Luxembourg

Feb 24, 1945

Dearest Helen –

Here are two more examples of “Art and War” and despite the lack of either ingredient, it still makes a good title – it has a sort of Homeric completeness – so – I shall desist from further comment. The scribblings on the back of each should prove self-explanatory.

I’ve just had a late evening snack consisting of a gigantic sandwich made of tongue (courtesy of Galai’s Super Market), bread (courtesy of “A” Co kitchen) and cheese (courtesy of Wynshaw’s Delicatessen, Pitkin Ave Branch). Now with an after-snack cigarette at hand, the pad of paper on my knee, and some water heating over the fire, I sit and write letter No. X to you. I wonder how many letters I’ve written to you since I sent my first missive on a blotter, wasn’t it? By a rough calculation I figure it should be about 350-400. Now that’s an awful lot of letters – or perhaps I’ve over-estimated. Anyway, the point is that I never would have believed that I’d write that much mail to one person – or even that my entire correspondence would total that much – for I was always a notoriously poor correspondent. It was only with great effort and then after a long lapse of time that I could even bring myself to answer mail. And now, look at me – writing every day – and to me it is quite an accomplishment. If the quality could but match the quantity – By the same token, I can truthfully say that I never expected to ever receive so much mail from one individual – or that letters could even mean so much to me – to look forward to them with such eagerness – and to receive such mental stimulus and sheer pleasure from their reading.

And never did I believe I would miss anyone so much – to feel so great a need for anyone as I feel for you. In fact, I’d never felt any great need for anyone until that night I left for camp, thinking to be on my way to Louisiana. – And the next day upon learning that the trip had been postponed for one day – I couldn’t contain myself until I had dashed madly back to Washington and was knocking at your door – and this same feeling exists with even greater intensity today and will grow, and grow until I’m knocking at your door once again –

Good night and –
All my love,
Ted