"Dear Ruth . . ."

Private Al Schmid of the Marine Corps was facing life, and he was blind. In San Diego Naval Hospital he began his biggest readjustment.

"Dear Ruth . . ." he said. The Red Cross girl, Virginia Pfeiffer, wrote it down. She did not hesitate when he came to the part about breaking his engagement to Ruth "because I don't want to be a drag on anybody." She signed his name, "Al." The Jap bullet that blinded Al Schmid after his machine gun killed 200 Japs had struck far from Guadalcanal.

When she left the room Virginia reread the letter. Then she added a postscript asking Ruth to go on writing: "With his intelligence, personality and humor there is no reason why you can't build something pretty fine out of life."

Last week Al Schmid, Marine cap perched jauntily, stepped off a train on to the windswept Philadelphia station platform. His mother and father were there to meet him. So was Ruth Hartley. He could not see the tears in their eyes, but he heard their voices. He laughed when he felt the shape of Ruth's hat pressing against him.

Said Ruth, bursting with wedding plans: "He'll never be a drag on anyone. Not that one!" Other welcome home news for Al Schmid was the doctors' verdict: that after more months of hospital care he possibly might regain partial vision in his one remaining eye.

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