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Letter to Terrie, 15 February 1971 — point by point: Laos, the one room, and a wedding in August
Charlie's letter to Terrie headed 'Feb 15' (1971), a point-by-point reply to her letter dated 8 February. He'll keep the April 9-19 window in mind for R&R but asks her not to count on getting married in Hawaii — 'it just isn't what I want.' He reassures her about the Laos news: there are no U.S. ground troops in Laos except support, the news is telling the truth. On the delicate question of the Hawaii room, his parents want it put about that they'll have separate rooms and want the parents told arrangements are being made along that line — but the plain truth is one room and one bed, 'it is simpler that way.' He's sorry about her F in English Lit and hopes it won't affect graduation. Assuming all goes well they'll marry in August (he asks what date she wants); money is no problem — he'll come home with $2,500-3,500 cash plus stocks, enough to afford $350 toward her tuition. He signs off working on a tan, 'red as hell right now,' hoping to 'look human by Hawaii.' One of two letters in the archive headed 'Feb 15.'
What the letter is
15 February 1971. A letter built as a numbered list — Charlie answering Terrie’s letter of the 8th point by point, the way he does when several threads have piled up. In four items he covers the war, the wedding, the Hawaii room, and her grades, and the whole thing is characteristically flat and practical about matters that were, underneath, enormous: whether he was safe, whether they would sleep in one bed or two, and when exactly they would marry.
Transcription
Feb 15
Dear Terrie,
I got your letter dated Feb 8 and it seems I have a little mail still coming. [Answering your letter:]
(1) I’ll keep the April 9-19 in mind when I try to get my R&R. Please don’t count on getting married then. It just isn’t what I want.
(2) There are no U.S. troops in Laos except support. The news is telling the truth.
(3) My parents think we will have separate rooms in Hawaii and want me &/or you to tell your parents that arrangements are being made along that line. We will have just one room & one bed. It is simpler that way.
(4) Sorry to hear about your F in English Lit. I hope it doesn’t affect your graduation.
[page 2:] I hope you can get it changed too. That would be even better. I guess the rest of your grades are in the letter I haven’t received yet.
Assuming all goes well we will be married I guess in August. (What serious date do you want?) There is no foreseeable problem with money for me. I’ll probably come home with 2500-3500 cash plus what I have at home in stocks, so if you think we will be married in August or so I guess I could afford $350 for your tuition.
I’m working on getting a tan. I’m red as hell right now. Maybe I’ll look human by Hawaii.
Love Charles
What the letter records
The reassurance about Laos. Of all the war news in these months, the Laos incursion generated the most alarming coverage back home — and this is Charlie, from the rear, telling Terrie the frightening thing on her television was also, on the narrow point of American ground troops, accurate. It reads against his 4 February fore-warning that the campaign was coming, and his 1 March account of watching it go wrong.
The one room. The most quietly revealing item in the letter: two families’ expectations managed with a small fiction (“separate rooms”) while the couple quietly arranged the truth. It is the same negotiation, in miniature, that the April Hawaii letters would carry on at length.
August, and the tuition. The wedding date is still a question he is putting to her (“what serious date do you want?”), but the money is settled: the savings-plan cash and the stocks add up to enough that he can float her $350 tuition. As ever, the finance and the marriage are one subject — and the plan named here, August, is the one that came true.
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