The American Lieutenant

By Peyton Garver

Lieutenant Garrett Harkins, a US paratrooper stationed in Wiltshire, England during World War 2, leads his platoon through the largest airborne operations of the war: Normandy, Netherlands, and Belgium. Between campaigns, Garrett defies orders when he pursues a forbidden romance with Sophia, a young British heiress. While deployed and fighting in Europe, Garrett struggles with fear, morality, and guilt. He draws strength from believing that Sophia reciprocates his feelings and awaits his safe return.
Sophia Wells is fighting her own war. She became interested in the American lieutenant while struggling over the end of a childhood infatuation with James, a young British officer who has finally come to realize he does indeed reciprocate her feelings, and wants her back in his arms.
Will the bond between the American Lieutenant and his newfound love survive the tragedies of war and a former love, or become a casualty of both?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491850565

Peyton Garver

Peyton Garver is an ebook author. She is a member of the Historical Novel Society and an associate member of Romance Writers of America. Peyton attended Towson State University where she earned her degree with a major in education. She has since been teaching history and science to students in Baltimore County and Montgomery County, Maryland. Peyton lives with her husband in the suburbs of Washington D.C..

Book preview

Chapter 1

Wiltshire, England

September 1943–June 1944

Lieutenant Garrett Harkins had been in Hungerford, England, for three weeks, and had settled into some semblance of a routine. On his way back from the showers, Garrett spotted the jeep in front of the Nissen hut that served as barracks for him and six other lieutenants in their Paratrooper Infantry Unit. He wondered what order was being handed out on a Sunday morning as he entered the hut just behind Sergeant Blevins.

Looking for Lieutenant Harkins, he here? the sergeant asked the men inside.

Harkins here, Garrett announced from behind him.

Sir, you have orders to report to Colonel Blakely at regimental headquarters, main house. You’ll be staying for dinner. Dress appropriately, formal.

A heads up? Garrett inquired.

No idea, sir. I’ll be back to pick you up at 1600 hours.

Garrett sighed, hoping they would finally get some information about the details of their impending mission. With the overwhelming number of troops being brought into Britain from the States and Canada, there was no doubt something big was in the works. He checked his watch; several hours remained before the sergeant would be back for him.

Stew, he said to the second lieutenant who bunked next to him, looks like you guys’ll be playing a man down this afternoon. Maybe Mitch can stand in for me. Damn! He tidied his bunk and then pulled out his dress uniform from his footlocker. He hadn’t worn it since he’d earned his wings a year ago. He brushed his hand swiftly over the dark-olive wool jacket; it would have to do.

Mitch and Creswell are in London for weekend leave, Stewart said. Don’t worry about it, we’ll find someone. Hey, keep me posted, will ya?

Sure thing.

*     *     *

Sergeant Blevins showed up at exactly 1600 hours. Lieutenant Harkins, change of plans. You’re to bring your footlocker and all other personal items. You’re being relocated to HQ.

Sergeant, is my assignment changing? Garrett felt a stab of anxiety for Henry, the young sergeant in his platoon who reminded him of his younger brother Pete. Although he knew it was safe here at camp, he always kept a watchful eye over the boy. He had vowed to himself to get Henry back to the States safely, even though he knew it might be a pledge he couldn’t keep.

Sorry, sir. They don’t tell me nothin’.

Anything.

Sir?

Never mind. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Give me a hand here?

Blevins took the opposite handle of the footlocker and helped Garrett load it into the jeep.

When they arrived at the main house, which was partially requisitioned for the headquarters of the Airborne Paratrooper Infantry Regiment, Blevins dropped Garrett off at the front door.

Sir, your gear will be delivered to your room. You are to report directly to Colonel Blakely in his office. The staff will show you the way once you’ve entered.

Garrett stepped out of the jeep, took in the stately Italianate mansion, and then entered. Once inside, he noticed that the interior was typical of the Neo-Renaissance leaning toward opulent baroque; it reminded him a bit of home. The lavish grand foyer, with marble floors and mahogany-paneled walls, had a broad flight of steps coming down from the second floor. He stood in the center of the foyer waiting for the staff as directed. Instead, a portly British officer greeted him in a manner that surprised Garrett enough that he didn’t immediately respond.

"Wie gehts, Garrett? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" [How’s it going, Garrett? Do you speak German?]

