← Part of Letters from Vietnam
letter
Letter to Terrie, c. early 1970 — Fort Bragg, the .45 and the hand grenades
Charlie's letter to Terrie from Fort Bragg during Army training in early 1970 (undated; placed before the 12 April 1970 orders letter on internal evidence). He thanks her for shirts she sent, says he prefers the dark one, and that he bought another in her colors at Fort Bragg — then asks her, seriously, to stop sending or buying things for him, since she'll need all her money for the next year and a half; he has no needs 'except a warm body.' The day's training: he fired the .45 pistol, throws hand grenades tomorrow, and finds the training slow and boring. He hopes to get away for the weekend, notes he's written friends (Wilkerson and Jay) without reply, and promises a fuller letter on the weekend.
What the letter is
Early 1970, Fort Bragg, somewhere in the months of training before the orders. A small, domestic, slightly bored letter — the kind written between a morning on the pistol range and a planned weekend pass. Charlie thanks Terrie for the shirts, gently tells her to stop spending money on him (“you will need all you have & more for the next year and a half”), and reports the day’s work with a shrug: the .45 today, grenades tomorrow, the whole thing “slow and boring.” It’s the ordinary texture of becoming a soldier, before any of it turned real.
Transcription
Dear Terrie,
I got your shirts today. Thanks. I like the dark one, the light one not as much. I bought another blue one in between (your colors) at Ft. Bragg.
Seriously, please don’t send or buy anything else for me. You will need all you have & more for the next year and a half. I have no needs for the immediate future, except a warm body.
Today was rather cold but it warmed up by this afternoon. I fired the .45 pistol today and tomorrow I throw some hand grenades. The training is rather slow and boring.
I hope I can get away this weekend. It would be good to get out of here for once.
I’ve written to Wilkerson & Jay but so far no reply. I’ll write this weekend more in depth.
Love Charles
What the letter records
Soldiering as routine. “Fired the .45 pistol today and tomorrow I throw some hand grenades… slow and boring.” The weapons of the trade are recorded with the flatness of any other workday’s tasks — a reminder that the war, for the men sent to it, began as tedium and paperwork and ranges.
“You will need all you have & more for the next year and a half.” Even in training, Charlie is doing the couple’s arithmetic, waving off Terrie’s gifts and pointing at the long stretch of service still ahead. The frugality that runs through the Vietnam letters — the stereo math, the PACEX list, the R&R budgeting — starts here.
The friends. Wilkerson, Jay, and (elsewhere) Fisher, Ferguson, Abbott — the network of young men Charlie wrote to and about, scattering toward the same war. The training letters are where that cast first appears.
Scans
