June 5

Yes, here I continue. Another time in another place. A quick trip across the Mediterranean via a hospital ship, and land in Italy. And a sad lot we are. Only one day-the last-that I wasn't seasick, and most of the others too. As Grandma would have said, 'I'd liked to die.' What a sickness. However we weathered the gale, and here we are. Such blue as the sea was, I shall never forget. Inky blue. The food was good, I guess, on the boat, and we were very comfortably laid out.

The sad blow came as we entered the harbor. A messenger came aboard with assignments for us to do detached service for a while. Which means we were to be split up among the many hospitals here. Ten of us came out to this hospital where we are mooning tonight. They have only been set up here for a few weeks and are very busy. I am the chief of our gang of ten-something for me, and something I don't like. A few of our officers are here too. We are living at the hospital where we work. Ten cots in this, which was at one time some kind of an office. We are trying to make it a bit homey with what we have. Haven't had a chance yet to find an orange crate. We go on duty in the morning, without any time to rest from our sea voyage. I don't know where our other nurses went yet. They say it is only for a week, and we move on to bigger things ourselves. Let's hope so. It's much harder to take these blows now after having been together and in comparative luxury for so long. I suppose I won't sleep a wink tonight.

Gladys is no doubt there with you, so this will suffice for both-and pass it on to Aunt Clara, also. I just can't write all this again. It's now time to turn in so will say adieu for this time. Sure wish I were there with you all tonight. I received your letter just before I left the last place. The APO is the same.

Love, Frank