Train rides are at best a trial, but it's rather fun to talk to the characters who always happen to sit next to you. What makes it easy is that all people who sit next to you on trains are characters because basically people are all characters anyway. Rode down to New York with a huge and easy sort of sergeant with his arm in a cast who spoke a fluent Brooklynese. He had just returned from Italy as a casualty; in the last raid over Austria their plane had been damaged and in landing, he had broken his arm in several places, so they shipped him back to the States. He'd been away two years and had a wife-- rather, a bride-- home in Brooklyn. He glowed whenever he said Brooklyn which made me like him instinctively. More than that, he turned out to be a very honest and real sort of a guy and as you can just guess, we had a fine time talking about labor, management, religion, etcet. He told me of an audience they had with the Pope on one of their trips to Rome, and how a little Protestant boy from Texas who was standing in front, reached over the rope with an outstretched hand when His Divine Empinity appeared and called out: "Hya, Pope!" It made quite a hit... At New York an elderly and rather seedy looking gent sat down next to me and began chatting in bad English; I remarked that he hadn't been bron in this country? no, he said, in Odessa. He spoke a fluent Russian and I had a lot of fun trying to keep up with him.

Yesterday was my last day at the settlement house now that the weather is warm enough for the kids to go out on the playground, and I'm really sorry it's over. Have been looking into prospects for a similar job this summer and think I'll be working at the Marginal St. playground in the new housing project area in East Boston. I don't know if I told you that Jane Hughes and I are going domestic this summer and keep house and work for two months in Cambridge. Possibly her aunt will let us have her house rent free, and if not, we may live in Brookline with Pris. Janie is a wonderful gal; she comes from Baltimore and her character was really first formed when she declared that she had no intentions of "coming out" in society. Since then, she has done all sorts of unconventional things; i.e., discovering that Jews don't have horns any more than other people do, and that big business can sometimes do not so nice things to free enterprise. They weren't very easy things for her to find out on her own, but they are part of the reason that she's such a swell kid. The rest of the reasons are that she has an incredible sense of humor and a very warm personality. We are extending blanket invitations to all our friends to come to dinner, wash the dishes, and sleep on the living room sofa. With you, we might make an exception--like omitting the dishes.

This afternoon I heard Donald Ogden Stewart speak-- he's the guy who staged the "Barretts of Wimpole Street" and "Phila. Story"-- and lived to talk about it. He has a very dry but wonderful sense of humor and gave us a very witty description of the difference between life in Cambridge and in Hollywood. (Here the books are dusted and the pages are cut). He had a lot to say about the Hayes Office and the failure of the film industry to deal with anything more im-

portant than boy meets girl. (You mean there's more?) Something that I had never thought about before was that the Jews who after all for many a year, controlled Hollywood, were extremely sensitive about the problem of anti-Semitism, likewise about fascism, and it wasn't until the filming of "Keeper of the Flame" that the word Jew was ever spoken on the screen. He also spoke of the Catholic church as a very potent factor in determining what is and what is not to be dealt with and the economic factor that influences the producer away from any controversial subjects that might affect the box office receipts. Incidentally, the Music Hall in New York City decided this week against showing any pictures of the Nazi atrocity pictures that are now coming in because they were afraid of the influence it would have on the movie-goer. That's a helluva note...

Cambridge is going thru its usual labor pains trying to arrive at spring. It rains and rains and rains and then as soon as that dries out, it rains again. But it's lovely all the same and I think that as long as Appleton Chapel strikes the hour, I'll go on thinking that way.. despite the fact that I have an hour exam Saturday and one Monday and a term paper due next Friday. Three weeks to generals and then two more till finals and we write finis to this term. Soon enough! but generals.... oh well. Overrated?

At this point the smoking room is chaos with three t'writers going and the radio full blast and much much chatter. So before I wax too incoherent, I guess we'd better think about finishing off this letter. I'll be waiting to hear from you soon; and oh yes, Jeannie sends you her very best. Goodnight, Vic.

XXX

May

Tuesday

Vic dear:

I thought you might like to see the enclosed
which took place today at 12:30 while a sea of white
capped officers and WAVES and army boys stood at atten-
tion in the Yard facing the steps of Mem chapel and ax
the student body and good citizens of Cambridge stood on
Widener steps. Sperry was at his simple best and altho
it always strikes me that there is something incongruous
in hearing the words of an unknown Diety echo hollowly
thru a scientific apparatus known as a loudspeaker, it
was a fine thing to hear these hundreds and hundreds of
people sing their national anthem, while the choir on
the chapel steps with their crimson and black robes flapp-
ing in the breeze made themselves heard over all the rest.
Long sentences always seem to get the better of me, don't
they? Especially today, I think, because I was really so
very impressed. There was a color guard of Old Glory and
the Harvard crest and sailors with guns-- and high over
University Hall three magnificent huge flags are flying--
the stars and stripes, the unionjack, and... the hammer
and sickle. Yup, the red flag high in Harvard Yard. There
was a bright spring sun and the lawns had been freshly
cut, the Yard a huge mass of people full of a warm relief,
if not elation, the chapel bells and the organ music. we
were rather carried away with it all. People seem to be
less jubilant than thoughtful, tho, knowing that we are
only half way thru the job.

