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Friday 
Fall 1942

Dear Elizabeth

I write you now from Springfield, Missouri. For the past few weeks I lived with my friend Jean in McArthur, Ohio while Alter went ahead to report for duty at his post in Springfield. 

McArthur is a tiny place in the southern part of Ohio. There are practically no young people there. They all leave for places where there are defense jobs. It's a very poor place and the people believe Washington is run by "niggers" and Jews. They feel only pity for those who go into the armed forces. An incident like the following was, therefore, heartening to Jean and me. 

One day we were shopping in the grocery store. The woman