In the letter, he describes "rooms 112 and 113" of the Hotel Florida ("where we lived") as being in a "dead angle," safe from the artillery fire then falling on the hotel.
But one phrase in the letter, "dead angle" might be of interest to scholars writing about a common feature of the author's work; namely, Hemingway's interest in what can generically be called the "good place"; a place that also goes under names like "locus amoenus" or "querencia" (Alinei, Monk).
But the two rooms where we lived were in what is called by artillerymen a dead angle [emphasis mine].
In the technical language of fortifications, a dead angle ("dead ground," "blind spot" or "sector without fire") has one meaning for defenders and another for an attacking force.
In his letter, when Hemingway represents Rooms 112 and 113 of the Hotel Florida as a dead angle, he writes from the perspective of a defender; or, more precisely, of an occupant within a fortified position.
So how do Rooms 109 (Dorothy's) and no (Philip's), as depicted in The Fifth Column, act as a dead angle? On what literary grounds can we call the dead angle a good place?
"Sometimes on television," Henry said, "I see a guy in a
dead angle having a shot and the commentator says: 'Oh, if you are a striker you have the right to have a go'.
"There is a fine line and sometimes we could pass the ball to each other a bit better and, when you are in a
dead angle, sometimes just try to pass the ball to the guy in the centre.