Little news-- have just gotten thru with two
hour exams and have two papers to finish up this week.
Mother called me Friday to tell me that Eleanor's baby
had arrived four weeks ahead of schedule and to every one's
amazement, it's a girl-- quite a rarity in our clan.

The first Yard concert is shceduled for tonight,
and if it doesn't rain before then, and if I go study very
hard now, maybe I'll get there. So for now, finis until
I hear from you-

May

# ORDER OF SERVICE

## THE RINGING OF THE BELL IN THE MEMORIAL CHURCH

### ORGAN PRELUDE

#### OPENING SENTENCES

The Lord is great and greatly to be praised: he is to be feared above all gods.

He cometh to judge the earth: he shall judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth.

He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth.

#### INVOCATION

##### LET US PRAY:—

O God, the protector of all that trust in thee, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us thy mercy; that thou being our ruler and guide we may so pass through things temporal, that we finally lose not the things eternal; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Lord bless our native land; in peace so preserve it that it corrupt not; in war so defend it that it suffer not. Thou hast planted this thy people in a goodly land and laid upon us a great trust. May we guard our heritage, not in pride of life, but reverently as from thee. Amen.

Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

## HYMN

Now thank we all our God,
With heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things hath done,
In whom his world rejoices,
Who from our mother's arms
Hath blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love,
And still is ours today.

O, may this bounteous God
Through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
And blessed peace to cheer us,
And keep us in his grace,
And guide us when perplexed,
And free us from all ills
In this world and the next.

## READING FROM THE SCRIPTURES

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;

To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of venge-
ance of our God; to comfort all that mourn.

And they shall build the old wastes, they shall raise up the former desolations, and they shall repair the waste cities, the desolations of many generations.

Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect in whom my soul delighteth; I have put my spirit upon him; he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles.

A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth.

He shall not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth.

And they that be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shall raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shall be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.

From the prophecy of Isaiah

"u" key obstinately refused to unstick itself once it was written. Obviously a case of a superiority complex and a desire to assert itself, but it tried our patience-- and also our ingenuity-- just try writing a letter without using any u's at all; it's quite a feat. Then as suddenly as the complex had shown itself, it disappeared. How Oscar subdued it, you and I will never know, but I just bet that one dark night when the smoking room was deserted the y and the i got together and told the u a thing or two. Possibly it was quite a struggle, but whatever the deed, the effect was a complete success.

There's a little lassie who lives on our floor whose welfare we have taken very much to heart. Her name is Arlene, she is an only child, and is not only very young but socially very immature. Over the past two or three months, the metamorphosis (whee!) has been terrific. She has taken up smoking (the power of suggestion), given up hibernating in her little room, generally lost her fear of our evil influence, and is turning into a regular little wit. (that says wit). She's really darn cute and making such a tremendous effort to get into the spirit of camaraderie (which is short for minding everyone else's business) that the other kids have gone out of their way to be amiable and pleasing. I'd like to be around when she starts going out on dates and gets kissed goodnight by her first swain. It's an incredible thing- this business of growing up. When I see Arlene, I feel completely motherly; or at least like a big sister, but then when I get introspective I feel equally as immature.

Am contemplating going down to New York next weekend to see my favorite people- Cynthia and Joe Yaswen and their two progeny. Likewise, my freshman year closest friend, Barby Damon who really defies description so I won't attempt it. She quit R'cliffe after the first two years and it's never been quite the same since she left it. Barby has a wayward sense of humor and an elastic set of morals but she's really a wonderful gal with a heart like Jonah's whale. She's been after me to come down for a weekend all winter and I think I'll probably go Saturday.

The weather is phenomenal. No, I won't tell you about the weather, that's a deadly thing to write about. But it rains and rains and rains.

Have just piles of work to get thru before this term is over and it's really hell grinding away day after day. I really do want to do a good job but it requires more effort than I seem to have, and it's a constant struggle to sit down with the books day after day. I'm so impatient with them.

This will have to do for today, Vic, but I'll write again in a little while. And I'll keep my fingers crossed forevermore. A bientot and always the half-expressed,

May

as far as the Continent is concerned, Russia is the pro-
gressive power and we are the conservative powers. We have,
altho solely for military expediency, made deals with local
fascists in more than one instance (Bagdolio) and we are
afraid of the encroachment of socialism in Europe. The small
and new nations of Europe will gravitate into the Russian
sphere of influence unless we find more to offer them than
the paper rights of free speech and freedom of the press, for
while Russia may not have these, she is their only guaran-
tee of food and shelter and economic liberty-- or dependence,
be that as it may; it's the food and shelter they want, not
the civil liberties.

