Dear Mother,

Pardon the pencil, but I'm down on the flying line tonight and failed to bring a pen with me. You guessed right - we're flying tonight. And it's Sunday night, too. I won't take off until after midnight, so I'll knock off a few necessary letters.

Things have been going along O.K. lately. I have finished up with the instrument squadron and start in with acrobatics and formation flying tomorrow. That formation work should be a lot of fun. Instrument was rather a boring week. I always had a hood over the cockpit and couldn't see anything but my dashboard. That was to teach me to be able to fly in fog and low cloud conditions. I like to see where I'm flying, so instruments didn't agree with me too well. However, I did pass my instrument check last Friday without any trouble.

We had open post yesterday evening and today. I've been having a swell time with Diana and her family. Her father is a rare character. Years ago he bought a farm and about seven years ago they hit oil on the farm. He made plenty of money out of oil and moved into Independence with the rest of those who had the same oil experience. This town was built by the Sinclair Oil Company and is made up of these "retired" farmers.

When the war came, Mr. Dunn turned "patriotic" and bought a farm outside of Independence. So yesterday evening I met Diana at the hospital and we hopped the trolley and went out to the farm. Had a good old country meal (her mother cooks almost as good as you), went for a horseback ride and sat around and talked. We came back into town at 11:00 p.m. as Diana had to be back at the hospital by 12:00 midnight. Then today we went to the Booth Theater and saw, "Stagedoor Canteen." It was really good.

I'm really glad that I met Diana - she's all good and her family is nice - more or less provides for relaxation over the weekends.

I haven't heard from Betty for weeks. I've written several letters since receiving her last one, but no answer. I guess she finally got the point. I didn't want her to get mad, though - just forget the seriousness. However, if she can't understand what I mean, why, I guess it's better just to leave her alone all together.

This last week I rode with other cadets on what we call "buddy rides." The boy in the front acts as the observer and checks the boy in the rear cockpit, who is trying to fly instruments under the hood. I went up with Gil Priestley several times and some other of my friends also. I discovered that we all fly about the same, that is, we have the same technique, characteristics, etc. Naturally, we have fun on buddy rides - each trying to prove that he's the best pilot.

All the guys that I've flown with have more or less conceded victory to me except Priestley - we came to a draw.

Well, I'm going to close this and go over in the corner and try to get some sleep. Will write again soon.

p.s. Thanks for the nuts

Love,
Jack

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