The Ely miner., 1943-06-10
Bv KATHLEEN NORRIS

II
Fl dier. An American sol
L L dier who has been in uni
form for fourteen months, with
out ever leaving his own coun-
try. He was for eight months in
Alaska, was sent to officers
training camp in the middle
west six months ago; has since
been moved to an air base in
Florida. During that time Andy
has been home for three leaves,
and now he expects fourth
leave before being finally as
signed.
81 wish the family at home
would get onto the fact that
I'm not a hero, and that my
tastes haven't changed in all
these months" writes Andy. ''It
would be ridiculous to say that I
don't look forward to leave, because
I love my home, and those months
in Alaska were the longest and dull
est I ever lived through. But they
make such fuss over me at home
that it makes me feel embarrassed;
I haven't done anything yet that
I wasn't told to do; I haven't done
anything heroic or dramatic. Nom
was terribly pleased when I was
sent to officers training, but so were
a lot of other fellows, and it isn't
anything to get chesty about.
'Next month I'll probably be sent
overseas, and if I am I'll certainly
do my best to show how ready I
am to fight. But meanwhile why
don't they let me alone?
Over-Supply of Welcome.
''Look," the letter continues youth
fully. ''The whole family gathers
round the minute I get home, and
they listen to every word I say as
if it was Gospel. Aunts and uncles
that didn't see three times year
come in to meals. People whose
houses I never dined in, people I
actually don't like, telephone Nom
and ask if Andy will come to dinner,
and exactly what I'd like. My aunt
brings in doughnuts and cookies ev-
cry day, the kind you always were
crazy about, dearie.' My sister
makes patches of fudge and expects
me to be eating it practically all
the time. I tell Nom some silly thing
about army meals or something,
and she wants me to repeat it to
everyone; tell them about that time
you were shelling peas,' tell them
what the mess-sergeant said about
your doing the Dishes
Evenings are the worst. Dad
won't let my younger sister or broth
er out of the house while I'm there,
and my other sister comes over with
her husband and more fudge, and
often my cousin and his wife come
in; they live next door. They all
want to sit around in ring and
make much of me; Nom picks up
everything I say and repeats it to
the others; I'm not allowed any
more to have the kind of evening I
used to like. I mean radio, and a
book, and maybe movie, or going
around with some boy know. And
then when I've got to 60 they all
cry for two days; gosh, you can't
blame Nom for that, but the others
don't do anything to buck her up.
Forced Appreciation.
"There are two other fellows at
camp who told me they left home
three days before their leave was up
because they were fed and petted
and quoted too much," the letter
goes on. zone of them had ten days
on his first leave and his mother
he's an only child-took him out to
dinner with people he hardly knew
every one of the ten nights. He said
she liked it; lots of them were peo-
pie she hadn't known at all before.
The other one says he always gets
sick at home, and so dog-tired he
has to go to a hotel for few days