France

March 18, 1945

My dearest wife:

I missed writing to you for two days because we had to make a move. We will probably be at this place for a while. I have a new A.P.O. number as you can see by the envelope. It will probably be a while now before mail catches up to us again. I waited almost a month before. I hope things turn out better this time. We passed through some towns that were just about leveled. Some of them sure took a beating.

Honey the other day at mail call I really hit the jack pot. I had nine letters, eight from you and one from Mother. It was so good to hear from you again. I had a swell time reading them. I don’t think you can imagine how good I felt. You probably will feel the same way when you start hearing from me. The way I had it figured out you should have received some mail from me around the 12^th of March. Am I right?

I am so glad you like your pin honey. I really did get it because of your eyes. I do hope you will like it and wear it when I come home. It’s really hard to buy anything over here. Everything is so darn expensive, and what they have is of inferior quality. I think the best thing to do is save my money and send it to you. I am still going to try to get you some good perfume.

I haven’t wrote Jack yet, but I am going to as soon as I get settled down again. Thanks for the address.

How well I remember the first time I kissed you. That is a hard thing to forget. I think of our old days in Toledo and Port Clinton so often wishing I could live them over again. Wouldn’t it be fun. That kiss you sent via mail was good. How about more?

It’s good to hear your weight is down again. I think if you get your weight down to about 115 to 118 you should be just about perfect. You can put in an application for the Miss America contest. I would like to have a picture of you so I can see what you really do look like. You have to keep me informed you know.

Thanks for the razor blades Maggie, they are swell and very thoughtful of you. I sure appreciate them, no fooling.

I too, think you are going to like the east, and the sooner you get there the better I’ll feel. I’d really feel better knowing you were there, and you probably know that too.

I had a letter from Mother, and she told me about May’s house. Maybe you wouldn’t want to live so close to home. It is a much larger home than the other one down the street, and probably a much better buy. It has a bath, three bed rooms, and a lovely third floor, all done in plaster which could be used for bed rooms. It has no heater, but that shouldn’t cost too much. It has a dining room, but the wall could be taken out between there and the living room. I have my supplier in one of the Army’s prefabricated shacks. Two of them put together, set on a foundation with a cellar would make a swell home. You could put brick shingles outside, but in a ceiling and insulate it, make some rooms, anyway it would be kinda nice.

Mother always says Phyllis is tickled about the little baby. She says I have a gentlemens pair, and I have enough now. How right she is. Don’t you think.

How is Bobby behaving? Is she still crying her lungs out? She’s probably mad because she didn’t get to see me, and what a disappointment I am. I guess this is all for tonight Mag. I’ll answer more letters tomorrow, it gives me something to write about.

I love you too honey, and I won’t let you down.

All my love, Pres.