Viewing page 17 of 73

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

                                     July 24, 1943
Dear Hedda, 
I had a letter from you dated June 14, the one with the story of the stork, nice story, quite embarrassing for the censor. Even I, I thought for a moment that it means more than you want to tell me but probably it's only a story and you forgot about it already- I'd like you to write me sometimes a nice, sound, primitive love letter, I'm very simple, especially now and here and I'd like that- All is a lot less confusing here than it was back in the States. We talk long hours about a glass of cold scotch and soda, about a CocaCola, about a glass of cold water- I have here only boild water and I have to drink it hot from my canteen wich I always carry with me. The water smells and tastes like the rice paddy from wich it comes. I spent here only 10 days so far but my only and dominant though was about water- Right now its very hot here and I'm perspiring all the salts and vitamins from me- The letter I'm writing you is really wet with sweat. This is the worst time of the year and in a month or two will be