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Monday, September 20, 1943

Two years ago, just about now I was pleased to note that you didn’t have a ring on your left third finger. You may doubt that but it’s a fact. What years they have been and I hope we never experience anything like them again. I realized for a moment how insensible this interment has made me. The bus with the fortunate repatriates was leaving, there was much cheering and the victrola was playing God Bless America (I think it’s far and away the least desirable of our songs) and yet I felt the tears ready to well up and I could have thrown myself on the grass and bawled like a baby. This is really a terrible strain and I can’t imagine what the reaction will be when we see American forces and hear the Star Spangled Banner again (I’m practically weeping now).