Dear Mom and Dad,
I hope you’re doing well. I’m doing fine over here. I wanted to let you know that the Army is way better than working on the farm. You should tell my big brothers, Doug and Phil, to join up before all the good opportunities are gone! It took me a while to adjust at first because I don’t have to wake up until 6 a.m. now. I actually enjoy sleeping in because all I have to do before breakfast is make my bed, shine my boots, and clean my uniform. No more milking cows, feeding calves, or stacking feed – it’s a breeze!
I do have to take showers, but it’s not so bad. We have plenty of hot water and even a light so you can see what you’re doing. At breakfast, they serve cereal, fruit, and eggs. However, it’s not like Mom’s cooking with kangaroo steaks or possum stew. We don’t get fed again until noon, but by that time, all the city boys are exhausted because we’ve been on a “route march.” It’s basically just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!
Now, here’s something that will crack up Doug and Phil. I keep getting medals for shooting, even though I’m not sure why. The target is as big as a possum’s behind, it doesn’t move, and it’s not shooting back at you like when our big scrubber bull got into the Johnsons’ prize cows before the fair last year! All you have to do is get comfortable and hit the target. Plus, they give us pre-loaded cartridges, so you don’t have to worry about loading your own. It’s a piece of cake!
Sometimes we have to wrestle with the city boys, but I have to be careful because they’re fragile. It’s a completely different experience compared to the brawls we have back home after rounding up the livestock, where I have to contend with the likes of Doug, Phil, Jack, Boori, Steve, and Muzza all at the same time
Turns out, I’m not too bad at boxing either.
It seems like I’m the top performer in the platoon, except for this one individual from the Engineers who managed to best me. He’s 6 foot 5, weighs a ton, and has shoulders as wide as three pick handles. You know I’m only 5 foot 7 and as skinny as a rail, but I gave him a run for his money until the other guys had to carry me off to the bar.
I can’t complain about the Army at all. Tell the boys to hurry up and join before everyone finds out how great it is.
Love,
Sheila
