Dearest Rosa,
It’s after twelve now and in the
morning I have to get up really early in order to prepare for leaving here for
the Hague, so this letter will be of the dashed-off variety.
Yesterday was about the most thrilling
for sports that I’ve ever had. The reason, of course, was the crew race. After
the Germans had won the first five races at Grunau the British gave me a big
spine tingle by breaking the jinx. Then the next race brought on Washington
against the field. I went absolutely nuts all the time during the race. In the
first place, Washington was last till after the half-way mark, and even though
I knew that they specialized in making good finishes I didn’t want them to
gamble on their ability. Then with about 500 yards to go they were third, way
back of Hungary, Italy and Germany who were fighting it out. Suddenly they
really turned on the heat and started to move.
 |
| Murray wore a borrowed Husky sweater to the Games |
Great chucks of water flew up as
the blades smacked into it. Coming like a shot the Husky Clipper nailed Italy
about sixteen yards from the end and moved out to win by .4 of a second. My
voice is still lingering around Grunau somewhere because I haven’t been able to
find it since. Incidentally, I fear that I bewildered the poor Germans with my
shouts for “Washington.” They still don’t know who I was rooting for.
Gee but it will be swell to start
heading for home pretty quick. I’m pretty well fed up with foreign food and
foreign voices. Gee what I wouldn’t give for a good American dinner right now,
and a bed that has springs which are not instruments of torture.
And would I love to see you. Oh, gee,
darling, but I’m really lonesome over here. But it won’t be so terribly long
now.
I just can’t stay awake any longer,
hon. All my love.
Really and forever,
Murray
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