It is the day before Memorial Day and as occurs many times during my days, thoughts of WWII still surface. After so many years I often wonder just how much of my memories are real and how much unreal; I have decided there is some of both in most thoughts.

Memories that once made me waken at night, scared and shaking, have passed; letting more pleasant memories prevail. I realize now that there were times in the Marine Corp, and after, when I was a little nutty. The attitude of "don't give a damn" and "I can't die until I am at least 40" has pretty much gone by the wayside.

The 'until 40' thought helped me immensely back then; however, the year I turned 40 was a bit uncomfortable, especially when my new company car that year was a coffin colored bronze. Is there a bit of superstition in each of us?

Memories of state side duty during the latter days of war were good! Upon returning from the Pacific, I had a 30 day furlough enroute to Camp LeJuene, N.C. I fell 'in love' four times beginning at Mare Island in San Francisco, then Los Angeles, Mineral Wells, TX and Kinston, N.C. (Well, I have already admitted to be nutty!)

A few weeks later, I wrote the same letter to each of the young ladies, asking for them to forgive me for falling so quickly and only then coming to my senses. My thinking at the time was as I recall that falling in love, getting married and having children would somehow keep me alive. Reading these now shows me how very dumb this thinking was.

Money wasn't a problem during my time at Camp LeJuene. One all-nighter with dice is a case in point where I ended up breaking my barrack and one next door among which were 2 guys from Chicago who ran a gambling combine. It seemed I made just about every point I tried.

How much money? I haven't the slightest idea, but it was enough to pay for a night in Kinston for any of the losers who could cram themselves into one of the five taxi cabs I ordered. Steaks and booze, and what ever else anyone wanted. What a night!