Garrett looked curiously at the British major.

The major said, "Ich habe Sie gefragt." [I asked you a question.]

"Es tut mir leid aber Sie überrascht mich. Ja, Ich Kann sprechen ein bisschen Deutsch. Warum fragen Sie?" [I’m sorry, but you surprised me. Yes, I can speak a bit of German. Why do you ask?]

"Et en francais? Parlez vou français?" [And French? Do you speak French?]

"Oui. Je parle français. Je parle couramment," Garrett responded, thinking, Much better than German.

Since the major hadn’t yet responded to Garrett’s question, he thought it best not to speak until spoken to, so stood quietly, sizing up the man who was apparently quizzing him.

Colonel Blakely entered the room. What do you think, Major Bell?

Garrett stood immediately rigid at attention, saluting his superior. At ease, Lieutenant, the colonel said after returning his salute. Garrett assumed the position.

The British officer, Major Bell, continued. I’ve only just greeted him. I’ll be better able to judge his aptitude as we progress. His French accent is right on the mark. He claims to be fluent, and he sounds like a native speaker. While his German is lacking in pronunciation, he seems to know the basics. I expect he’ll be understood. Did you study languages? he asked, turning back to Garrett.

I only took the mandatory foreign language requirements at West Point, sir. I really only have a basic foundation in German. My French is much better. My mother was French.

We’re going to need native speakers in the field. The major turned to Colonel Blakely. We can give him a trial as an interpreter tomorrow and test his fluency in French. I have two exiled French officers arriving here from London in the morning. They’ve been residing in Britain since the German occupation. They have a connection to the French Underground Resistance. He turned back to Garrett. Lieutenant Harkins, you will need to be accessible tomorrow. I’ll pass on the time to Colonel Blakely. You are to follow up and be here prior to the appointment.

Thank you, Major. Tomorrow, then, Blakely said, giving the British major a nod before turning to Garrett. Come with me to my office, Lieutenant. As Garrett followed, Blakely said, When you report to my office, you may enter if the doors are open. However, if the doors are closed, always knock and wait for an invitation to enter. Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Taking a seat behind his desk, Blakely motioned to a chair. Have a seat Lieutenant. Your new quarters will be here in Ramsford Park House. Two others from your company will be sharing your room. We’re not removing you from your company. You will continue to oversee your platoon in PT, practice maneuvers, combat exercises, night ops, and reconnaissance activities, unless you are serving in your new role. You are being moved here so that you will be accessible, as needed, for translation and strategic planning. Blakely cleared his throat. So, you graduated from West Point?

The fact that they shared the alma mater was not lost on Garrett. Yes, sir.

The colonel regarded the young officer appreciatively before continuing. "What you hear within these walls will only be discussed with the officers present, and only at that time. You are not to divulge anything you hear in discussions, no matter how trivial it seems to you: not to your roommates or anyone else. Second Lieutenant Stewart Henderson and Sergeant Henry Mercer will be rooming with you here. It’s not typical that two lieutenants head a platoon, but because of your unique position, Second Lieutenant Henderson will back you up and assume leadership with your platoon while you are otherwise engaged here. It’s also highly unusual for us to arrange for looeys to bunk with NCOs, but I want you to have a feed into what’s going on behind the scenes with your men. I don’t want your work here to displace the progress you’ve made with your platoon. Most of the rest of the regimental staff is housed in the hall over the portrait gallery.

You are dismissed. Oh, Lieutenant! Your gear is in your room. We will be having dinner with the Wells family. You and Second Lieutenant Henderson will be expected to dine with members of headquarters command, and the residents who are present, every Sunday at 1830 hours, unless you are on leave. This is at their request. This house is only partially requisitioned, they have retained the use of one hall. Do not enter that hall. We will respect their privacy as much as possible. The family also retains a home in Scotland. It is my understanding that the three younger children, twin girls and another son, are in Scotland and will be remaining there indefinitely as it is safer. You will be bunking in the daughters’ room with Henderson and Mercer. Upstairs, second room on the left. Get cleaned up. Dismissed.

