4 December 1955

A very nice day in all, notwithstanding the fact that I have half a sore throat (right side) & an aggravating case of the “blows”—trying to blow my nose when there’s nothing there. I hate that sensation. Always had an intense dislike of being sick—fortunately, I seldom am. Usually I have but one cold a year—it generally starts in December & lasts until March. But I don’t really mind it, since it’s usually very unobtrusive & only shows itself by an occasional sniffle.

Somehow all the ships in the harbor, with the exception of the Lake Champlain & ourselves, managed to turn around during he night. The submarine sank, or did whatever submarines do, as it was missing when I looked for it this afternoon.

Took an entire roll of film of Sardinia yesterday—I only hope it turns out. The mountains are really beautiful—some rugged & brooding, others bright & almost gaudy. Some of them are as though they’ve been painted—tan & brown of bare rock, shadows, & the green of vegetation—no trees, that I noticed.

Don’t feel much like writing tonight—I’m in one of my neuter moods, when I don’t feel particularly good or bad; no sensations whatever except the annoying area around my throat. Here it is twenty-five to ten already, & I have to take a shower & stencil some of my clothes prior to sacrificing them to the laundry.

Mail is leaving the ship tonite, but we haven’t received any for several days now. I won’t mail this until later this week, when we get to Genoa. Sure would like to take that tour to Venice, but can’t afford it. They had a tour scheduled for Munich, Germany, but because of an Austrian law forbidding the wearing of uniforms, they had to cancel it.

Well, short as this is, I’ve got to take that shower….

Postcard dated 12-3-55, postmarked "U.S.S. Ticonderoga, CVA-14 Dec. 4, 1955, 9 a.m. Subject: The Rock of Gibraltar at night

Dear Stormy
I’ve had this card laying around my desk for weeks—best I mail it off tonite.

Hope you still remember me when I get home—we’ll probably both be getting old & grey by that time. Oh, well, only 253 more days. I can’t wait to get out of this man’s Navy.

See you

Roge