All this would sound like pretty subversive stuff to a
guy like John Stagg Lawrence, vice pres. of the New York
Empire Trust Co. with whom I carried on a bitter correspon-
dence for a while. He is a very high-brow and clever Red-
baiter and I think he probably has stomach ulcers, too. Like
Pegler. I don't know as it is subversive, but I certainly
think that it's true and that we had jolly well better face
the facts. It is not a question of condoning or condemning
Russia's policy in Poland, Lativa, Lithuania, Estonia, Fin-
land, Austria, etc. We are in no position to pass moral jud-
gements. Wilde pointed out that for every fear we have or had
in this country about international Bolshevism, it is matched
in Russia with a fear of capitalist intervention, shades of
1919, when we sent troops to Archangel and Siberia. He also
asked us to consider for a minute that we were faced with a
hostile and powerful nation in northern South America similar
to Hitler's Germany, that Mexico had been a weak buffer state,
and that in the course of a victorious war against this en-
emy, we had occupied Mexico; how much public opinion in this
country would favor intervening in Mexico to make sure that
the new government there would be favorable to our own? For
my part, that argument is in more valid in its real light when
we consider that Poland has been Polish and Russian and Aust-
rain and so forth by turns for three centuries, and that Ger-
many and the Western Powers throughout the 19th century have
been hostile to Russia and that at Versailles, an effort was
made by the Allies to establish a Cordon Sanitaire between them
and Russia in order to keep the Bolshevik influence from
spreading. I'll go farther than Wilde did; I think that soc-
ialism or communism of the Marxist Russian variety is completely
inevitable in "eastern Europe and the Danubian region and that
if our capitalist democracies are as healthy as we like to think
they are, we have no reason to fear this. If they are not, we
do have reason to be afraid, but regardless, we have no reason
to take a hostile attitude which will only precipitate the break-
ing off of any friendly relations and lead us right into the next
war. It doesn't matter, it seems to me, how you look at it, or
whether for one reason or another you despise the Russian system
or worship it (either line is equally dangerous), if concessions
are not made to the Russians now and if we don't effect a real
rapprochement within the next ten years, it is our swan song.
All this leaves me in a very very pessimistic frame of mind. I
don't have any faith in our "liberal party" because what there
is of it is confined to the universities and the intellectuals
and the last ghost of the New Deal. If the US swings back to
economic nationalism under the guise of normalcy on a Republican
ticket, then I'm for the Fijii Islands-- altho I think Antarct-
ica might be better. I wish I could dip into the future as pro-

pehetically as Tennyson did in Locksley Hall; it may be bad verse but it was a damn true prediction. All this will probably leave you breathless if you've gotten this far. What really started me out was receiving via the mail, announcement of the establishment of a Conservative League at Harvard. Their platform is very vague -- words to the effect that we consider ourselves conservative in the same way that a man who dresses in good taste is considered a conservative dresser; that we do not believe a planned economy to be compatible with a capitalistic democracy and that we oppose the former; tempered with some sugared phrases about not opposing change, merely tempering it. That is a sad commentary. Because when youth turns conservative, they are decadent. G.B. Shaw said it, along with youth is a wonderful thing, too bad to waste it on children; but it's greatly to his credit. It's all so clear (from an historian's point of view- ahem) where we are going.

T'other night I happened to tune in on a late broadcast and heard Norman Corwin's new drama "On A Note of Triumph". I was so impressed with it that when I found it was being published in book form, I ordered a copy and shall send it on to you post haste.

The new catalog for next year is out; in fact we have to register for next fall's courses this week. I'm faced with a grim schedule: Geology I (that damn science requirement, still have half of it to fill), Music I which I have wanted to take since I was a freshman, Ec A, likewise and besides I don't know enough ec to argue intelligently or technically. And possibly Gov 8 which is Fainsod's course in Dictatorship and Bureaucracy and ought to be lively. There are so many more courses I want to squeeze in-- fine arts, some more phil, some modern lit courses.... and a sudden burning desire to study math, physics, and chem. With a private tutor... huh?

Have been helping Jeannie type out these complicated ballot forms of hers for her thesis. She borrowed a German elite print t'writer for the occasion and the thing really intrigues me. It's abeauty, with all the umlaut letters, the French accents, and c idilla (I don't know how to spell it) marks, pluses and carats and "nish pound signs. A real pleasure.. but now I run the risk of hurting Oscar's feelings and that would really wreck our correspondence.

