Dear Helen

3-9-43

Dear Helen,

Well here it is Tues. afternoon about 3:30, after goldbricking awhile, resting under a patch of trees. Boy it was swell out this afternoon. This morning we wore our overcoats & froze & this afternoon we wore our flight jackets & sweated. Well that's one thing I don't have to tell you about & that's the weather. (Missourian)
As I told you over the phone Sun. morning, I really missed you Sat. night. Boy if I would have known the 25 training group was going instead of the 23rd, I would have made it my business to squeeze into the convoy, but when you don't know certain facts you can't solve your problem. It's just "one of those things."
Sure, I intended to write all day again like I always do trying to catch up with my mail, but at 3:30 the sergeant walked into our hut and said said he needed two more men to go on a convoy. So being it was a dinner dance my friend & I went. Anything to get a meal outside of J.B. and you can lead me to it. Don't get me wrong now, I'm not squawking about the food at J.B. but mass production certainly cuts down the pleasure to some extent.
As for the dancing, it's the same old story (missed you) & so I came home early. We had passes and could leave any time we wanted to. It was no use, whenever I tried to teach anybody the lindy I always found myself doing the dago hop. That only proves one point & that is you are a very good dancer. You're the only one that caught on to the lindy & peabody. I'm no dancing instructor & I guess the easy way out of it is to learn the St. Louis way, but the lazier the instructor I am, the better you must be to catch up on the steps. So to come to a conclusion, I know for a fact I can't teach to save my life, so you are an exra good dancer. you can give me a quarter for that one. O.K.
Monday morning we went before the Colonel. Well we passed but there is always one goon to make a mistake. (It wasn't me either). But as long as we passed it was O.K. The afternoon we had to ourselves believe it or not. So I went to the service club to write letters & wrote 6 of them. I felt much better after that.
I was supposed to get guard duty (24 hours) but so far the luck (of the Irish) is holding out pretty well. Many of the other flights have got guard duty already, so I guess my chance is coming.
This morning we had to parade before Brig. General Howard. Boy what a grand victorious feeling you get marching to the beat of the drums. If there is anything I like here is to march to the rhythm of the music. I guess it's just like dancing to music also. It's the "old certain feeling."
I just stopped the letter for a few minutes for mail call & got a letter from mom. She says she is getting the data about N.Y. together for you. So as soon as I get it, it's yours.
Last night we had another G.I. party. General cleanup, scrub the floor, etc. We sing & make more noise than a bunch of nuts in a crazy house. It makes the time go faster.
Well I think that's all for now, except that I still hope it's O.K. for Sunday.
I hope you write soon because I'll be waiting impatiently.
I hope I'm still here to enjoy another enjoy another enjoyable day with you.
So until I hear from you,

I remain,
Sincerely Yours,
Tony

Dear Ma, Pa, Barb, Ann, Ele, Letter No. 27

Pvt. Anthony J. Curcio
23 TNG. GRP.
SQD. "A"
Jefferson Barracks, MO.

Date 3-7-43
Letter No. 27
Rec'd 36

Dear Ma, Pa, Barb, Ann, Ele,

Well here it is Sunday afternoon and I am sitting in my bunk writing letters. I have to try to catch up once again.
As I told you in my last letter we were supposed to go before (yesterday) the colonel but we didn't on account of the weather. Instead we did drill in the morning & in the afternoon went on a 5 mile hike. Anything to keep us busy.
In the night I took a shower & got all set for the convoy into town. But it wasn't the same one I went on last time. They change from flight to flight. This one went to Saint Thomas' Church. So I didn't see Helen Riley. I wish I did though because I didn't have such a good time. They dance a lot different out here. They don't do the lindy like we do, the few that do it. They never heard of the peabody. But I taught Helen Riley how to do them & she caught on right away. Maybe I better let them teach me their way.
Helen was working till 5 o'clock today (Sunday) & I could have gone out to her house but I thought it would be better if I stayed here & rested a bit. I'm pretty tired from last night.
This morning I went to 8 o'clock mass, same as last Sunday. They have lent here the same as they do back home. I will find something to sacrifice. They will have a mass on Wed. night & I will get ashes on my head.
After church I made a call on the phone to Helen to explain what happened last night. Then I came back & slept till chow. For chow we had chicken, potatoes, asparagus, bread & butter, coffee, soup, ice cream & crackers. During the week we don't get the ice cream and the portions are a little less. But we still get plenty. (The field ration, as I explained in the last letter).
Boy the weather changes here. Yesterday it snowed and it was awful cold. The roads were slippery etc. This morning when I went to church it was cold & when I got back from the church the snow had melted & the ground was muddy. What do you think of that.
In our huts it's the same way. The upper bunks are hot & the lower bunks are cold. That is why I took the upper bunk. All the heat rises you know. Maybe I ain't so dumb after all.
I got another letter from Aunt Margaret. She send her regards. I also got a letter from Aunt Concelia. She said she didn't write sooner because she didn't feel so good but she feels better now. She sends her regards too.
I also got a letter from a fellow I went to school with. His name is Jimmy Anaheim. He said he got the address from my sister. How did he got it?
How is Grandma, Pa, Barb, Ann, Ele? I don't have to ask you ma. I know are O.K.
Until my next letter I remain,

Your Loving Soldier Boy,
Tony

P.S. How did you like those camouflage pictures?
P.S. This is my last piece of paper & have no more envelopes. I should have wrote sooner for them.