Cherbourg, France

June 11, 1945

My dearest, sweetie:

There still isn’t anything to write about. I tried to write last night but each time I tried I tore it up. I know you don’t enjoy needing silly stuff that means nothing at all. Its almost a week now since the last time I heard from you. The mail situation is really getting tough. I’m not the only one, it just about the whole company. You letters always give me something more to write about. I have been missing you very much again. (I mean yet) I love you Maggie darling, so much that I’ll bet you can but it where you are sitting now. Tell me you love me, again and again for I like to hear it from you.

I went out with some of the boys this afternoon and picked up another boat. Say this one is really something. It must have cost about six thousand dollars or more at one time. Its about 45 feet long. Its what you really call a yacht. It has a nice little cabin, and a sink and a place to do a little cooking- its really swell, but it still needs some work. They are going to replace the motor and a few other things have to be done. It may take a couple of weeks before it is ready. We will probably move out by that time. That’s how things usually happen.

Speaking about having thing tough, I think we have it tough here too. One day last week we had steak for dinner and chicken for supper. Yesterday, Sunday we had our usual chicken dinner and today dinner we had canned turkey. Don’t say we don’t have it tough. I didn’t tell what we have between those good meals, they are usually bad enough to last until Sunday’s.

You feeling better by now? Hows your weight- chubby? I have been reading some articles, and a woman your height should weigh about 110-115 at the most. But you are not doing bad only 20 or 25 pounds over weight, and maybe that’s good for a mother with two lovely children—Anyway I love you my darling. Always—and don’t you forget that.

How are the children Maggie? If Bobby is anything like Allen, she should be trying to stand on her feet by now. Allen did when he was about her age. I have a picture of you sitting on the grows at our place in Franklin, and Allen is standing up looking, he was only about 4 ½ months then. I’d give anything to see Bobby. I just can’t imagine what she looks like or you either. I actually forgot what you look like, although I guess I could pick you out of a million. I just hope she is half as cute as you, if she is then I know everything is going to be alright. I do love our children, but I love their mother most of all for she is my sweetheart. Can’t you call the little kid Bobby? Don’t you like the name? You better get used to it for that’s what I’m going to call her when I am home. Tell Allen to be careful with my little girl. I don’t want her all bumped up, at least not until I see what she looks like. I’ll bet he is a little rough neck.

I love you Maggie. You do behave me don’t you?

Goodnite dearest.

All my love,

Pres.

P.S. Write me a 20 pages sometime SOON