Dolly called the other night in great excited glee to pass along the word. She had just heard on the same day that my brother Herb who is in India had been promoted to major and that Pete in the Caribbean had been promoted to 1st lieutenant. There has always been a great friendly rivalry among them about their promotions just like when we were younger we used to try to outdo each other in a hundred little different ways.. The war has really broken all our precedents, tho, of being permitted to drive the family car, come in later than midnight, smoke, increase in allowance, etc... everything seems to be out of chronological order now. Herb is way ahead-- altho they all got married in order, Herb was the first father. Now he's gone and outranked Fred who is the eldest and is still a captain. I can just hear him, too. .."oh, well, they promote them fast

in the air corps.. now when I was in Italy".. All justifiable and so very human. But I'm very pleased too, because it's a nice boost in morale and pay-check and since Herb has so little of permanence to come back to in the way of a job, his majority will be a bonanza. Pete and Nat will always get along-- but I'm right proud of my beautiful big brother with his silver bars. Rank-it's the root of so much evil. When I think of these little unstable guys like Casey Rogal coming back with their bars and sich to a rather unglorious and tame life, I shudder a little. I know about three such cases and for them it's going to be a major adjustment. Like the grasshopper of the grasshopper and ant fame, the world owes them a living... indeed it does, but it may not pay up in the manner to which they are accustomed.

Wandered in Schoenhof's book store the other ayem before a class and bought myself a 1944 Soviet edition of Krilov's fables in Russian. Krilov is to young Russia what Aesop is to our generation in short pants. Only he's funnier once you get him translated. Saw some beautiful editions of Tolstoi and Pushkin and contemplate attacking War and Peace in the original this summer. Contemplate... my usual Brahmin contemplation that never gets past the dreaming stage.

The time, however, seems to have come to return to Europe in the 19th century and to British Imperial policy and the Franco-Prussian war. When the term is over, I'll write you long letters about the green grass and the sun and the daytime soap operas or most anything you'd like to hear about. Right now I have only a one-track mind.

or two-track.

Thursday

Vic dear:

I don't know where to begin to tell you how much I love the etching or how sweet it was of you to send it. A day that began like any ordinary day turned into a far from ordinary one when I trotted home yesterday afternoon from the library to find your package. I was completely baffled by its shape, and because it was a surprise, it was just that much nicer. It's a fine picture, isn't it? But then you know because you picked it out, and I like half because it is a fine picture and half because you picked it out. You have such good taste! I can't stop looking at it; it's so completely expressive of sleep right down to the toes, and even the middle man's mustache droops at a sleepy angle. Thanks is such a little word to do such a big job, but thanks, so much. Won't you come up and see my etching?

Last night was Radcliffe night at Pops and well over half of the college turned out for the occasion. One of our old friends who graduated last June came in to visit us, and we 'x "hid" her in the dorm last night, in Pris' top bunk. We called Albany last night to talk to another member of last year's coterie and of course everybody had to talk to our dear Roscoe in Albany. The shock is tremendous; she's getting married in July. The idea isn't exactly new; they've been planning on it for two years now but when it suddenly becomes more than a plan, well, that's news. Cory and I have decided that even if the Rosc has too many sisters for us to be bridesmaids, we'll go carry her train or strew rose petals or something. The three of us were almost inseparable last spring and it would never do for her to get married without us. And then I always sit back and scratch my head and think, we do grow up, don't we?

But Pops was quite nice, for Pops, anyway, the program was less light and insubstantial than usual, and the two Radcliffe soloists were wonderful. The usual overture to Carmen and bits of Debussy, but some Beethoven, too. As a finale, they did some very hot jazz, with many grimaces and sliding trombones and it's always so funny to see the Pops orchestra get syncopated. I think they get as big a kick out of it as the audience does.

Jeannie and Pris and I all finish generals the same day a week from Friday. We plan to go out and have at least two cocktails before dinner and at least one drink after dinner and take a taxi home and fall into bed. And then Saturday we may go out to Rockport for the weekend, if we can scare up the de quoi-- that's French for wampum. Cory presented us yesterday with a most amazing fruit gift-- two (2) cartons (cartons) of cigarettes. (CIGARETTES).

We hope they'll see us thru.

You just stay out of bathtubs, bubble bath or no, see?
But it's nice to have a sort of second home to go to,
good food and good companionship thrown in. What is the
little one like?

Dolly writes that it looks like brother Pete is about
thru with his present assignment in the Caribbean, and
thinks he'll be transferred to China fairly soon. Chances
are he'll get home on leave before he goes, tho, and as
nice as that would be for all of us, it would be espec-
ially swell for Nat. I think it's harder for her than it
is for a good many absentee wives, because she is so en-
tirely dependent on Pete for everything-- more so than
~~most~~ most people ever learn to be dependent on one another.
They are about the two sweetest people I've ever known-
and I'm rather glad they're related to me...

