Letter No I
My Dear Darling,
Honey, I got a letter today again and am I glad to hear from you. Am sure glad to hear that you got my letters and also from your mother and bro and sis. You should get a lot more. I’ll start numbering my letters and you’ll know then if some get lost–I hope you get them all.
Honey, the mission you were writing about has started. I listen to the news all day. You all are doing a wonderful job but I sure worry a lot and know everyone else does too. I’ll pray every night, my honey, that you are kept safe and that this war ends soon so you can come home and everything will be right again.
Honey, I may wait to go to work in Canning factory. Pat and Eileen want me to come to Dubuque, but I don’t think much of the idea. I’m satisfied here until winter and then hope the war will be over and will be satisfied any place — won’t we honey? Honey, if there is anything you would like for me to send you just write and ask me. If you send me any money I want you to know that I’ll use it to pay off our bills or save it. By Sept. or Oct. I should be out of debt if I work in canning factory. I’ve paid off $60 in last two months. It costs very little here to live. The refrigerator works swell. Sure is nice in summer time.
If I could get some film I’d have some pictures taken and send you some, but they are so hard to get. I can’t find the negative of the picture of you and I together, but I may run on to them later on then I’ll send them to your mother. Honey, when will I get the bonds? I’ve never heard a thing about the one in Knox. Do you have anything to show for it? Lots of boys have sent them home and their wives or folks have never gotten them. I’d hate to have them lost cuz I want to save all them till you get home.
Today I helped Babe hoe potatoes and she gave me a dollar. I sure was hot in the ole potato patch. Then we went in swimming under the bridge to get cooled off. I’m as brown (maybe as some of those natives?). Are there any good looking girls over there? Hands off! There sure aren’t any good lookin’ men left over here. They are all in the Army I guess. Anyway, all I want is my own poppy and no one else. It’s 11 o’clock Monday night, way past my bedtime, but I want to listen to the news once more before going to bed. The paper said the Engineers paved the way for the infantry with torpedoes and I’m thinking that’s where you were. It sounds terribly dangerous to me to be the first ones–you must be made of what it takes or you wouldn’t be up in front. But I know everything will be alright.
Barney Cale came home A.W.O.L. a couple weeks ago and now he’s in the guardhouse. He has had three furloughs, but got piggish–he’s a private again now.
Well baby, guess I’d better close and go to bed. I meant to write to your mother tonight but it’s too late now. Will do it tomorrow.
Will write soon,
All My Love, Yours Forever,
P.S. Write if it’s only a line. I’m so anxious to hear since the invasion.