20 November 1942

A transcript follows the letter images.


I Love You,

Nov 20, 1942


It is now 7:25 A.M.             I Love You

I have to quit now.             I Love You.

I’ll start later.                       I Love You.

Between now and then      I’ll Love You.

See     —     I Love You

x Walt x

My Dear,

I’m here. Oncet again. 5 mins. later. and I still love. Can you imagine that. Well—I do love you—whether your imagination is any good or not.

I was reading Nov. “Readers Digest” yesterday (last evening)—In it was one of the sweetest love letters I ever read. It was original too. It was from a fellow in France who was writing to a girl in the U.S. It all happened during the last war. Outside of the sentiment in it There was nothing that pertained to us except for one thing that he felt that I do also. He (said) told her in his letter how that, every time he saw beautiful flowers and such

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things he always thought of her and wish that she could see them to. How he associated everything that happened with her. If he was happy he would think of her and wish she could be there and be happy with him. If he was blue or things weren’t going quite right—if he could only tell her about it, his troubles wouldn’t amount to near as much. You know Honey—That is the way I do—You are in my mind forever and all the time in some way or another. It would be an impossibility for me to ever forget you. For, even if I can’t see you and you are miles and miles away you are still very near and very real to me. It is often that I feel as tho I could reach out and touch you or talk to you. Sometimes it sounds in my imagination as tho I’ve heard you say my name. I’ve even turned my head. It makes things much better for me—Maybe that is why I get along as well as I do. The reason I mentioned the story was, it seemed strange to me how closely that other fellow’s tho’ts parelled my own. Well Honey—I have to “fall out”—So—until tonight—I Love You—x Walt x I Love You.


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