Cherbourg, France

June 3, 1945

My dearest- “Chubby”:

This one of those typical Sundays like we used to have at home only there is one thing missing—YOU. It seems so peaceful and quiet today. The water is smooth, with hardly a ripple. I am sitting by my desk with the windows open looking out. I am about 15 feet from the water, as our building is located in a basin. When the war was still going on we had big Liberty and Victory ships come in to unload their cargo on the opposite our building. Just at this minute a U.S. Army tug came in and went out again, probably just taking a little cruise. They launched that boat I was telling you about last night and it worked pretty good, but they have a few more modifications to put on it now. Not everything worked according to plan. The motor wasn’t getting enough water to cool it off and the motor became to hot to keep going, so now they are fixing it again.

Believe it or not, but I had two letters from you today, both nice ones. That is something I can’t do. I blow my top to easy. I fit isn’t the army, it’s you. I am trying to do a little better than I did. How have my last letters sounded to you?

I have to laugh at you when you say how tired you get taking care of a house and the children by yourself. Don’t you ever sit down and realize what is ahead of you. For the rest of your life you are going to take care of the house, kids, do washings and hundreds of other things, and also try to make me happy and content. From the way you sound, you’ll never be able to do it unless you hire a maid.

You know Maggie, I’d like to eat one of your meals again. You cook pretty good, but it wouldn’t hurt you to keep at it and get some good pointers, unless you already have them. As for having our Sunday dinner on Saturday, I don’t think I would like that. After all what is a Sunday dinner for? Not for Saturday. If we want to go out we will have an early dinner or maybe eat out. You are forgetting that I will be out of the army and you will be seeing me every day not only Sundays. After a year or so you’ll be so tired of seeing me, you’ll be glad for weekdays. I think we will have plenty of time to ourselves. We’ll just make plenty of time. I think everything will turn out alright, as long as you don’t try to change customs of hundreds of years. I think you would make a good President.

I guess I do take a dark view on things Maggie, especially when it comes to pints and coming home. You are building yourself up for a big let down, that’s probably why you think I have a dark view. Those points aren’t going to go down enough for me, and you can’t expect me home for another year at the least. How much longer, no one knows. It makes me mad to think the people at home think I will soon be home now that the war is over, but then maybe it makes them feel better thinking that way. It’s not that I don’t want to come home, for there is no one that wants to get home as bad as I. When the time comes, they will release me I guess. I think the system they are using is very crooked, but I am in no position to do anything about it. All I am praying for now is a quick victory over Japan.

I do love you Maggie, and I have always been true to you, and always will. There may be some lonely WACs, Red Cross girls and “pretty” French girls over here, but there isn’t any woman that bother me anymore. I’ve heard so many stories from home that make a guy hate all women. I haven’t been bothered by women since Aug- 1942, and she is the only one that I want anything to do with. This woman I am talking about- the one met in Aug- 1942, well she is my beloved wife. And believe me, I do love her. If I ever do anything wrong honey, I’ll let you know, then you can decide what to do with me. I don’t think you’ll have to worry- I won’t let you down.

All my love and the biggest kiss you ever received from me,

Pres.