Garrett looked up toward the second floor from the grand foyer. Upstairs, he thought. Okay. He ascended the stairs, and at the top there were two directions from which to choose. Second room on the left, from which hall? He proceeded to the left and tentatively turned the doorknob to the second door on the left. Caught by surprise as he peered in, he was suddenly glad he didn’t barge into the room. Not daring to pause long enough to look at the mirror, he quickly pulled the door shut until the latch clicked. He then moved hastily to the adjacent hallway. That must be the hall he was not to enter.

The next room Garrett entered had his footlocker next to the first bed. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his thoughts returning to the forbidden hallway. He grinned in spite of himself. Colonel Blakely would have his ass, bust his rank, and put him right back in that Nissen hut if he knew. She was gorgeous. Her wavy dark brown hair cascaded to just below her bare shoulders. He recalled her perfect, svelte form from the back slipping her arm into her blouse as she looked down in the dim light—her small waist, the gentle curve of her hips, her shapely legs. What a faux pas; no one could know this happened. Garrett hoped he had pulled back fast enough. Had she seen him in the mirror of her armoire? He knew, dressed as she was, she would hardly follow him into the hall. Folding his hands behind his head, he fell back onto the bed as he looked up at the ceiling. "This is not going to be easy," he whispered.

*     *     *

At exactly 1828 hours, Garrett entered the dining room known as the great hall. Right on time, Colonel Blakely stated. Dr. and Mrs. Wells, I would like to present Lieutenant Harkins, who will now be residing here with headquarters command. Lieutenant, this is Dr. and Mrs. Wells and their eldest son and daughter, Wing Commander Wells and Miss Sophia Wells.

Nice to meet you. I’m Duncan, the young British officer stated as he extended his hand. My father is also an officer, a surgeon for the Armed Forces of the Crown.

Garrett heartily shook hands with both men. Mrs. Wells then offered her hand to Garrett, who leaned forward to take it in both of his.

Nice to meet you, he said as he shook her hand while giving her an appreciative smile. To Sophia, he gave a nod and subtle smile as he looked into her deep blue eyes before abruptly turning away.

Taken by his athletic build and perfectly well-defined handsome features, Sophia was caught off guard. Lieutenant Harkins took her breath away. She met his limpid blue eyes with her own, briefly, before he turned. She watched as the lieutenant raked his fingers through his sandy-brown hair, pushing it back. His uncooperative hair immediately flopped back down, just over his forehead. She held back a smile as she watched, most certainly in awe of this new American officer. Yet, she was disappointed in his manner toward her.

After clearing his throat, Duncan nudged his sister, interrupting her reverie. When Sophia scowled back at him, she noticed her parents had caught her studying the new lieutenant, causing her to blush once more.

Garrett wondered if anyone else noticed the awkward pause. She noticed his slight blush, and instantly suspected it was he who had opened her door earlier. That would explain his peculiar disposition. Biting her lower lip, she smiled thinking she hoped he liked what he had seen. Sophia turned and confidently walked to her seat. He glanced nervously at her from the corner of his eyes as she sashayed off.

Garrett sat next to Duncan at the thick-oak banquet table and was quick to engage in conversation with him about the difficulties of maintaining the airfields on Britain’s East Coast. The Luftwaffe’s annoying strikes had been becoming more frequent and the runways were now pockmarked with huge craters.

Seated directly across from her brother and the new American lieutenant, Sophia wondered how she could break into their conversation. Deciding she had no chance, she merely observed. He was aware, making it difficult for him not to take notice. However, the lieutenant just didn’t think it would be a good idea to become familiar with her.

Why did Mother insist Sophia attend these dinners? At least now there was something, or rather someone, for her to look forward to. Hoping to engage him in conversation, she chanced a direct glance. Garrett, avoiding eye contact, turned to the young officer on his left.

Sophia addressed her brother instead. Duncan, have you named the new colt you brought in yesterday?

I have. Blaze. Sophie, I want you to stay away from him for now. He’s not yet broken. Murphy’s going to start working him in the morning. He’s giving him a chance to settle down a bit today.

With her fingertips, she absently traced the scar on her collarbone. You needn’t worry about that, Duncan. I’m happy to be occupied with Molly.

Duncan gave his sister a knowing look; he understood her apprehension. I’m meeting Murphy after dinner. Why don’t you come with me and have a look-see?

Listening intently to their conversation, Garrett chuckled. No one knows horses like the Irish.

