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you should see me sorting the mail at Ⅱ and 4;i stand in front of an enormous box with about twenty sub-divisions，and flip the letters in，just as if i were hitting a ping-pong backhand.the turnover of labor in the mail room is enormous;about half the ones who were working when i began have been shipped away，and i was glad tosee them go.the head of the mail room，a firstclass private，cares passionately about the mailroom and is always worrying and exhorting;he isvery stupid and rarely can understand anything thefirst time.all the replacements are dumb drivencattle，who don't talk at all compared to the oldgang，and that's a gift from god. some parts of the work are moderately pleasant;the names，a tenth of them，are queerbeyond belief.then the places they're beingshipped to work on me powerfully，like the christmas store window and the poor child.andsome are very odd：the sea searcb attack group and the prov.engr.airborne regiment，sedalia，knobnoster，mo.ask me no questions for fear ishould reply.one of the funniest forwarding addresses was corporal so-and-so，anti- submarine detachment，exeter apartments，galveston.i suppose he sits on the roof of theapartment with field glasses and a rifle. the best thing about the mail room is that it'srelatively off to itself and unmilitary.we're littlebothered by officers and non-commissioned officers，both of whom i'm growing to dislikemore and more.this is an illustrative incident：i got paid for the first time yesterday ——it wasobviously my first time.i was supposed to salutethe lieutenant sitting at the table and say，“private jarrell，randall，sir.”i didn't know thatand left off the private;the officer corrected mevery unpleasantly and acted as if i'd committed acrime. | 
