Somewhere in France
Dearest Honey,
Again I cannot tell you the thousands of details of things that I have seen and done. I have left England, and am now in France. I commanded an LST [Landing Ship, Tank] with around 130 men on the way over. I am now billeted with Lt. O’Brien in a French home, having a great time working out my French on the land lady and local cafe owner. It works surprisingly well. French cognac and cider are all they promised it to be. No wine, however! The country is interesting beyond words, with signs of the German occupation and evacuation all around. The French people are much more enthusiastic over us than the English.
And Bunny, I think of you and love you every minute. You cannot imagine how fine it makes me feel to know you are there. I promise to write all I possibly can, for I don’t want you to worry – I love you more than anything.
Always all yours,
Wallace
Wallace's Tent on Salisbury Plain
Writing a letter with candle on clipboard, see Oct. 16 letter
Monday, July 11, 2011
November 8, 1944 Wednesday
Dearest Honey,
The dope here tonight is that Frankie is still in good standing for another four years. That should give him time to patch up the world. What will the Republicans do now that their fair-haired boy has come and gone?
The situation here is normal – our first snow came today. The slushy, muddy kind that doesn’t please anybody. I had my moustache trimmed up a little yesterday – it is now just about the way I want it; not too big, not too small.
Another gap has come in your letters, so I am waiting for an armful someday to make up for it.
Actually, honey, there is so little I can talk about now that it is hard for me to write. I am pretty well “saturated” by military things that aren’t letter topics, and I don’t have the outside activities to get my mind from them to more acceptable topics.
I have tried our remedy of thinking over things we have done, and succeeded a couple of times in getting downright homesick. Most of the time it makes me feel good, tho.
Tonite Buck and I went to an American movie up at the mess hall. Lionel Barrymore in “Three Men in White” – fairly good. Coming to our tent we wished like everything we were back in the states, and discussed our chances of getting back. Even if the fighting is over soon, we dismally figured it would be some time. We would have cried in our beer, if we could get any beer. Knowing this was not possible, we just came back and are getting ready to crawl into our sleeping bags.
The tallow you will probably see on this paper – if it photographs, that is – is from the candle I am writing by. Makes me feel like Abe Lincoln, somehow.
Well, goodnite, Honey. I love you always, don’t forget. And distance or time doesn’t effect it in the slightest, except to make it seem greater and more important.
Every bit of my love,
Wallace
The dope here tonight is that Frankie is still in good standing for another four years. That should give him time to patch up the world. What will the Republicans do now that their fair-haired boy has come and gone?
The situation here is normal – our first snow came today. The slushy, muddy kind that doesn’t please anybody. I had my moustache trimmed up a little yesterday – it is now just about the way I want it; not too big, not too small.
Another gap has come in your letters, so I am waiting for an armful someday to make up for it.
Actually, honey, there is so little I can talk about now that it is hard for me to write. I am pretty well “saturated” by military things that aren’t letter topics, and I don’t have the outside activities to get my mind from them to more acceptable topics.
I have tried our remedy of thinking over things we have done, and succeeded a couple of times in getting downright homesick. Most of the time it makes me feel good, tho.
Tonite Buck and I went to an American movie up at the mess hall. Lionel Barrymore in “Three Men in White” – fairly good. Coming to our tent we wished like everything we were back in the states, and discussed our chances of getting back. Even if the fighting is over soon, we dismally figured it would be some time. We would have cried in our beer, if we could get any beer. Knowing this was not possible, we just came back and are getting ready to crawl into our sleeping bags.
The tallow you will probably see on this paper – if it photographs, that is – is from the candle I am writing by. Makes me feel like Abe Lincoln, somehow.
Well, goodnite, Honey. I love you always, don’t forget. And distance or time doesn’t effect it in the slightest, except to make it seem greater and more important.
Every bit of my love,
Wallace
November 7, 1944 Tuesday
Dearest Bunny,
Well, whom are you voting for today? I can see why a person would not vote for Roosevelt, but not why they would vote for Dewey. However, if you wish to vote for the moustache instead of the cigarette, it’s O.K. with me. I don’t care how confused you are --- ! My money is still on F.D.R. for lack of a better man.
I am being real virtuous today, and writing to Laura and the folks. Also I sent out four Xmas cards and the “Specialist” to the folks. Pretty good, huh?
It gets colder every day, but we get tougher and tougher. Also now we have a soldier come in every day and clean our tent out. Looks pretty good now.
This quick letter is mainly to tell you I am thinking of you as always. I love you very much.
All yours,
Wallace
Well, whom are you voting for today? I can see why a person would not vote for Roosevelt, but not why they would vote for Dewey. However, if you wish to vote for the moustache instead of the cigarette, it’s O.K. with me. I don’t care how confused you are --- ! My money is still on F.D.R. for lack of a better man.