Brother and sister both turned and looked at him keenly. Duncan gave him a crooked, curious grin, while Sophia looked satisfied that she had his interest, even if only for a moment.

Well, that’s what my father always said. Garrett cleared his throat, gave a sheepish grin for having intruded, and then turned back to the officer.

You know horses? Duncan asked, drawing him back. He seemed different from the other Americans.

Sure, Garrett responded. I have some experience.

Why don’t you join us then?

I’d like that.

We’ll meet you there. The stable is in the far back corner of the grounds.

After dinner, Sophia pointedly asked her mother what she thought of the new lieutenant and why, before dinner, he shook everyone’s hand but hers. Her mother scoffed. That bothered you?

Well, you have to admit it was rather rude, she said, baiting her mother to disagree.

"I’m sure he doesn’t think so. It’s expected that he shake hands with the men, and I offered my hand to him. It’s rude to shake a lady’s hand if she doesn’t offer it. I thought you knew that. It’s considered presumptuous, not becoming of a gentleman. I’ve a feeling he is of a different caliber than his peers."

Sophia giggled. Yes, I noticed that. Did you see that he didn’t keep trading his fork from his left to his right hand like the other Americans? And, when he was finished he placed them correctly.

Sophia, I wasn’t watching him so closely, Mrs. Wells admonished. You know, I’m not sure why Americans eat like that, though. It seems so clumsy.

Would you approve of him?

What do you mean? But she knew exactly what her daughter was thinking. You know your father and I would disapprove of any American. They are our guests and might be likeable, charming, she smiled at her daughter before adding, and very handsome, but you need to remember they are only here for a short time. Besides, I’d wager Lieutenant Harkins is engaged, if not married.

"Mother, I saw no ring, and engaged is not married."

Sophia, don’t play games. The consequences could be ugly. Trying to refocus her daughter, she smiled before adding, You know, Duncan said that James is nearly finished with his pilot training. He’ll have some leave time before being assigned to a specific unit, probably sometime in November.

Ugh! she coughed. Don’t even think it, Mother! James made it perfectly clear how he feels about me. Still affected, she felt the heat flash through her face recalling her humiliation.

"Whatever do you mean? James was always as fond of you as you were of him."

"Was, Mother, the key word is was. There is nothing, nor will there be anything, between us now. Even as she said it she felt a tightening knot of dread forming in her chest. Changing the subject, she smiled at her mother to cover her distress. I’m heading up to the stable with Duncan to see his new colt." She didn’t mention that she was certainly looking forward to meeting the new lieutenant at the stable.

Mrs. Wells looked on after her daughter and was more than a little concerned. She wasn’t quite sure how to rein her in, and was somewhat thankful that the new lieutenant didn’t seem as taken with her daughter as her daughter was with him.

Chapter 2

Major Preston approached Garrett. Lieutenant Harkins, I’d like to show you around headquarters, help you get acclimated. Meet me back here in one hour.

Yes, sir, Garrett replied. The major dismissed him then joined Colonel Blakely and Dr. Wells.

Before heading out to the stables where he would find Duncan and his newly acquired steed, Garrett changed into his duty uniform. He noticed the stable was just visible from his bedroom window.

In the foreground of the stable was a jumping course next to a riding ring. The stable was an impressive stone structure with two prominent gables projecting out from where, Garrett was sure, there was a sizeable loft. It would only take him a couple of minutes to get there. He grinned as he saw Duncan on his way there with Sophia.

Duncan and another man were already in a deep discussion when Garrett entered the stable. Garrett approached Sophia, who was stroking the forehead of a full-grown sorrel mare in the stall closest the entrance. The gentle mare nuzzled into Sophia’s open hand. So, this is Molly? Garrett asked. She’s a beauty.

Yes, Sophia said smiling. He had been paying attention. This is Molly. Do you ride?

You could say that. He firmly patted Molly’s shoulder, adding, She seems calm. Garrett knew he had to be tactful when addressing Sophia. Not only was she off-limits, but he was most definitely not available.

Calm? Sophia replied. Much more so than Duncan’s new colt. Come. She led Garrett to the stall where Duncan and the man were appraising a skittish black colt with a wide white blaze down the middle of his face.

Do you think they’ll geld him? he asked her.

She laughed. You do know a bit about horses. I doubt it. Duncan is considering breeding him. Come on then. She turned toward the others.

