France
September 11, 1944
Dear Mother and all,
I just finished a letter to Kenneth and am going to make
a stab at one to you and Rosalie. Everything is going on as usual around here.
I washed a few pieces this morning. After that I rigged up an old bicycle that
we hauled from England with us. I rode it around town a while and have been
fooling with it off and on all day when I haven’t been busy. Just down the
road, a French man has got some of the best damned peaches I mean that I’ve had
in France. Ha. Yesterday, I gave a Frenchman an old shirt of mine and he
invited me over to his place. I went over and he brought out cider and cognac
and a glass. I took the glass and walked over to the pump and drank a couple of
glasses of water and said no thanks to his drinks. He thought I was crazy. His
daughter brought me a handful of ripe apples and peaches. They weren’t as good
as those I picked down the road.
I just had Bing Crosby and a good program on. My radios
do come in handy for something anyway. I’ll cut this one short and write a
quick note to Rosalie before dark.
Love to allYour son,
Max
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