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Carroll Steinbeck letters to Evelyn Burton, March-July, 1945
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July 20, 1945 My Dearest Evelyn, Another hot, dusty day in Southern France. They seem to be a habit around here anymore. Right now I'm caked with mud through the combination of sweat and dust. Here I go griping right at first and that is no good. Sorry honey. It's been what, three days since I've written? Believe so and that is too long. Guess the thing to do is start back and catch up again. I chased P.W's for twelve hours Tues. I got off at eleven o'clock that night. Naturally I went to bed after that. Got up at seven the next morning and went on guard again. Had the night off and I wrote a couple letters. Yesterday I went on pass to Marseille. Same old
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July 20, 1945 My Dearest Evelyn, Another hot, dusty day in Southern France. They seem to be a habit around here anymore. Right now I'm caked with mud through the combination of sweat and dust. Here I go griping right at first and that is no good. Sorry honey. It's been what, three days since I've written? Believe so and that is too long. Guess the thing to do is start back and catch up again. I chased P.W's for twelve hours Tues. I got off at eleven o'clock that night. Naturally I went to bed after that. Got up at seven the next morning and went on guard again. Had the night off and I wrote a couple letters. Yesterday I went on pass to Marseille. Same old
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