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Dvr H.Adler
PAL/30775
650, G.T.Coy R.A.S.C
“B”Platoon  
M.E.F.

5 September 1943

It is terrible to have no news of you.  It is now a long time since I have seen you. And it’s such a long time since I have had a letter from you. And that will go on more and more, who knows for how long!

It is very hard. It’s not that I am apprehensive, nervous or sad. It is worse. It’s a void, a horrible void that forms within me and around me.

Last week I have been intensely busy. Work and waiting. I was waiting for you. And how I awaited you! With all my being. Each day I said to myself, this is the day she will arrive. You will come, all radiant, beautiful as you are, your intelligent eyes and your glance so soft resting on me, and I, I, despite waiting for you so impatiently I would have no doubt stayed mouth open, stupefied, as usual. Then little by little, I would have come to my senses; I would have been able to pronounce your name, darling, that I murmur so often, but this time, knowing that you hear me.  Then happiness would have begun to invade me in great bursts, irresistibly, until it quite enveloped me

Oh darling, darling, darling. I love you so much, my sweet little one.  Each evening I have been in town, then when it became late and I understood that it would not be tonight, I began to stroll through the streets and lanes, watching without reacting to whatever. A void being. And I ended up, as usual, in a cinema admiring the stupidity of the directors.

But as I lay down to sleep I saw you coming, next day.

During the day I worked and prepared myself to welcome you in the evening. And there it is. You didn’t come. Because you couldn’t. Neither could I come to see you. And besides, I had to leave with the full moon and the chicken (?) poulet, as the last memory. Oh how beautiful it is, that memory. Like all my memories. But I would have liked still more, always more, so as to fill my entire head. It is already full to breaking point. But that doesn’t matter at all, I would like still more, even if must explode.

I am ravenous for you, you understand, ravenous.

And still more. Because one can be ravenous and live. But me, I don’t live without you. Believe me, Yvette, without you, it is a corpse that walks in a dead world. And I have no letters. You see that, eh!? What more can I say? That’s enough.  You already know all about me.

I am now in the Y.M.C.A at the same table; I am writing and it appears that by the time you read this letter, I will already be far away.

The news is good. The end of fascism approaches. The Red Army produces marvels and it seems that the Allies have decided to go right to the end. (That’s to say up to a certain point). That makes the heart rejoice and I would like more quickly to get into action. That’s to tell you how much this inertia is aggravating and how it adds to my irritability.

Darling, what will happen after the war? Fascism defeated, the peoples in revolt for a more just social order and you, found again, living inseparably with me.  Do you agree, darling, that this will happen? I love to imagine it. With all the details.  First of all, we will meet each other again. Here? In liberated Europe?  What will our meeting be like? How could I not cry out like a madman or be stupefied, as I have been before? Then we will have to dream about out “establishment”.  What a grand word! Five thousand francs per month eh!  A trifle! It won’t be too difficult for us to find a corner to bring up our kids in dignity. Isn’t that so darling?  Somewhere in the world there will be a little house with a pretty garden all around (flowers and also vegetables) and in the house there will be Helene and Ouri and Manka and Jean or the little Helene or the two of them and others, all of whom we will cherish. And we two, we will love each other so tenderly, in our work, in the struggle, in the whole of life. And you, intelligent as you are, will deploy all your efforts to see that all this happiness does not kill me. You will introduce me to this world of happiness, no, – we will go into it together. Each leads the other.

Oh, I begin to wander. You see how empty I am. Impossible to connect my thoughts. They are only of my love for you. They are: love, tenderness, to love, I love, we love each other. My thoughts are these.

And there are still some others – and you know there are! – but they also are permeated with you. The end of fascism is no longer an end in itself (philosophically it never was. It was the beginning of something else). Now it is linked with the promise of a life with you, darling.

Yvette, I love you little one. Don’t be afraid: the void is passing. I am sure that as soon as we are together, I will come alive again. I am also sure that as soon as the struggle demands it, I will be of certain worth.

As you know there are many people who believe in my intelligence and my capacity. Even now, there are those who have confidence in me. Have confidence in me yourself too. Our love is strong, beautiful and healthy. Its fruits also. I know it. Because I know that this love has created a real world for me. And this world is beautiful. I know that you have created me – a man with a human heart. I know that I was incomplete until you loved me. You came and you completed me with your beautiful self.

My darling, my well beloved wife, I need you, I want you, I love you.  I am happy and I owe it to you.

I never forget that Yvette is there, that she is beautiful, that she is good, that she loves me, that she is all my life, that she will be the mother of the little one. And that is good. It is so good! That, and nothing but that, makes for life.

I embrace you tenderly,

Your

Henri

I have met Sophie and Hanna. In the street. Then one evening I chatted with Hanna. Or rather, it is she who spoke. Me, I was with you. H