March 11, 1945 Sunday

Dear One,

                A little while ago I talked to you on the phone and didn’t have much to say.  Right now I’m on guard duty and also writing a letter with not much to say either. Probably at times like long distance phone calls it isn’t so much what you say anyway-more what you feel.  By the way you talked, your feeling wasn’t natural which is natural.  I guess it’s one of those feelings you can’t explain maybe something like the feeling you get before you get on the speaking platform in front of a big mob, or when you get something you want bad and don’t know how to act or what to say.  Those feelings and quite a few more all mixed in.

                It’s sure funny-it’s a fine spring weather we’re having outside.  When it’s snow and ice I have a nice watch out in it, and when a day comes along that it would be nice to be out, the Hyer boy has to sit at a desk and play executive. I’ll close for awhile.

Paul