Fairmont Hotel, San Francisco, Calif. December 3, 1939
Dear Bess:
Well I guess I'm spoiled. I thought maybe I'd get a letter when I got back to the hotel from Monterey, but of course there was no delivery so I'll probably get it at Ft. Hamilton at noon tomorrow. We had a very strenuous day-drove to Monterey, 120 miles by way of the redwoods, and inspected some forts and drill fields, stopped in Salinas for cocktails and then drove back here arriving at 8:00 P.M. Wish I'd kept a diary on the auto rides. It took longer to drive that 120 miles than it did to go from Veracruz to San Salvador. We had a highway patrolman for an escort too and made good time.
In Los Angeles they loaded us into a bus, a big one, and put a cap in front on a cycle and if you think we didn't have a ride you are mistaken. We went around street cars on the wrong side, ran red lights and I can see an old jalopy truck driver clawing for the brakes as we shot in front of him across a through street a by a red light. We had a very skillful fat bus driver who just scraped off the outside coats of paint on several cars at intersections (or so it seems anyway).
In Mexico City they had four cops meet us at the port and take us to that robber hotel at a rate that made my hair curl. The Mexican driver didn't seem to hear or care a damn for four sirens going wide open and a procession of dignitaries moving through traffic at fifty miles per hour.
In Nicaragua we rode in the Presidente's car with a couple of outriders and a bird on the front seat beside the driver with a tommy gun all cocked and ready to go. The car had bulletproof windows, so that was some comfort. The President of El Salvador had two machine guns on the front porch and two on each side of the entrance to the grand hallway.
I go to Washington State tomorrow and I hope start for Washington City on Thursday.
Kiss Margie, love to you, Harry