ction to use a laboratory in Topeka…assuming that there is one ent I need； a doubtful point。 I would let letters pile up in a lockbox （since it does not matter when I Delay Mail them）…but banks are never open on Sundays。 So a handwritten letter； not too long and bulky； is the most I can manage…whenever I can lay hands on nesting envelopes （also difficult now）…and hope that paper and ink won't oxidize too much over the centuries。
I've started a diary； one which makes no mention of Tertius and such （this letter would get me locked up as crazy！） but is simply a daily recital of events。 I can mail it； when it is full； to Gramp Ira Johnson to hold for me； then after the war is over and I have time and privacy； I can use it to write the sort of mentary you want； and take time to miniaturize and stabilize a long message。 The problems of a time…tripping historiographer are odd and awkward。 One Welton fine…grain memory cube would record' all 1 could say over the next ten years…except
521that I would have no use for one even if I had it； the technology to use it is lacking。
By the way… Ishtar； did you plant a recorder in my belly？ You are a darling； dear； but sometimes a devious
？darling…and there is something there。 It doesn't bother me； and I might never have noticed it had not a physician noticed it the day I joined this Army。 He brushed the matter off…but later I conducted my own examination by touch。 There is an implant there…and not what Ira says I'm full of。 It might be one of those artificial organs you rejuvenators are reluctant to discuss with your 〃children。〃 But I suspect that it is a Welton cube with an ear hooked to it and a ten…year power supply； it's about the right size。
But why didn't you ask me； dear； ipstead of sneaking up on me with a Mickey？ It is not true that I always say No to a civil request； that is a canard started by Lax and Lor。 Justin could have gotten Tamara to ask me； and
no one has ever learned how to say No to Tarnara。 But Justin will pay for this： To hear what I say and what is said in my presence； he is going to have to listen to ten years of belly rumblings。
No； durn it； Athene will filter out incidental noise and supply him with a dated and mean？ngful printout。 There is no justice。 And no privacy； either。 Athene； haven't I always been good to you； dear？ Make Justin pay for his prank。
I haven't seen my first family since I enlisted。 But when I get a long…enough pass I am going to Kansas City and visit them。 My status as a 〃hero〃 carries privileges a 〃civilian young bachelor〃 cannot enjoy； the mores relax a bit in wartime； and I'll be able to spend time with them。 They have been very good to me： a letter almost every day； cookies or a cake weekly。 The latter I share； reluctantly； the former I treasure。
I wish it were as easy to get letters from my Tertius family。
Basic Message； Repeated： Rendezvous is 2 August 1926； ten T…years after drop。 Last figure is 〃siX〃…flOt 〃nine。〃
All my love；
Corporal Ted （〃01' Buddy Boy〃） Bronson
？** *
Dear Mr。 Johnson；
And all your family…Nancy； Carol； Brian； George； Marie； Woodie； Dickie Boy； Baby Ethel； and Mrs。 Smith。 I cannot say how touched I am that this orphan has been 〃adopted for the duration〃 by the Smith family； and to hear that it is confirmed by Captain Smith。 In my heart you all have been 〃my family〃 since that sad & happy night you sent me off to war loaded with presents and good wishes and my head ifiled with your practical advice
…and my heart closer to tears than I dared let anyone see。 To be sold by Mrs。 Smith… a letter from her husband； the Captain…that I truly am 〃adopted〃…well； I'm close to tears again； and noncorns are not supposed to show such weakness。
I have not looked up Captain Smith。 I caught the hint in your letter…but； truly； I did not need it； I have been soldiering long enough to realize that an enlisted man does not presume in such fashion。 I am almost as certain that the Captain will not look me up…for reasons I don't need to explain as you have soldiered far more than the Captain and I bined。 It was most sweetly thoughtful of Mrs。 Smith to suggest it…but can you make her understand I can't look up a captain socially？ And why she should not urge her husband to look up a non？
If you can't make her understand this （possiblc； since the Army is a different world）； perhaps this will suffice：
