July 6,1944

Dear Dad

After long long silence once more writes the prodigal son. Or, more properly the black sheep of the family.

Father's Day! As it approached there came into my head a brilliant thought some gift must be contrived. So one day as I was ambling about town window shopping I noticed a brilliant display. Here were colors of every description except harmonious ones. These mixtures of color were ties brought into temporary popularity bye the oh-so-great-and-magnificent Frankie (Ooooo!) Sinatra. Ah ha! thought I , here is something that might possibly amuse my staid and respectable professor father.

After buying at random I was somewhat disappointed that these ties lost in brightness when alone and individual. There followed my usual period of inaction but finally it was mailed. When some weeks had passed my conscience caught up with me and I decided that you couldn't keep on wondering forever what had happened to my intelligence if in existence). So this letter.

I am learning as much about radio as the army has to teach. Sometimes this is not very much because the instructors are ordinary G.I.'s who have gone through the school with an average of 85% or better. Consequently most of them don't know how to teach. Efficiency is often poor, too, as is common in the army where everyone has a finger in the pic.

The war except for China seems to be progressing along satisfactorily. But everyone is still too optimistic about the time if will take.

My love to you.

Linus