got over here to Ireland I’ve gone back to wearing my winter woolies all the time. I tried leaving them off one morning + like to froze to death.
The hospital didn’t open today, but will open tomorrow, I think, for medical patients only. The surgical service will start working a few days later, when the OR is fixed up (or will it be a few weeks?). The surgical nurses were busy all day making drapes + stuff, but nobody else found much to do today.
This is going to be the last page. Over here the war seems kind of far away. At our first stations in the ETO we used to see large flocks of bombers, big ones, going + coming in the mornings, sometimes + hear them going over in the evening, + for a few weeks we had an alert practically every night, usually with anti- aircraft activities which was sometimes quite spectacular. We heard a good many bombs, but never had fall within ten miles of us (maybe more). And we felt as if we were pretty much in the war,. But this could be Texas just as well as Ireland, except for the climate, + the blackout, + the living half in America + half in the UK, + the food situation, + the screwy money, + a few other things. In other words we are surrounded by plenty of military activity, but no real enemy activity- just like Texas. Ireland’s a very pretty country with small, rolling hills covered with small fields separated by hedgerows + stone fences and occasional mountains, single or in groups, here + there. There are lots of one-story stone houses, usually white-washed, but few thatch roofs here. The people are mostly inclined to be reserved but friendly. But I wish I were home with you. That would be really nice.
Love, B