It's hard to imagine anything lovelier than Cambridge
in late May when the sun shines on St. Peter and Paul's
steeple and the grass on the quad has been cut but not
yet raked. The bike racks are empty and up and down Gar-
den street half of Radcliffe pedals its way to and from
classes. Down along the Charles you find ensigns pushing
baby carriages and two year old towheads toddling along,
(what alliteration!) leading a merry chase. Externally,
life seems so peaceful; when I walk thru the square in
the morning and watch the housewives marketing with jun-
ior parked securely outside the door and the puppy on a
leash circling their legs, nothing seems very different.
But of course that's a dangerous fallacy and just escap-
ism. All it takes in one of Wilde's lectures to set me
straight again. And then it's so easy to go to the other
extreme and wonder if we'll ever learn how to live in
peace. It's such a tremendous job; and it won't ever do
to bury it under the pretense of a normal existence; peo-
ple have got to go on planning and worrying about these
things lest we all lose sight of them and slip right back
into the old rut.

Waiting for letters from you is at best a painful
procedure. But I go back and pretend to be studying and
hope for the next delivery. Just in case there is one
on the way, I'll hold this over till the afternoon mail,
and maybe squeeze in another page. But for now a very
warm and big thank you, Vic, you are so much too good to
me-

May

OPEN

VIA AIR MAIL

T-5 VICTOR KUMIN, 31469239
SPECIAL ENGINEERS DETACHMENT,
P.O. Box 180, SOUTA FE,
NEW MEXICO.

and if it comes to that, maybe we can work something out. Much as I want
you to come to L.R., it wouldn't be worth the gaff if you should get back
late. One t'other hand, if you could get in to LR, we might be able to
plan a short trip west; we could try anyway. Une question: which Thursday?
Possibly the 21st? I hadn't planned to get there till late that Thursday
night but with a little luck I might be able to catch a train out of New
York half a day earlier than originally scheduled and get there early Thur-
sday. I won't start switching reservations round till I hear from you.
Golly. And generals are a week from today, but my heart's not in it.

Our final lecture in French 12 today was quite a terrific thing. We
met in Fogg Museum and saw all sorts of slides of 19th century French art,
to illustrate the same trends in painting as there were in the lit of the
time. It was lots of fun; the kind of thing they ought to do more often
in this cockeyed field to tie in the loose threads. I sometimes think that
a house full of Daumier and Toulouse-Lautrec with some good New England
village scenes to rest the eye occasionally would be dandy. And a cabinet
full of Mozart concertos, most of all the A major and the E minor. The word
is idyllic.

First it was bubble bath and now it's blue convertibles... oh well.
I'm going to play bridge. In self-defense.

till soon, Vic. it has a very
special sound, doesn't it?

As members of the generation whose sons will be called upon to die in the third World War which the Knights of Columbus seems bent upon instigating, we would <u>un</u>like publicly to protest against the infamous resolutions agreed to in their fiftieth annual meeting May 26th in New York City. It seems only too obvious to us that willful and malicious re-baiting of this kind which brands the Soviet Union as the villain of an international revolutionary plot to overwhelm mankind must end by precipitating confusion and suspicion among the allies at a time when mutual understanding and compromise are essential to world security.

Every fear that certain Americans have of the "communization of the world" can be matched by the average Russian fear of international militant capitalism. These are not days to condemn or condone in a wholesale fashion either economic system. Our job-- and our delegates at San Francisco are fully conscious of it-- is to achieve a working harmony between the two and insure future world peace through mutual trust and understanding.

If the American public is taught to nurture a suspicious and largely unfounded fear of international communism, the peace is then lost. A capitalist democracy that is economically sound and pyschologically healthy will have nothing to fear from any propaganda, be it fascist or communist. Russia in the post-war world will become either our greatest ally or out chief enemy. That depends largely on American public opinion. We have no more to fear from Russian global domination than the world has to fear from American domination.

Let us suppose that the United States had struggled for several years against a powerful fascist state dominating South and Central America, and had with tremendous effort succeeded in destroying that power. Suppose that during the war we had found it necessary to occupy and fight in Mexico where fascist elements before the war had been equally as prevalent as they were in reality, in Poland. In the peace settlement, we believe that the American public would protest violently if the government made no attempt to see that a regime favorable to American interests were established in Mexico. Not one of us would consider intervention in this case as unju tified.

Let us take the same reasoning to the Polish question; let us not closeour eyes to both sides of an argument, and let us put world security over and above petty boundary disputes. This war has been fought against fascism;let us not lose the peace by clouding over the issue. Our generation is dying for the peace today; we will not see our sons die for it again tomorrow.

