Tuesday- 11 a.m.

January 16, 1945

My dearest husband:

            I’m really worried about Allen. I’m afraid he is going to be a janitor or a street-cleaner. Always he is cleaning. I suppose I shouldn’t encourage it but I brought him a little broom-whisk broom. Right now he found the duet mop behind the door and is running it over the floors. I’ve just got the sweeper back from being repaired where he took it apart. I suppose he gets it from me because I was always cleaning last year. Heavens knows what this one will be, washerwoman probably.

            I was afraid maybe my letter would offend you but sometimes it seems as if you need a good going over when you get those stubborn streaks.  After all you are a man now and have a man’s job to do whether it’s firing a gun or keeping one cleaned. The only way this old war will ever be won is by long hours, long tiresome hours, of work. There’ll be many hours when you get so scared and tired, you’ll wonder if there’s any use but there is, honey. There’s a reason for everything, even the some things which we must accept without explanation as far as this world goes. I feel so ashamed sometimes when I hear how badly men are needed or war workers knowing that I am capable but I guess the Lord would say that children are important too. I just feel that, directly, I am not doing enough to bring you home quicker, or safer. Indirectly, I guess I am doing my best. Anyhow- I get pretty tired by night.

            As long as I hear from you regularly and know you are getting along smoothly, I guess I can stand living lonesome a while longer- and there is no reason why you shouldn’t due getting along or barring lonesomeness and boredom because you are a little older and able to stick up for your rights and because you have a good knowledge of what your work requires. So all we have to do is sit tight on our particular keg of TNT.

            Yes, I guess I am taking it more easy. I try to keep my home clean and our things picked up and I still do the washing. It gives me more time with Allen which is what I want because he doesn’t mind too well as you know.

            “All of a sudden” my hip is better. It has gone in and out of place before but never so long. It was really miserable as I couldn’t walk without limping dreadfully. I guess I told you I only weigh 138 pounds. It won’t be much longer, I hope. A couple of times I’ve thought it was the real thing but no soap. The way I had it figured it should have been about the 14^th because of two weeks after what is called lightening-or is it dropping? Maybe I will take a dose of Carter Oil. –but you told me not to so I guess maybe I‘d better not. If it comes today, you’ll get your medal alright, don’t worry.

            What was I doing in the snow? I walked to town. I do wish you were here. It’s nice to know someone is looking out for you and is watching even when one is twenty four.

            Honestly, Pres, the quilt is beautiful. Mom is doing it in my room and the frames take up a lot of room. I haven’t been able to get straightened around as well as I’d like to for this reason. The quilt will have to be washed or dry cleaned though. I hope it’s a girl so she will appreciate is some day.

Did I tell you I’ve took our washing to the laundry and they took all our towels and wash cloths? So that doesn’t pay either.

             I will try to get you some blue blades.  So I told you I have some blades ordered for you. They are expensive blades (10) and are supposed to be like blue blades. If you don’t use them, sell them someone because they’re good. I’m getting them from the Fuller Brush man.

            Allen just picked up the play pen and tried to carry it. Dad says by the time he’s ten, we’re going to have to chain him up.

            Did I tell you I slipped and fell in the bathtub Saturday night? My back end is black and blue. It hurt.

            Here I have written all this and not once told you I love you and that is what you want to know. I do love you Preston. More every day. For every new thing Allen does, it makes me love you more. I love you for every word you write to me- so you better write long letters.

            We did have so much fun in Toledo & Port Clinton we had two perfect months of fun with never a quarrel. That’s more than some people have. Naturally, we’ll never have a time like that again but it’ll be different altogether as happy. You’re wrong- we started to dine at 9 p.m. Sunday August 2, 1942. Over a bottle of beer, a chicken sandwich and fried tomatoes.

            Allen just got a dollar from Dad and two from your mom and dad and cards from Ruth and the kids.

            Thank you, honey, for the pillow. I was afraid you had forgotten but I should have known you wouldn’t forget.

            Your letter was interesting. So you got sick. Well- I hope you haven’t started drinking. I guess you wouldn’t though. You know, I don’t mind a little bit but that other business is disgusting.

            Dad’s going to mail this so I’ll be quick. More later. I love you. Be good.

All my love,

Maggie