I realized yesterday that I’d forgotten to share any letters over the last few weeks. So this week, we get two of them. They’re both from Cornell, who was obviously having some drama in his life.

July 4 1942
Camp Pickitt Va

Dear dad,

I am still O.K. but I am worried to death. I am going to have to buy some clothes so I can get some rations. We don’t have enough clothes to keep clean. That is the reason I wrote for the money. I am in hard luck now. And if you knew what I do you wouldn’t think about selling out. You would be glad to know you have a home. I have taken out $5,000 of insurance and the government has the same. So that makes $10,000 dollars insurance. It will be mailed to you so I want it put in a safe place. So send me some money if you can. Tell Polly to send me some hangers.

CM

If hangers and insurance weren’t enough, there’s something going on with Cornell’s love life, too. And whatever it is, it’s turned him into a Fezzik-style poet.

Sept. 4, 1942

Hello everyone,

I haven’t time to say much. But I’m hoping you all are well. Here’s all I have to say. My heart is great for the ones who care. But that ones that don’t theres nothing there.

In time I’ve had a lot to say, and you all tell me to go away, and now I’m gone and no one cares. But someday your eyes will fill with tears.

I always loved only one and she is now the greatest one. I’ll spend my life with that very one that made my life a pleasant one.

Just Cornell