← Part of Letters from Vietnam
letter
Letter to Terrie, undated — 'a lot depends on my orders now,' finish school, and not forcing a marriage
Charlie's letter to Terrie from Army advanced training (undated on the page; headed 'Monday'), reassembled from its scans (dad237 page 1, dad238 page 2; the closing page is not located). They trained in the rain and everyone was miserable. He warns her he's going to be blunt and won't edit it, so she shouldn't lose sleep over it. His advice: finish school with no expense hassle — don't go part-time or establish residence; if she can get her loan, get it (3–4% is cheap anytime); watch where she lives and what contract she signs; be sure of her roommate; and above all, do everything she can about the part-time job — don't quit it just to quit, but if it interferes with school, by all means quit. The reason follows: a lot depends on his orders now, which will decide their immediate future and maybe everything. He's fairly certain he loves her, but absence does strange things; he'd probably force her to marry him the moment he saw her, and he doesn't want that deep down — it would be a spur-of-the-moment cure-all. He wants things peaceful with her parents and school, and figures a lot will be solved on 17 April. (A short family-health passage is held private at the family's discretion.) He has to get up at 4, and notes her 'brainwashing article' was a big hit — what the writer said was true but a little strong.
What the letter is
The most emotionally exposed of the training letters, and one of the most self-aware pages in the whole corpus. Charlie warns Terrie up front that he is going to be blunt and won’t edit himself — and then does two things at once: he tells her, in practical detail, to secure her own education without a financial trap; and he tells her why, which is that his orders are about to decide everything, and that he will not let the emotion of reunion push them into a “spur-of-the-moment” marriage. It is a young man trying to be fair to someone he loves from inside a future he can’t yet see. “A lot will be solved,” he writes, on 17 April. What his orders solved was Vietnam.
Transcription
Monday
Dear Terrie,
We trained today in the rain. Everyone was miserable. It was so simple, but the rain, cold, and misery made it a bad day. You will probably get another letter with this one, as I forgot to mail it today.
We have to have a little talk about a few things, and I’m going to present some of them rather bluntly, so don’t lose any sleep over what I’m writing. I’m not going to edit these and can’t. It may not mean as strongly as it sounds. But here it is anyway.
Right now I feel that you should finish school with no expense hassle. Do not go part-time or establish residence. If you can get your loan, get it — 3% or 4% is cheap anytime. Watch where you live and what kind of contract you sign. Also be sure of your roommate. The thing that really concerns me is your part-time [job]. Please do everything you can to reach an easy break. Don’t quit your job just for it, but if it is interfering with school, by all means quit.
[page 2:] I guess what I’m trying to say is that a lot depends on my orders now. It will definitely decide our immediate future and maybe everything. I’m fairly certain I love you, but as I remember saying once before, absence really does [strange] things for our relationship. I mean, I probably would force you to marry me when I just see you, and I don’t want that deep down — primarily because it would be a spur-of-the-moment cure-all. I guess I would owe [us] a lot of problems. I want things peaceful with your parents, school, and all. […] I guess a lot will be solved 17 April.
[A short family-health passage is held private at the family’s discretion.]
I must get up at 4 tomorrow, so I must go to bed now. Your brainwashing article was a big hit. What he said was true but a little strong. Oh well. At least this letter is different. I got a letter from —
[The closing page is not located among the surviving scans.]
What the letter records
“A spur-of-the-moment cure-all.” “I probably would force you to marry me when I just see you, and I don’t want that deep down.” The rare, unguarded honesty of the corpus: Charlie naming his own likely impulse and refusing it, out of care rather than doubt. He wants the marriage to be a decision, not a reaction to reunion — and he wants it not to cost her “peaceful” relations with her parents and her degree. It is the same fairness the M-72/ring letter’s “I’m still willing to marry you, it is just that things such as discharges will have to work out” was reaching for.
“Finish school with no expense hassle.” The practical half of the same care: loans over part-time status, watch the contract and the roommate, don’t let the job crowd out the degree. The education-as-inheritance thread in real time — Charlie pushing Terrie to protect her schooling exactly as she would later push Chuck’s. It’s the same “keep studying” that runs from the clerk-training letter to the field letters.
The unedited letter. “I’m not going to edit these and can’t. It may not mean as strongly as it sounds.” Charlie flagging his own bluntness — a soldier writing past midnight before a 4 a.m. wake-up, choosing not to soften what he means. It’s why the page reads more raw than most.
The brainwashing article. “Your brainwashing article was a big hit. What he said was true but a little strong.” Terrie mailing him anti-war / anti-Army reading — the same current that runs through the Mothers-for-Peace correspondence with Dorothy Hauser and Charlie’s own “beginning to hate the army” refrain.
Scans
