June 10. 1945

June 10, 1945

Staab, Czech.

Dear Mother, Dad, & Girls:

             We just finished with supper and I thought I would write a couple of letters before I wondered off somewhere again. I have been off to a ball game and down at the swimming hole in the river all afternoon. Beings this was Sunday, we have the day off now that there isn’t any war going on over here. You would think that about every day was Sunday with us the way we mess around all the time. After we get all of our half-tracks ready to go again, there isn’t much to do but to pass the time playing ball until we get something definite to do.

            You know the other night I said we were going fishing, well we went out and got eighteen of the prettiest bass you ever saw. We took a pitch fork along but the water was too deep for it and not clear enough to see them so we had to use hand grenades. Boy they really worked good. All we had to do was go in the water and pick them up when they come to the top. The civilians couldn’t understand how in the world we were getting them. We would go down the river with only our towels and come back thirty minutes later with a string of fish. After we did that a couple of times they were going crazy.

            How is the house coming along now? It should be nearly finished if you were able to get the material. We won’t have a porch now will we? Did the fruit trees turn out anything this year? And the garden, what all have you got---or have you. Ha. I guess you’re both away too much that you don’t have much time to notice things at home much. Are you running the radios there at the court house Dad? Well I can’t think of anything to write about tonight so I’ll stop for this time.

Love to all,
Your son,
Max