December 1943, my folks were living in one room in the First Christian Church in Marfa, Texas, where he was an Army Air Force instructor.
Cessna AT-17, fondly called Bobcat Bombers, along the runway at Marfa.
They couldn’t cook at the church and didn’t have a car. They didn’t even have a table to write letters on–and they wrote plenty of them. (Doris had written to all five brothers on the 22nd and also her folks.)
So Christmas Eve Day Dad built a table, using an empty Drew’s Chocolate box (sent to them for Christmas from his Uncle M.M. Neal of Dexter) for a carpenter’s square.
The next day they walked to the Crews Hotel (not military, owned by a Mr. Crews) where they had Christmas dinner.
