August 7, 1944

France

August 7, 1944

Dear Mother, Dad, & Girls,

                I should have wrote yesterday but I put it off as usual. We have been living in hog heaven the last few days. The people treat us like kings. When we come into a city, especially one of the larger ones, just a few hours after it has been taken, the people are wild with joy because they are free. They swarm around you and will give you anything they have from their daughter to champagne. France is truly a drunkard’s paradise. The boys go around with their vehicle half full of wine, cognac, champagne, and are choosy of what brand they drink even. The other night one of the French boys asks me where I slept and I told him on the ground – I made my bed. He took me to his place and offered me his bed. And man talk about pretty girls, there are hundreds of them here – just like out in California at the beach. Lots of them can speak English too. One of the fellows walk up to a beautiful girl and was just adoring her and saying everything to her and the girls says “do you speak good English?” ha just as plain as even. This kid turned every color imaginable. He didn’t think she could understand him. I don’t imagine the French people were near so nice to the yanks in the last war with Dad. I can picture you if they were. We are by a big Catholic chapel and school of some sort where French cadets were once trained the padre or (father) speaks English and translates for us. We had a soccer game with the French boys the other day. I even played some poker with them French. We have quite a time and a lot of fun. It is real interesting to hold a conversation with these people and hear the stories they have to tell about the Germans and what all they did to them.

            How are you all at home – well I hope. I had a good letter from Kenneth yesterday. I got me some air mail envelopes yesterday so I’m alright now. That’s just it, one time they say we can’t get anymore then they get us some. “Oh this is the army Mr. Jones.” Well guess I’ll sign off for now, wish I could tell you more.

Love to all,
Your son,
Max.
P.S. – That last coin I sent was only equal to one of our pennies, this one is worth two cents. Oh yes, here is the picture of the house I ate at.