September 3, 1945
I scarcely know how to begin this letter, or what to say. Day before yesterday I received your letter of August 7. I'm not very good at expressing myself at times, but I'm sure you know the measure of regret I have in my heart at Herb's passing away, and I'm sure you know that you have all the sympathy of which I am capable. The news was a shock to me, too, as I had no idea that Herb was that ill. I feel, in a way, that I share your sorrow, as he was my dearest friend. If it can be said that any man loves his brother, then I loved Herb, as he was like a brother to me. I never had a brother, but I always wanted one, just like Herb. I admired his character and his personality and brilliance from the minute I knew him.
Herb and I met at Flying Control School, and immediately became the best of friends. We lived