Camp Funston is big…and no transportation for me other than shanks' mare。 Call it an hour for the round trip if I swing out my heels。 Add five minutes with the Captain when I find him…if I find him。 You know our stepped…up routine； I sent you a copy。 Show here that there just isn't time； all day long； for me to do this。
But I do appreciate her kind thoughts。
Please give Carol my heartiest thanks for the brownies。 They are as good as her mother makes； higher praise I cannot give。 〃Were；〃 I should say； as they disappeared into hollow legs； mine and others （my buddies are a greedy lot）。 If she wants to marry a long； lanky Kansas farm boy with a big appetite； I have one at hand who will marry her sight unseen On the basis of those brownies。
This place is no longer the Mexican fire drill I described in my earliest letters。 In place of stovepipes we now have real trench mortars； the wooden guns have disappeared； and even the greenest conscripts are issued
522
523Springfields as soon as they've mastered squads east and west and have learned to halt more or less together。
But it remains hard as the mischief to teach them to use those rifles 〃by the Book。〃 We have two types of recruit： boys who have never fired 昦 rifle； and others who boast that their pappies used to send them out to shoot breakfast and never allowed them but one shot。 I prefer the first sort； even if a lad is unconsciously afraid and has to be taught not to flinch。 At least he hasn't practiced his mistakes； and I can teach him what the regular Army instructors taught me； and those three chevrons on my sleeve now insure that he listens。
But the country boy who is sure he knows it all （and sometimes is indeed a good shot） won't listen。
It's a chore to convince him that he is not going to do it his way； he is going to do it the Army way； and he had better learn to like it。
Sometimes these know…it…alreadys get so angry that
？…they want to fight…me； not Huns。 These are usually boys who haven't found out that I also teach unarmed bat。 I've had to acmodate a couple of them； out behind the latrine after retreat。 I won't box them； I have no wish to flatten my big nose against some cow…milking fist。 But the idea of fighting rough…and…tumble； no rules； either makes their eyes glitter…or they decide to shake hands and forget it。 If they go ahead with it； it doesn't last over two seconds as I don't want to get hurt。
？I promised to tell you where and how I learned Ia savate and… jujitsu。 But it's a long story； not too nice in spots； one I should not put into a letter but wait until I have a pass that gives me time enough to visit Kansas City。
But I haven't had anyone offer to fight me for at least three months。 One of the sergeant…instructors told me that he had heard that the recruits call me 〃Death〃 Bronson。 I don't mind as long as it means peace and quiet when
？I'moffduty。 ？？
Camp 1~un's…Town continues to have just two sorts of weather； too hot and dusty； too cold and mud4y。 I hear that the latter is good practice fOr France； the Tommies
？here claim that the worst hazard of this war is the danger of drowning in French mud。 The poilus among us don't really argue it but blame the rain on artillery fire。
Bad as the weather may be in France； everyone wants
524to go there； and the second favorite topic of conversation is 〃When？〃 （No need to tell an old soldier the first。） Rumors of s'hipping out are endless and always wrong。
But I'm beginning to wonder。 Am I going to be stuck here； doing the same things month after month while the war goes on elsewhere？ What will I tell my children someday？ Where did you fight the Big War； Daddy？ Funston； Billy。 What part of France is that； Daddy？ Near Topeka；
？Billy…shut up and eat your oatmeal！
？I would have to change my name。
It gets tiresome telling one bunch after another to stack arms and grab shovels。 We've dug enough trenches in this prairie to reach from here to the moon； and I now know four ways to do it： the French way； the British way； the American way…and the way each new bunch of recruits does it； in which the revetments collapse…and then they want to know what difference it
？makes because General Pershing； once we get there； is going to break this trench…warfare stalemate and get those Huns on the run。
They may be right。 But I have to teach what I'm told to teach。 Till I'm white…haired； maybe。
I am pleased indeed to hear that you are in the Seventh Regiment； I know how much it means to you。 But please don't dis