My dearest wife, France

April 28, 1945

Sat. Mid. Night

I don’t remember if I numbered the letter lost night or not, anyways I’ll start where I left off.

We finally had some mail come in today. There from you, and another from Ray. That makes two in about a week from him. I am glad to him from him, after all he is my brother.

Say, Maggie, I guess I told you before I wish you would go out and have a drink every night before you write me. You sure can write the good letters. I just love to hear you talk that way and I like your letters that way (edited for content). I guess you know what I mean.

It is Saturday night again, and I miss you so much again. I love you Maggie. Just hold out a while longer. It can’t be very much longer anymore. I too wish I had something to drink, maybe then I could write a good letter. Your letter’s don’t make me feel bad, just keep that kind up.

I feel the same way as you honey, it comes a few times a day, but the only thing I can do is to forget about it, but sometimes that doesn’t help. I want you to believe me when I say I am still waiting for you. I want you bad too.

That’s a promise Maggie. I’ll stay sober for two days for two days when we go off on our little trip. But we are going to get drunk together too. I want to go somewhere where no one knows us or will bother us for a week or two.

Maggie, I wouldn’t have another for 10 million dollars. No fooling. That’s the way I feel about it. I don’t want out children to grow up for cannon fouder. They will probably have to do the same thing over again. I’ll try to be slower for you Maggie. I was glad you brought that up. I like to know how you want things. (Edited for content)I do love you—you know.

You know honey, every fellow I’ve talked with that’s been to Toledo thinks is a swell place, and one of the best place they have been since there in the Army. I know it is one place I’ll never forget, and I don’t want to. And to think I almost went to Cleveland that week—and I met you. Whenever I feel blue I just think of the time I walked in the door of Walgreen’s staring at you. I’ll bet my face was all kinds of colors, and you—you were as pretty as a picture sitting there smoking a cigarette. To me it seems as though everything was planned. Even my going to the hospital. It gave you time to think things over, and how much you missed me for those few days, and make plans for our marriage. I’ll never forget the place we drank in Toledo and our dancing together, (and I do like to dance with you) and our walks home. I think I did pretty good getting you in on time, although we did miss a few times. Those are the memories I have of you, but the most vivid one now is that I love you with all my heart. No one could ever take your place in my life. Just think we will have a brand new start when I come home, and I think we will do alright if we both pull together.

Please honey write more letters like you did this one. No. 41. I like them.

It’s late so I guess I’ll say goodnite my dearest.

All my love,

Pres.