"Lieutenant Harkins, this is Kieran Murphy. He’s our trainer. No one knows horses better." As Sophia made the introduction, she and Duncan exchanged a mischievous glance. Garrett grinned good-naturedly, recognizing the connection to his comment at dinner. Murphy, a slight middle-aged man with a weathered face, smiled at the compliment and extended his leathery, calloused hand to Garrett.

Nice to meet you, Garrett said as he firmly shook Murphy’s hand before turning to Blaze. He’s young. Is he quarter horse, or a mix of thoroughbred and quarter horse?

"Very astute. He is a cross, not quite two years. So, Duncan continued, what’s your area? Do you play polo?"

Polo? No. Garrett laughed. I mostly enjoy just riding, and I compete in steeplechase: it’s a really good time. He looked back at Blaze. Did you acquire him for polo?

Initially, that was the plan. I was hoping to get my younger brother involved. But with my military obligations that’s all unsettled now. I’m leaving it in Murphy’s hands. To pull his sister into the conversation, Duncan casually added, Sophia show jumps with Molly. They’re quite a team.

Garrett smiled at Sophia. I noticed the jumping course from my window.

Well, I haven’t really competed for four years. But, I still practice as often as I can.

Because of the war? Garrett asked.

She nodded.

When this war is over, I bet you’ll be the best around, he said with an endearing lopsided grin. After checking his watch, he added, Looks like I should get going. I have a meeting in about ten minutes. Nice meeting you, Murphy. Before turning to leave, he thanked Duncan and Sophia for showing him around.

*     *     *

We’ll keep this informal, Major Preston remarked to Garrett as they walked out of the great hall where they had dined and began the tour in the portrait gallery, a long room with an extraordinarily high ceiling and six immense windows that lined the opposite wall. Ancestral portraits adorned the walls. As he looked around, Garrett noticed a grand piano in the far corner of the gallery. He wondered if anyone in the family played.

This is where most of the regimental staff parties are held, the major said. We also conduct various meetings here when we need extra seating. Most of the regimental staff are housed in the hall above this room. There is only one hall inaccessible to us. The Wells family retains use of that hall. It is the hallway upstairs to the left if you are ascending the main staircase from the foyer.

Garrett simply nodded, giving nothing away as he thought, Of that, I am well aware.

The major led him to the colonel’s study, where Garrett would be expected to be present as a translator as needed. "I believe you have already met with Colonel Blakely in this room. Just remember if the door is closed, always knock and wait. If you are expected and the door is open, you may enter and announce yourself as reporting for duty."

From there he led Garrett to the courtyard behind the manor. He pointed to a balcony with an open French door. That’s my room. I don’t think the colonel knew the story about that room before I was assigned! Apparently in the 1700s, a woman committed suicide by throwing herself from the balcony of the room to the walkway below, killing both herself and her unborn child. She had discovered her husband was having an affair with her sister. After losing his family because of his own indiscretion, the husband sat on the bed in that room and shot himself in the head with a pistol, effectively ending his branch of the family tree. The room is said to be haunted. That’s a bunch of hogwash! I sleep like a rock in that room.

Obviously his superior was waiting for him to comment, so Garrett hastily remarked, "Sir, just on the premise that the story was probable, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable in that room."

"It’s gonna be a lot worse than that in the field. You won’t be sleeping unless you have unbridled trust in your men, and even then you won’t be sleeping much. Mark my words!" Preston regarded his subordinate and pitied him for what inevitably lay in store for the young officer.

I do trust my men, Garrett responded gravely, without hesitation. This brought them to the true purpose of the interview. The remaining discussion seemed to focus on how well Garrett knew the men in his platoon. Preston questioned Garrett about some of the men in his charge and their talents. There was no doubt that this young officer knew his men thoroughly. He was quick to identify the strengths of the sergeants under him, and even some of his enlisted troops that served on the mortar team and rifle squad. Harkins did indeed express profound confidence in their abilities. But, then of course, the PIR was made up of an elite group of men.

Preston focused the conversation on one of the men with whom Garrett would be sharing his room. Sergeant Mercer will be bunking with you and Second Lieutenant Henderson. You do realize that, other than Blevins, he is the only NCO housed here?

Yes, sir. The colonel has informed me. Where was he going with this? Colonel Blakely had drummed this in loud and clear.

