Kid Sends Letter Home To Parents After Joining The Marines, This Is Priceless!

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A Farm Kid Joins the Marines
Dear Ma and Pa:
I am well. I hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer that working for the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to sign up quickly before all of the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 5 a.m. But I am getting so tired that I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer that all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, or fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men get to shave, but it’s not so bad; there’s warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon, when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much.

We go on “route marches,” which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him differently. A “route march” is about as far as our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet, and we all ride back in trucks.
The sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you at all.

This will kill Walt and Elmer with laughter. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk’s head and doesn’t move, and it ain’t shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you have to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with the city boys. I have to be really careful though; they break really easily. It ain’t like fighting with that old bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up at the same time as me, but I’m only 5’6′′ and 130 pounds, and he’s 6’8′′ and near 300 pounds dry.

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,

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