Dearest Sweetie;
Not happy, haven’t had mail from thou for two days. The habit brings nice feelings all day.--Started this note of love awful early today, cuz can feel the taste of beer tonight. When I drink the usual half a case, well, the languague and writing becomes rather unlegible. Have to absorb it once in a while to enjoy the pleasures of no hangover the rest of the time.
Reminds me of two tales, one short, one longer. The first is about the crap-shooting boatswain mate on liberty. “Why do the girls like a sailor like me” he asked, “Well, to answer the question, when I go ashor, I got plenty of pesonablity.”
The other, about a SM that I knew who was on a minecraft at Oki. As per usual, the kamikazes were running fairly thick and strictly regulation, this small craft was using high speed evasive tactics. She got kinda lost, and wound up heading into a minefield. Nice trip, they hit two mines, and to add pestilence to holes in your floor, the kamikazes both completed their missions. He swam, no end. Did I
tell you that lil “Candy Leroy” spent sixteen or so days on a life raft? His ammunition ship had a mysterious underwater explosion down south a couple of years ago. Funny when he tells about the skipper telling people to throw everything of weight and of no use, over the side. The radioman went all out--sextant, chronometer, charts, all except one of the north Atlantic. Smart operations, all they knew was the direction toward up.--I know a better direction, the way home to my stinky. Love you woman.
Love
Kenny Lee
Kenneth Lee Martin SM1/c
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