6 March 44
Say, I am really beginning to think I'm a forgotten man - no mail yet. The mail is all screwed up here but if I don't get some mail this week - will have to write to the President or something.
Am trying to get my letters to you as much as possible cause they tell us we're not going to have much time when we start school.
Our day states at 4:45 AM + we get thru' at about 6 P.M. Then we have to change into D.D.'s to get into the mess hall to eat. I am in charge of a flight of 20 men. Am responsible for their presence + have to drill them an hour or 2 a day + convey them + myself to lectures all over the base.
The dust is beginning to blow constantly. The weather is nice, the sun is warm but the wind is a chilly one which comes off the mountains which surround the place. The skin on my face is really taking a beating. It peels all the time + is getting more + more windburnt [sic.].