Familiarity breeds contempt, Lieutenant. You should know that. There is a reason we have the caste system in the military. Don’t blur that line with the sergeant.

Garrett wondered if the major was already aware of the close friendship he and his second lieutenant had forged with their NCOs. Yes sir, I understand, sir. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have to dress Henry down. Henry knew his place in the order.

Well, Sergeant Blevins is bringing them over now. You are dismissed to help them settle in. With that, Major Preston simply walked out without another word, effectively ending the interview.

That was kind of odd, Garrett thought. Both men basically gave him the same message. It was a little more adamant from the major. Garrett wondered if they disagreed on the arrangement. If so, of course the colonel would have come out on top. Was the warning from the major, or from the major on behalf of the colonel? Either way, it didn’t matter. Henry respected rank.

Garrett took a last look up at the major’s room before leaving the courtyard. He walked back through the house and out to the front stoop where he waited.

A few minutes later the jeep sputtered to a stop, and his friends jumped out. He met Stewart behind it, and they gave each other a one-arm embrace. Harkins, Stewart boomed, "how do you do it?" Silent, but eager to fit into the camaraderie, Henry followed with his duffle slung over his shoulder.

Need to know… and you don’t. Although they laughed, Garrett thought the true nature of the humor might have been a little lost on them. Come on, let’s get you situated.

Chapter 3

Garrett thought whoever developed the V-mail system was a genius. Today was looking good: two letters. Both Kate and Pete had written. The V-mail system required the writer to compose a letter on a form that would be transferred to a reel of microfilm. The microfilm was then sent overseas by air to the postal service. When the reel arrived, it was converted back to letter form before being delivered to the addressee. By fitting more than 15,000 letters on one reel, it was possible to reduce both bulk and weight. Instead of waiting weeks for mail to be delivered by ship, it took only one week for air delivery. Garrett was generally rewarded with mail each week.

He opened Kate’s letter. He had been dating her since their junior year in high school. After his graduation from West Point, Kate planned an intimate weekend for them at the Biltmore Hotel in Providence with the intention of returning as the bride of Lieutenant Garrett Harkins. Garrett convinced her it would be better for them to wait until the war was over. What if something happened to him and she was widowed at twenty-four? Although disappointed that her scheme was unsuccessful, she accepted his proposal and wore the diamond ring that had once belonged to his mother.

October 11, 1943

Dear Garrett,

Autumn is setting in and it’s becoming chillier. I miss not having you here. How long has it been since you left Newport, 16 months? It seems like the only fun I have is when I can get to Providence. Did you know that Sam reported to the draft board but was rejected for flat feet? He started at Columbia Law School in New York in September. My brother wasn’t so lucky. He has been drafted into the navy. He’s at boot camp now. They’re rushing them through in four weeks. We’re not sure yet if he’ll be going to Europe or Asia.

I hope all is well with you.

Love,

Kate

That’s it? Garrett wondered. Grinning he thought, So, Sam got a 4-F physical release from the draft. Sam, his best friend in high school, seemed to always find a way around the system. Garrett disregarded the self-indulgent tone of Kate’s letter. He had so much more to tell her. He’d write tonight. Putting Kate’s letter in his pocket, he opened the one from Pete.

October 6, 1943

Garrett,

Our football team is undefeated this year, just like when you were a senior at PEA! Coach told me I’m the best wide receiver they’ve had since you were here. Mom and Dad said I could apply to West Point. That’s the only college I’m interested in. I’ll be sending my application this month.

I have something else to tell you that’s not good news, but I know you would want to know. Our cousin Charles got married, and we went to his wedding. The reception was at the Biltmore in Providence. We stayed there for the night. I don’t know how to say this without being blunt, but like I said, I know you’d want to know. It seemed like an improbable coincidence, so I made certain there was no mistake. Kate and Sam were guests in the hotel. Garrett, they shared a room. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. Kate knows we saw her, but she ignored us. This probably doesn’t help, but Mom said Kate never appreciated you like she should have anyway.

Mom just shipped another package. She wanted me to tell you that you should let her know if there is anything special that you can’t get at the PX that you would like her to send next time.

We hope you’re keeping safe as you can in England. We hear about the bombing raids in London and are glad that you’re stationed in Wiltshire.

Keep