Native Girls Do Not Appeal

Lieut. Gilbert Steingart
U.S.S. Ocelot, F.P.O. San Francisco
Saturday 30 June 1945, 10:15 PM
Dearest Eleanor,
          Hello Honey how is my sweet?  For me today was just like any other day away from you.  I had my usual program of work this morning. After lunch I joined a few officers going ashore for a few drinks.
          We left at 2:00 PM and arrived some thirty minutes later.  At about 3:30 it began to rain and it poured until 4:30.  However I didn't mind as we had a good place to sit and drink without getting all wet (on the outside of course).  At 5:00 PM we returned to the ship
          After chow I laid down in my bunk until movie time.  The picture tonight was a repeat, "The Falcon in Hollywood."  There were also three shorts so we had a full program.  Now here I am.
          The mail today brought me three letters postmarked the 21st and 22nd of June, so here goes. You certainly don't have to remind me of Norma's birthday.  I pray that I'll never miss another of hers, Linda's or yours, ever.
          Out this way there are no purses like the one I sent Linda but I'll keep an eye peeled for something she'll like as well.
          Leon's report of the large numbers of dentists bears out my argument that I'll be relieved before my eighteen months are up.
          Again, don't worry about me.  I'm very careful and I'm not falling through any hatches.  Forget it!  As for native girls--whether I'm drunk or sober they do not appeal to me.  No one does.  I just want you.
          The way they are working things now, officers get orders to report immediately for oversea duty.  No leaves are being given. At most any time, Leon may get orders to shove out.  As short as they are of doctors in the states, they are even shorter of them out here.
          There is nothing more for now, Honey, so I'll sign off.  Goodnight and pleasant dreams.
Love,
Gil

P.S. I'm returning Linda's art.  I don't want to lose it.