IT's still Monday

Dear Elephant:

There's certainly no need for a steamshovel, any
elephant who can't dig a cave with his trunk is just a pseudo-
elephant. Anyway, it's all off. In the first place, altho I took
out my photostatic copy of the Rosetta stone, I still couldn't
unscramble your letter. Enough of it had stuck to the envelope
to make it illegible all by itself, and if you think you can get
away with hieroglyphics, you'll have to provide me with a course
in archaeology first. Not only that, but after all the hours of
effort that went into those beautiful portraits I drew for you
to be told that I draw very badly! 'hat's the last watchbird
you'll get from me. We're thru. Maybe it's the haircut that did
it; are you sure it's not an acute case of sunstroke?

Anyway, Affairs of Susan has an immoral sound all by itself.
If this is a proposition, it's a hell of a way to go about it.
It's bad enough to have two dimensions; now you talk of six.
In the next incarnation we'll both be ectoplasms and then you 'll
be sorry.

Happy Jerry's Birthday Today.

EXAMINER

U.S. ARMY
EXAM

PARCEL
AVIOT

VIA AIR MAIL
CORREO AEREO

T-5 V. Kumin, 31469239

Special Engineer Detachment,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, New Mexico

VIA AIR MAIL
CORREO AEREO

T-5 Victor Kumin, 31469239,
Special Engineer Detachment,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, New Mexico

PAR
AVION

IV EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY

PAR EX
AVION

VIA AIR MAIL
CORREO AEREO

T-5 Victor M. Kumin, 3146 9239
Special Engineer Detachment,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe,
New Mexico.

I do still love to ride altho the thrill of pitchforking out a
dirty stable has gone. But pardon the nostalgia.

I talked to the folks just a little while ago and it seems that
chances are more than good that your three day pass won't have to
go to waste. By Tuesday I ought to know definitely, tho, what sort
of plans we can make, but I don't think it will be El Paso-- more
likely Amarillo, and I do hope so. I suppose I shouldn't say any-
thing untill things are more certain, but I couldn't resist clear-
ing away some of our mutual gloom in advance. And so-- we just go
on waiting...

Janie and I too are all enthused about our summer and we should
know almost any day now more definitely that we are to have her
aunt's house for two months. If I don't get back to C'bridge until
the 6th or 7th of July, I don't quite know what sort of job I'll
get, but it will probably be at the defense plant with her as that
is the most accessible and means we'll be keeping the same hours
which are unreasonable enough. Life somehow always seems to be in
a state of flux and it vacillates back and forth so much from day to
day that we have trouble keeping up with it. No wonder if we all
develop schizophrenic personalities from alternating joy and gloom
in our see-saw fashion.

Even San Francisco looks more promising this morning; once we
struggled thru the corssword (our Sunday ayem occupation) we went
on to the Charter which is printed in full; annawful lot of high-
flown phrases with a Wilsonian strain to them, but so much of an
achievement in the light of 1919.

And so, Vic, as soon as I have some concrete news, a long letter.
Beware of details, and enjoy the stables; I enjoyed your letter so
much.

EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY EXAM

P.O. BOX 2033
EXAMINER S

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

VIA AIR MAIL
CORREO AEREO

T-5 U. M. Kumin, 31469239
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe,
New Mexico.

EXAMINER U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

VIA AIR MAIL
CORREO AEREO

T-5 Victor Kumin, 31469239,
Special Engineer Detachment,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

and in unison pray in Allahesque fashion, "Oh
Manitoh, bring rain to Watitoh!" But not infrequently we were joined by the Arts and Crafts staff who were swamped with campers when the weather was bad, who prayed, Oh Manitoh, keep rain from Watitoh! It was quite a cult.

This is a long letter full of nonsense, but I'm too apathetic to be very intelligent. These are the days who we wonder why we ever came to 'adcliffe, and remember grimly a newsreel that recently played at the Ut-- in technicolor displaying the charms of a female institution called Rawlins colleg where they major in archery and ride horseback and perfect their bridge games. I'm sure this sounds like griping but it isn't meant to, because you know I wouldn't trade it for the world.

But I rather think I'll join Mack in the next tub and finish up the gov. reading. I'm so glad you wired, Vic, and that we'll have almost four whole days. I wonder if there's a zoo in Amarillo???

Mat

P.S. Oui- vive la différence.... quelle différence!

unbasely they had not made their greatest impression on him.

## French Lacked Power

British intrigues or no British intrigues, the crux of the matter comes to this. When, on the morrow of the defeat suffered by the Vichy forces in July, 1941, the Free French undertook to fulfill the mandate held under the League of Nations, they had to do it without the prestige which, particularly in Asiatic countries, accrues to the presence of numerous and well-equipped troops.