I am being real virtuous today, and writing to Laura and the folks. Also I sent out four Xmas cards and the “Specialist” to the folks. Pretty good, huh?
It gets colder every day, but we get tougher and tougher. Also now we have a soldier come in every day and clean our tent out. Looks pretty good now.
This quick letter is mainly to tell you I am thinking of you as always. I love you very much.
All yours,
Wallace
November 5, 1944 Sunday
7 p.m.
Dear Bunny,
Say, wasn’t it a coincidence that you hit on the idea of a “Merry Widow” album, almost at the same time I was re-seeing it in London. It would make a wonderful start for our collection – those melodies mean so much to us. If it’s an Xmas present – thanks loads. Since Oley left I have taken over his company jobs – unit censor, voting officer, orientation officer – in addition to my other duties.
Today is Sunday and a day of duty, but not very strenuous duties. We censored mail almost all this afternoon, then at four I took off to my bunk to catch up on my resting. It was raining just enough to make things drowsy, and boy, I had fun. I suppose about now you are getting settled to listen to our Sunday programs – I’m right with you, anyway; that’s all I’m doing tonite, thinking of you and loving you the way I always do. Let’s be real close.
All my love,
Wallace
Dear Bunny,
Say, wasn’t it a coincidence that you hit on the idea of a “Merry Widow” album, almost at the same time I was re-seeing it in London. It would make a wonderful start for our collection – those melodies mean so much to us. If it’s an Xmas present – thanks loads. Since Oley left I have taken over his company jobs – unit censor, voting officer, orientation officer – in addition to my other duties.
Today is Sunday and a day of duty, but not very strenuous duties. We censored mail almost all this afternoon, then at four I took off to my bunk to catch up on my resting. It was raining just enough to make things drowsy, and boy, I had fun. I suppose about now you are getting settled to listen to our Sunday programs – I’m right with you, anyway; that’s all I’m doing tonite, thinking of you and loving you the way I always do. Let’s be real close.
All my love,
Wallace
November 4, 1944 Saturday
Dearest Honey,
This is one of those nights when I can’t seem to think of anything to write except G.I. things. And they bore both of us. I fired my carbine this morning. I am duty officer tonight (repaying Bukovinas for his goof turns to us this summer). My platoon is in fine shape. Changed two squad leaders recently, and it was for the best. I am getting so I know the platoon better all the time. I am pretty tired from being out in the cold all day.
Ah, yes, I still have my moustache – fuller and finer than ever. I have found a man in the company, a cook, who keeps my hair cut and whiskers trimmed for two packs of cigarettes a week. That’s six pence a week and a hole in my ration card. I’ll keep the moustache as Exhibit A against those who oppose it back home. It’s a lot better now than it was in the “Two Sisters” picture. I boast.
Now I will move on to another V-form and make a confession that I am sure will make you wonder what I must look like. Continued—
Wallace
November 4, 1944 Saturday
Hello again, Hon – Experience, you know, is a thing that should not be avoided. I shall now confess to a new experience. On my ration card is a spot to authorize most anything. Since I always buy all I can get, I found myself in possession of a large hunk of chewing tobacco last week. I resolutely set out to give the thing a fair trial. After all, many people chew tobacco and enjoy it. I have broadmindedly been chewing and spitting all week, to the amazement of thousands, including myself. With half a hunk still to go I conclude that the taste of chewing tobacco is quite good. But its use is restricted to the out-of-doors, since if you swallow rather than expectorate freely you get dizzy. Excess expectoration by its own nature further restricts it to society where such action is approved. Except for the taste, it’s a lousy habit! And even the taste isn’t so good.
I am getting tired again; I planned to write three sections tonight, but will have to quit at two. Please excuse me, honey. I’ll go right to bed and dream of you as usual, in my snug sleeping bag – I have one now that zips right over my head and keeps out the cold air. I love you always.
All my love,
Wallace
This is one of those nights when I can’t seem to think of anything to write except G.I. things. And they bore both of us. I fired my carbine this morning. I am duty officer tonight (repaying Bukovinas for his goof turns to us this summer). My platoon is in fine shape. Changed two squad leaders recently, and it was for the best. I am getting so I know the platoon better all the time. I am pretty tired from being out in the cold all day.
Ah, yes, I still have my moustache – fuller and finer than ever. I have found a man in the company, a cook, who keeps my hair cut and whiskers trimmed for two packs of cigarettes a week. That’s six pence a week and a hole in my ration card. I’ll keep the moustache as Exhibit A against those who oppose it back home. It’s a lot better now than it was in the “Two Sisters” picture. I boast.
