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Dvr H.Adler
PAL/30765
650, G.T.Coy R.A.S.C
“B”Platoon
C.M.F

3 December.

Good morning. My sweet darling. How are you?  A little disgruntled after having seen our little Ouri. The visit was too short. I see it. You love him so very much, this little man, and the grand mother makes him walk through the world, the grand mother with her out of date principles. And it is you who should have walked with him; you show him to the world, to introduce him into life, to show him the beautiful and the ugly, the good and the bad. To educate him. So all that makes you feel bad – the blues are there, eh!

Well it mustn’t be so, darling. Of course it would be ridiculous to wish that it wouldn’t upset you. It has to. It’s good that it does. But I want to say to Yvette, my well beloved, that you mustn’t let despair enter your heart so pure, into your motherly heart, to the point where depression eats it. You must protect your heart for later. For Ouri, darling. He will grow. He will know and he will understand. He will understand that he is your son, really yours. And it is in you that he will seek refuge, comfort, and love. Then he will need to find it. No darling, you must let your heart be eaten by wicked depression. Protect it for him – for us.

I know that it is useless in this case to speak reasonably, to use “if”, “why”, to discuss, demonstrate, develop a stupid analysis, even if it emerges from the rigid wood of logic-

Let me remind you how many people are suffering at the present time: from cruel separations, separations without tomorrows, of hells left at their departure. Think of lovers separated, mothers witness to the massacre of their children. And then again of this: think of what is and what will become. Even for the good of Ouri. He will understand it, I am sure.

And then, the day is approaching when you will be able to take Ouri by the hand and never leave him again. You will lead him to his other grand mother, the good, intelligent, the marvellous Helene, the woman who brought into the world the true woman. So don’t be sad, little one.

Tell me darling, how do you write this word? Is it  “poussinet?”. If it is, then listen “pousinette”:

Tonight, I saw in my dream – you, of course, and there’s nothing extraordinary about that – for sure- But this time, something very peculiar came to me.  Something soft, tender which belongs to me, exclusively, because I discovered it, I caressed it, cajoled it and no one else: this little thingumabob, this “beauty spot”, covered with fine fur, there, right under its eye, on its cheek, on the side of his nose – you know what I’m thinking. “Good evening, Henry”, it said to me, I pine for your caresses, I am now alone, abandoned…” Then his brother came. He of your mouth.

The one there – look at yourself in the mirror – on the corner of your lip – top – bottom— no, just where one finishes and the other begins.

Then I consoled them. I talked to them about the war. The necessity in which man finds himself now, to live a “heroic” life before he can then live in peace as a simple man, cherishing his loved ones, etc etc.

We spoke long and warmly, they agreed with me, the dears, and I went to sleep happily.

But before that, there were many caresses; did you feel them darling? If you did, then forgive me for I prevented you from sleeping peacefully.

What a wicked little man you have darling!  But he loves you; he loves you, my God, how he loves you.

                                                your

                                                Henri

This letter is a point of life and of health that I send you.

I have not yet received your packet.

I wait for your photo more than anything else.

As for our kid, it’s sure that we’ll have one. I know it. I feel it. I am full of happiness. Thanks, thanks for your so beautiful so loving letters, for the confidence in the future which you fill me with. Darling!

Henri