Darlings,
Well, we arrived at Yuma-I have never been so disheartened in all my life. We are the first class to get here-we haven’t even got a upperclass. Our barracks are very shabby-no hot water-no post exchange-no telephone system-no mail system-no nothing. We had a talk by our Commandant today. He told us we were going to be given the most thorough fighter training in the world. This school is going to start with our class and teach us combat tricks that the first American pilots knew nothing of.
I think that this field will be the best in the world when completed but, right now, it looks pretty tough. We are situated about 10 miles from the Mexican border. The town of Yuma is terrible. We were told that we won’t get a pass as long as we are here. I wouldn’t want to go to that town anyway. This place is just plain uncomfortable. This desert sand gets in everything it seems.
I can take this though if they give me my wings and bars. They have also talked of just giving a few commissions. It would kill me I’m afraid. Because of my age I won’t stand too much of a chance. Oh well, we are just hoping that we all will get them.
Say Dad and Mom-I had to fill out some forms today. They asked where my parents were born and if naturalized. Well, I know you are both naturalized but I don’t know the dates and what court you were naturalized in. Will you please tell me in your letter the date and what court each of you were naturalized in?
Well, darlings, your little son is really going to miss home now. Boy! They wouldn’t have to condition us for Africa now. We’ll be ready for it right away. Maybe that’s the idea. I don’t know.
Well, I hope this letter gets through. We can’t buy airmail stamps. Will you send me a dollars worth please? I will try to send the dollar later, if we get paid.
Your loving son,
Jim