France
Dearest Marjorie,
Today we have the same pleasant routine. Sleep, smokes, conversation, radio. It’s taking me longer than usual to get saturated with idleness. But as long as I enjoy lying between two sheets more than anything else, I won’t venture out. Don’t think I just lay here because of sickness or anything, because I feel fine and rested and cheerful. Walking with the crutches is a chore, tho – even so, I’m secretly glad for the good excuse to stay supine. (I knew I’d be able to work that word in!)
It seems that the European radio stations carry more classical music than our own. I like that. There have been two choral Easter works today, in addition to the usual orchestral programs. Heard a string orchestra play Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana the best I have ever heard it today. That’s a wonderful peaceful thing.
The Red Cross does a good job keeping patients occupied here. In addition to books, they provide materials for making little things. They have some red cloth that can be made into handkerchiefs with geometric designs. All you have to do is pull out certain threads to make the design you want. It is a sight to see us tough combat officers busily pulling out strings to make dress hankies and scarves! More in character are the holsters made from captured leather, or the pistol grips from plasti-glass. The Red Cross lady comes around every other day with chocolate bars, comics, tooth-brushes, and most everything else. Chaplains of various faiths call regularly, too. So you seem the occupational therapists are doing a valuable job here. Morale is very high in this part of the hospital. I have seen no other parts, you see.
I haven’t seen the info. & education dept. at work here yet but I will check up on it when I can. I still have a yen to get into that.
American soldiers are having an unlimited opportunity to engage in their favorite activity of souvenir hunting, or as it is frankly called, looting. Often it actually amounts to that. Since just about everything in Germany is at their disposal, their natural reaction is to want to take it all home. All front line troops have a maniacal desire for a luger, and most of them have them by now. I know I have sent you a few little things, but it is nothing compared to the things I could have. But as I see it, the only legitimate reason for looting is to get a souvenir, and I don’t care much if I don’t have souvenirs of this war. Sometimes I find it repulsive the way they greedily grasp at prisoners’ watches, medals, anything. As a result maybe I lean the other way when it comes to taking personal property. Most of it gets lost before anything is done with it, anyway.
Tomorrow they are going to sew up my leg, and so a new phase of my stay will start. It won’t be quite such an extensive job as they had to do on my arm. The two openings are really very small. They are going to use a local anesthetic for the work. That makes me a little sad, because I really enjoy pentothol, the dreamy stuff I have had so often before. It must be habit-forming, because I’m getting so I just look forward to the shots.
Well, if they won’t let me have pentothol, I can get along – I do some pretty good dreaming all by myself. About you, hon. I like to imagine what you are doing at any particular time. And knowing your environment as I do, I bet I do a pretty good job at it. I think of you playing the piano, writing a letter to me, visiting my folks and laughing at some of Bob’s remarks, or studying either as a student or a teacher. Which do you feel like most, a scholar or a teacher? The very best state is to be a little of both, don’t you think? We’ll always be learning something, won’t we? That will be the yeast that will make life interesting. (Tho it may not make our dough rise – heh, heh, heh). At any rate, we’ll never be bored, and what more could we ask? What with our music, our home, our travels, our reading, our work, and our hours together, we’ll fill every minute with life. Let’s prepare to be very exceptional people, my dearest! Gee, I love you, Hon, for making the realization of these dreams possible.
You’re my wonderful wife and
I love you all to pieces,
Wallace
No comments:
Post a Comment