British and not French military power is strongly represented on the spot, and it was open to the natives to make invidious comparisons. In such circumstances, the wisest course for the French would have been probably to give up the attempt. Anyhow, the only chance of success France had was that the British should never allow the surrounding populations to feel that they did not stand wholeheartedly with the French regime. So much they did not do.

All through the centuries Syria has been the classic field of Anglo-French rivalry. There French and British have been pitted against each other with bodies of clients, dependents and adherents behind them. What is happening now was in the cards from the outset.

Women's Daughters of the North

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

U. S. A.

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

AIR MAIL

T-5 Victor Kumin, 31469739
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe,
New Mexico.

EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

AIR MAIL

T-5 Victor Kumin, 31469239

JUN 19

0300PM

1945

MASS.

EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY EXA

AIR MAIL
---

T-5 Victor Kumin, 31469 239
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe,
New Mexico.

U.S. ARMY EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

T-4 Victor Kumin, 31469239
Special Engineer Det.
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, N. M.

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

U. S. A

AIR MAIL

T-4 Victor Kumin, 31469239
Special Engineer Detach.,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, N. M.

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

AIR MAIL

T-4 Victor Kumin, 31469239
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, N. M.

AIR MAIL

T-4 Victor Kumin, 312/69239
Special Engineer Detachment,
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

U. S. ARMY EXAMINER

U. S. 1

AIR

MAIL

T-4 Victor Kumin, 31469239
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, N.M.

AIR

MAIL

T-4 Victor Kumin. 31469239
Special Engineer Detachment
P.O. Box 180, Santa Fe, NM

Tuesday

Hello my darling:

Look who's come home-- the wanderer himself, slightly the better for some face-lifting, but very much the old Ozzie except that he can now say 33333 whee--33333!!!. It's been so long... and boy is it a pleasure to be able to talk to you again like a normal human being, errors et al.

Had a very wacky busy day, busy full of monkey business, but alleesame. Up betimes as usual, altho since it's so late now I have a reprieve tomorrow and expect to s-l-e-e-p a little; practised nearly four hours in near despyar but was summat rewarded for my efforts. It doesn't pay to be a perfectionist when you have as bum an ear for music and as unnimble fingers as I at ye piano. If in Feb. I can play you a Mozart sonata, I will be highly gratified. That so far is the summit of my ambish.

Then with grim determination I toted out the mop, the carpet sweeper, the broom, and the dustcloth and fell to work with much carolling of all the ballads Lynn ever taught me to make the work less tedious. Never the less, it was no delusion, and it was past noon by the time the house was passably tidy. By that time Dolly had sallied forth to town in our mutual brown suit and I was left to the kitchen, which looks a little like Pandora's box must have when she opened it, and the painter. The painter is Mr. Burdell, a colored man of culture, sweetness and light. A graduate of the univ. in Lincoln, Nebraska, and the U. of Paris; gassed in the last war, two sons in this one, paints becuz he likes to work with his hands and it is "clean" (oh yeah) work. We had quite an extended chat together during which time he told me that his young son, of delicate health, is a student at the U. of New Mexico, of all places... he has been to Alby and it was like finding a bottle of water in the desert. We talked about religion and race relations and the usual things and then Bobby popped in for a visit so we retired to the porch to schmoose(!) a bit--- everything is going most well between her and this aforementioned Bud Myers-- he seems to be quite serious and I pray to the blessed saints that he will pop the question becuz I do truly think that marriage is the one thing that would give her a new lease on

life. Natch I had to hear all the details of that and
then we talked about you for a while and once again, it
was a sweet thing to talk to someone who knows you-- or
at least has met you. Uncle Sam is still trying to get
oot, but to no avail as yet. He's coming east on leave
this month and no doubt I'll see him while he's here.
And by the way, we swapped pictures, i.e., she gave me
the prints of usn's and I gave her the prints of her'ns
and now I have you in my wallet and by my bed as well as
in my heart... but I had forgotten entirely what you wrote
on her pictures, and was my face red when I handed them
over.' You bad boy-- that(s one antipathy honey youse
gonna get over, yes, no?

Dolly arrived home about 4 only to remember with
dismay that she had invited the Ryans to dinner long be-
fore we had ever dreamed in an idle moment of having the
kitchen painted or ever expected Pop to dig up a painter.
It was a hot sketch trying to cook a roast, toss up a
spring salad and so forth in that chaotic shambles; white
paint, beads of sweat, and simultaneaus giggles. Once we
got the roast safely tucked away and other chores done we
started to kibitz around for a first course. Wit plus im-
agination plus sheer nonsense-- we made watermelon balls
out of the remains of our precious one-ton w-melon, cut
halloweenish cantelopes, and filled them and put them
decoratively on large maples leaves atop paper plates...
Dolly is a pack of fun, and thank god she still loves to
be silly, tho she's old enuff to be my mother-- not only
that, she is, by gum! We scooted off like naughty children
to shower and dress before the breadwinner arrived and
found to our mutual amusement that we had both put on our
twin red gingham dresses. There was a twinkle in Pop's
eye when he said he didn't know which was the mother and
which the datter. but I love him for it, and I love my
lighthearted mere- she is such a good sport.

