When Walt Rafert attempted to join the Marine Corps in the summer of 1918 he was at first held back due to a heart arrhythmia. He wrote the following letter to his younger sister Alma.

Aug 18, 1918

Dear Sister;
        This is the luckiest day of my life I believe.  The doctor gave me another examination this morning and said "accept this man, no notes", when he said these words I almost jumped out of the room.  I came out with a grin as big as a shed-door, so that Maury, another Indpls' fellow also a holdover on account of his heart said "I knew you passed" he went inside and came out with a duplicate smile on his face.  So we "go over the line" tomorrow unless something else turns up.  I guess you had better quit writing also until I send you my new address.  I wish you would call up Helen Stephenson at Belmont 3279 and tell her, also not to write till I send my next address and see that everybody stops until I send the word, and then they can't come too fast, for there are lots of things I want to know about "back home".  Tell Val to send clippings of the "Printers team" as I am anxious to hear how they are coming up.  We have about 10 or 12 boxing matches every night and also moving pictures 5 or 6 reels a day.  I expect to send my quip home before long and will send the key in a letter about the same time.  Tell everybody I said hello and that I will write as soon as I get over the line, have no spare time at all now.  You should see me with my hair cut Marine fashion.  If Herb is still home tell him I found out what a Gob is.  The sailors have a new name for us now, they call us Fido (taken from the word "Devil Dog").  Well I hear the bugle calling chow, chow, chow, and always have an unfilled spot somewhere about me so I must hustle.  Tell Al I said to do nothing I would not do and love to everybody.

Walt