November 3, 1944
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310.31.1-4.2016 Transcription
Somewhere in So. France 3 Nov. 44—Monday
Dearest,
How is ya? I’ll bet your warm—anyway, huh?
Maybe too warm if Mom& Dada are blaring that gas furnace
like you said they once did. Anyhooo, please send me
airmail special delivery one big canful of furnace
heat, huh? Guess the reason this French coldness is
really hitting me today is that it is raining. Ever since
landing in France I had awaited [unenthusiastically][1]
that first rain storm which creates that Famous-
French-Mud. Lovely! it’s the gooeyest & heaviest goop
you ever ran into. And my mud is minimal
compared to that the poor Infantry GIs have to deal
c̅[2] most of the time. Anyhooo, the cold is really
penitrating via its intense dampness. Added, of course
is the fact that only rarely does a French living
quarters have decent heat to drive out wall & floor
dampness. Never before have I felt free to write much
about how we have been quarters because not time
enough had passed to satisfy censorship—it seems
that the longer you are here (& the closer you are to real
action) the freer are censorship rules. I understand
infantrymen right on a battle line can tell exactly
where they are. Well, enough time should have passed
to tell you that the medical personel of this General
Hospital to which I am still “loaned” [for an indefinite
number of weeks][3] are quartered in 3 differently located
French “hotels”. I quote the “hotels as [only][4] one of the 3 is a
fine place expect for hygiene appliances [which no Frenchman
seems much concerned about][5] & the other 2 places are worthy
only of being written, “hotel”. I live in one of the lesser places.
Once in a blue moon you can feel a feeble thrust of
heat trying to push its way through a century-chilled
[2]
radiator. Today c̅ the element of more dampness added via
the rain, none of the 4 of us went back to our “hotel” room
after supper. Sooo, we sit here in the true-hotel just
waiting for bed time to come around. Oh, yes, speaking of
hotels, you will learn more about them when the
second half of a letter arrives Bismarck [The first half of
the letter was the one I wrote about Clarice’s brother, Roy, etc][6].
While on hotels, “hotels”, & even houses, let me tell
you something interesting. [This may sound unbelievable][7]. Most
every French building has in its “bathroom” (hooey! blah!) a
funny looking plumbing-furniture you would say looks
like half a sitz bath/half a foot bath/half a something.
For days you cock your head first one way & then the
other way [like a Collie dog][8] trying to figure out just
what in Hell its for & how you use it. [P.S. All this time you
dont use it, of course][9]. Finally, you learn the answer which
is so common place/“natural” to the French that it just
doesn’t enter their mind to tell you about it. Well—
French people never use to (& even in the last 10 years rarely
have changed over) USE TOILET PAPER. Instead, after each
defecation, or woman’s voiding, they half sit-half stand-
half-squat over this “sitz-foot-bath” & wash their
anus or their vulva c̅ their hand. Well if great grand-
pa did it I guess I could too (but my grandpa use corncobs)
soooo—we American (thank God) GIs just stand
& void into them & laugh while we are doing it.
Before I forget—you practically never see a toilet (per se) [ouch!][10]
in the same room; that is way down the hall & you
walk back to this “sitz-footer” in your room to finish
the job. Wonder what their underwear looks like, huh?!?
Via remote grapevine & inquiring I have learned
where Clyde is. Our paths probably will never cross (damn it!)
[3]
but its so aggrivating to think that we could see each other
if roads, buses, or trains were anywhere near decent here.
Why, if it were back in Dakota, I’d just get in a car & go
drive & see him. To try to drive here would be beyond
sensible planning as well as fool handy, Again—damittohell!
Dear, I’m just sick about something—for the
past half few days I meant to tell you in my letters about
how grand your knit[t]ed muffler was. Less than 3 hours
ago it was [IM SURE!][11] stolen from me. I hunted like
mad for half an hour just to be open minded & not
go off half cocked c̅ the idea of theft being the only
cause for its disappearance. Every time I think of it
I just boil!! My #1 obsession for days has been the
theivery of these Frenchmen, & now here today I imagine
it was an “inside-job” by one of our own GIs.
Tomorrow, I’m going to really put on “the-screws”! Ü ! ★,
to do everything possible to run it down.
There is nothing very pertinent or important in
this letter so I think I’ll send it in the morning as just
as “ad-lib” letter. I won’t itemize previous mailings
tonight either as I have done before.
I’m so anxious for each day to come now that
one of your letters (Nov 1st) came through, & apparently we
have established somewhat of a “mail contact”.
[EYES
OFF[12] Terry[13]—kiss her real real nice for me
Tonight.][14]
All my love to you both,
Dave
[1] Bracketed text is part of original.
[2] Medical abbreviation meaning “with.”
[3] Bracketed text is part of original.
[4] Bracketed text inserted into original with a caret.
[5] Bracketed text is part of original.
[6] Bracketed text is part of original.
[7] Bracketed text is part of original.
[8] Bracketed text is part of original.
[9] Bracketed text is part of original.
[10] Bracketed text is written along right-hand margin, with a two-way arrow pointing to “(per se).”
[11] Bracketed text is part of original.
[12] “EYES OFF” written in upper-left hand corner of opening bracket.
[13] Their infant son.
[14] Bracketed text is part of original