The Ryans are Marcia's parents, altho sometimes too,
I wonder about that as they seem to belong more to ouf
generation than anyone else's. Phil and Marcia have been
married exactly three weeks, and up to yesterday had an
apt. in Coronado-- Phil just got his sailing orders and
Marcia is now en route home again. She's a swell gal,
I know you'll like her, and the Ryans are better than
swell; they are forthright and interested and modern
and both have keen senses of humor. Mr. R. and I got off

on a vicious tangent; he claiming that there is no
difference between Franco in Spain and Stalin in Russia
and I for the sake of argument if nothing else setting
out to prove that there is a vast diff. Not only that,
but he thinksthat Laski is the biggest crackpot in the
world and a very dangerous man which I secretly receive
as a very bitter personal insult. Despite the fact that
like my vice-prexy Bill Faas, he is somehwat right of
center, he is a peach. Next week we promised a sequel
to discuss the economics aspects of socialism (about
which I am totally ignorant) and however much we argue,
it never grows bitter. I still cannot argue unemotion-
ally altho I do try. But if I believe in a thing I can't
help but believe it as personally as matters that afe
my direct private concern-- and for him to say that Laski
was wrong in taking an aggressive stiff attitude toward
Franco- well, I wince. I can't help it. Incidentally, am
tracking down the last 60 pages of Schumpie and it will be
on its way to you in a few days-- so clear the decks of
Dostoievski.

We also talked about Zionism, and the Ryans are the
only Gentile people I have ever known who do not favor it.
If I were a Gentile, I'd be all for it, too, as most of
them are. After all, for them it is an easy and logical
out. But the more I read about that, the less violently
opposed I am to a Jewish national state. I think that wheth
er we like it or not, it will come, and since allowing
the 50,000 odd Jewish refugees of Europe who either have
no homes to return to or who prefer Palestine to returning
to an anti-Semitic community, to go to Zion is the only
expedient policy, it is folly to expect such an artificial-
ially created state to remain under British mandate or
politically or economically subservient to the Arab popu-
lation which is far less culturally developed. Therefore,
ergo, a national state. And what are you going to do about
it?

Our mailman is so sweet. Yesterday when he brought
me three letters from you he beamed with pride; today when
ayem and pm he came empty handed he delivered me a long
lecture to the effect that after all you had other things
to do but to be allus writin', and squelched, I agreed.
He suggested that you might be suffering from writers'
cramp but promised faithfully to do better tomorrow.

Also found a half hour somewhere to trot down into

the garden, Maud, and pick huge bunches of flox, white,
light pink, and a deeper violet, several lovely light
pink roses, piles of hardy zinnias, and some unhappy
petunias. Have always loved to fuss with flowers altho
my results are usually more bizarre than decorative.
I'd ruther grow unutilitarian garden flowers than carrots
any year, and anyway the squirrels got all our corn this
year, most of the veggytibbles were rained out except the
string beans and the moral of that story is, next year,
no damn victory garden. We have all at one time or antoher
watered that thing with our own personal perspiration,
and the thanks we got this year were close to nil.

Tomorrow ayem Dolly is going to Atlantic City to
visit her sister for a few days and tho I extended an ur-
gent invite to Jeannie to come idle a while with us here,
I'm very much afriad she won't take me up on it. Do wish
she would appear tomorrow, tho.

Your lovely roses are finally fading as of the
last r-se of s-mm-r but they were so nice while they last-
ed, and a tangible reminder that the little prince has
found a home in a heart every big as roomy as his own.
Vic, I am going to be *spoiled* so spoiled if you keep all
this lovable nonsense up that I won't be able to live it
down. And when I become temperamental and sulky and you
have to hit me over the head with a *shelai* shelailey, you
will begin to regret it. It seems impossible that I could
love you any more than I do, and yet every day I find anew
that I love you just that one day greater which is in it-
self an impressive amount. Where does the pendulum stop??

Won't you be glad when this paper runs out, I
will; it's a damn nuisance. Back to full length sheets,
and unfortunately, down with the embroidery.

Dolly brung me two presents from town. (Under
heading of how to overindulge your children) A crew shirt
of red 'n blue and a luscious white Braemar sweater which
I haveput away for the C'bridge winter. I do not even pro-
test; they are lovely.

And we come to the end of another day; I am all
in all glad to see it go. One day closer to you, my darling
and one day surer that I love you I love you I will always
love you.

MAY