Now I will move on to another V-form and make a confession that I am sure will make you wonder what I must look like. Continued—
Wallace
November 4, 1944 Saturday
Hello again, Hon – Experience, you know, is a thing that should not be avoided. I shall now confess to a new experience. On my ration card is a spot to authorize most anything. Since I always buy all I can get, I found myself in possession of a large hunk of chewing tobacco last week. I resolutely set out to give the thing a fair trial. After all, many people chew tobacco and enjoy it. I have broadmindedly been chewing and spitting all week, to the amazement of thousands, including myself. With half a hunk still to go I conclude that the taste of chewing tobacco is quite good. But its use is restricted to the out-of-doors, since if you swallow rather than expectorate freely you get dizzy. Excess expectoration by its own nature further restricts it to society where such action is approved. Except for the taste, it’s a lousy habit! And even the taste isn’t so good.
I am getting tired again; I planned to write three sections tonight, but will have to quit at two. Please excuse me, honey. I’ll go right to bed and dream of you as usual, in my snug sleeping bag – I have one now that zips right over my head and keeps out the cold air. I love you always.
All my love,
Wallace
Saturday, January 15, 2011
November 3, 1944 Friday
Dear Honey,
I finally managed to get some V-mail forms, and promise to use them all I can. You V-mail has reached me in seven days or less—by far the best method. I hope this goes equally fast. I am glad you are finally getting some of my letters.
Tonite, after officers’ school, I went to a free movie at our semi-cylindrical mess hall, and saw “Flesh and Fantasy”; it was a very good show—almost the first movies I seen here. Did take in a couple at Liverpool.
You mentioned wearing my old leather jacket in today’s letter. Please make use of any of our things like that that you can. I like to think of you having them, too. I am very, very glad that you keep your letters coming even when mine don’t come. They do make us very close together, and next to seeing you, are the things I want most.
After censoring as much mail as I do, I can see that anything I say would be plagiarism—it’s been said every conceivable way, so let me add my own version of “I love you” to the mass now on its way. I do, Hon, awfully.
Your Wallace
I finally managed to get some V-mail forms, and promise to use them all I can. You V-mail has reached me in seven days or less—by far the best method. I hope this goes equally fast. I am glad you are finally getting some of my letters.
Tonite, after officers’ school, I went to a free movie at our semi-cylindrical mess hall, and saw “Flesh and Fantasy”; it was a very good show—almost the first movies I seen here. Did take in a couple at Liverpool.
You mentioned wearing my old leather jacket in today’s letter. Please make use of any of our things like that that you can. I like to think of you having them, too. I am very, very glad that you keep your letters coming even when mine don’t come. They do make us very close together, and next to seeing you, are the things I want most.
After censoring as much mail as I do, I can see that anything I say would be plagiarism—it’s been said every conceivable way, so let me add my own version of “I love you” to the mass now on its way. I do, Hon, awfully.
Your Wallace
November 1, 1944 Wednesday
Dearest Honey,
Was really busy today. Had the company on a hike all a.m., was with Lt. Fairbairn all p.m. cleaning up the payroll, went to a 2-hour long officers’ school tonite, and then censored mail until 11:30, which is now. Lt. Fairbairn and I are the only officers in the Company right now. Tomorrow he goes on a detail, so I will have the company.
Got some more mail from you today, dating from the day you made your speech at Uncle Carl’s birthday party to Oct. 25—which is not long ago—gee, I hope you are getting my mail now, hon. I hate to think of it not coming thru. I am not able to write every day, but I try to make the best average I can.
I appreciate your letters very, very much and am glad they come so frequently, even tho they are scrambled up. I am a little out of the groove as far as writing of “homey” things is concerned. That old G.I. rut takes most of my time and thoughts. I do get in just a little reading every now and then. I have a little manual on psychology, and a popular book on logical thinking about social problems. I really don’t get anywhere in them, just read them to keep from forgetting that there are things that are not G.I. Those books and your letters are about the total of civilian contacts I have.
I love you, honey, and hope our “future” will not be long in coming.
All my love, Bunny,
Wallace
Was really busy today. Had the company on a hike all a.m., was with Lt. Fairbairn all p.m. cleaning up the payroll, went to a 2-hour long officers’ school tonite, and then censored mail until 11:30, which is now. Lt. Fairbairn and I are the only officers in the Company right now. Tomorrow he goes on a detail, so I will have the company.
Got some more mail from you today, dating from the day you made your speech at Uncle Carl’s birthday party to Oct. 25—which is not long ago—gee, I hope you are getting my mail now, hon. I hate to think of it not coming thru. I am not able to write every day, but I try to make the best average I can.
I appreciate your letters very, very much and am glad they come so frequently, even tho they are scrambled up. I am a little out of the groove as far as writing of “homey” things is concerned. That old G.I. rut takes most of my time and thoughts. I do get in just a little reading every now and then. I have a little manual on psychology, and a popular book on logical thinking about social problems. I really don’t get anywhere in them, just read them to keep from forgetting that there are things that are not G.I. Those books and your letters are about the total of civilian contacts I have.
I love you, honey, and hope our “future” will not be long in coming.
All my love, Bunny,
Wallace
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
