June 3, 1942
Dear Molly,
Gee! I really agree with you. “You’re so mean and evil.[“] I thought that maybe you didn’t get my letter because it was so small. I was listening to the radio one day and I heard that song “You’re so mean and evil” also “He—l-lo baby” You know the rest!
A school opened and this my program.
9-10 a.m. Geometry M. Ito
10-11 a.m. Amer. History Fukuyama
1-2 p.m. Fine Art Tom Okamoto – worked at Walt Disneys
2-3 p.m. Health Education
3-4 p.m. Chemistry Dr. Mozaki – professor from Stanford arrived. A Ph.D.
Now, I’ll tell you what happened today. The school closed because the teachers were drafted into working as camouflage workers. The[y] have a big project here in camp making camouflage nets for the army. Kids that are sixteen and over (including me) are being drafted to work in the kitchen or as a camouflage worker. Man! They could go somewhere if they think I’m going to work in that hot sun and break my back. What do they think we are anyway? Oh well, I’m not going to school now. They’re sure anxious to keep us dumb just like morons. Golly! All my plans of going to college and all that are all gone. All I could think of now is be a dumb ox and not ever graduate high school.
The food is getting better now (t’s about time!) You know what happened? The other day district VI and VII all got diarrhea. 4:00 a.m. They were all racing to the [Japanese]. Man, it looked as if the whole camp got sick with the food. They ran out of toilet paper too, right in the middle of the night, Boy! Were the [____japanese] ‘s crowded and did it smell! Woo P.U.! Those guards thought there was going to be a revolution and the fence was all lined up with machine guns.
I always get diarrhea with the food they serve here too.
I guess you’re in the sugar rationing problem now. Hell! [Well?] We are too. We don’t get sugar on the table sometimes.
By the way, if you get Sadae’s letter, please tell her to write to me.
They’re getting strict here too! They don’t ever let you bring a bar of candy in the camp. The soldiers take it away. When someone comes to visit you at the gate you have to talk real loud because they don’t let you get close to them. The soldiers walk right in between you too. You say a couple words and then a soldier walks by. Your friend says a few words and a soldier passes by again. Golly! They sure think we’re prisoners of war.
Oh well, let’s forget it all. I’ll be closing ’cause my hands getting too tired to write.
Love, Sandie
P.S. Enclosing our camp paper. No, I don’t think I better because I sent you one already and anyway it makes my envelope look too fat.
[Diagram of what it would be like to receive a visitor at the main gate with soldiers walking between the inmate and their guest.]