He is a fire-eater.

Dec. 1, 1942

My Darling Wife.

No letters yesterday or today. However rumor has it that mail will be in tomorrow, and perhaps packages in a day or so. I’m hoping for a lot of mail—some of it recent. Oct 12, is my latest.

Well, the new company commander has taken over. I’m still executive officer but it looks like he is going to make me take a platoon as well. He is a fire-eater—maybe he will be alright. At least he agrees with a lot of my ideas on training. For the past few days we have been setting up our new camp. It is getting to be a habit now to do all the construction work [we do on?] each camp site.

They have opened up an enlisted men’s canteen and an officer’s club in the adjacent village. That will please the men. We were able to buy a case of cigarettes today which was a lucky break. The men are practically out and I’m down to my last three two cartons. We have been able to buy beer for the men. It comes in quart bottles, is highly carbonated like American beer, but has very little body—i.e. it lacks the hops we use in our beer.

My cold is a little better—but not over yet. It is very cold at night and it is easy to get chilled. My flask of Scotch which I brought with me goes pretty well with aspirin to knock out the cold. When the Scotch goes I have cognac to take over. Have you ever tasted cognac? It’s pretty good—and it really warms you up.

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… a bar and had a small glass of muscatel—still later at his home some vin rouge. We got home after dark and I went up town to the officers club and had a bottle of beer. The beer comes in quart bottles, is good, costs us 10¢ and is purchased by the club for slightly less than 2¢ per quart.

Near the officers club is a theater in this small village, near which we are camped. But the theater is better than in most any American city of the same size. It has red plush seats, red or maroon drapes and a beautiful tile floor. It has a number of tables fixed up in it. The men are permitted to go there each nite and buy their beer. We have a phonograph with lots of American dance music. A radio had been purchased and we were able to listen to the news at 9 P.M.—the 4 P.M. broadcast Eastern war time from N.Y.) The news was all good—so here’s hoping for the best. It is the 2nd American news broadcast since I’ve been over seas and it sure sounded good. The last broadcast I heard on the boat the night we landed.

I wish I could describe this village and other places around here. You have seen pictures of Morocco and that type of architecture. The houses are adobe, tile roofs—rambling court yards with chickens in them—and goats. They are very picturesque—and very much Arabian—but I do like them very much. There is a considerable …

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… number of wealthy French people who have beautiful places. One such place near us has a tennis court, with lights for night playing and umpires seats which is more beautiful than any court I have ever seen at home. Around it are beautiful gardens, fish ponds, childrens swings, etc. They have several fine cars jacked up for lack of gas & tires. Inside the homes, they have very fine silver, linens, furniture, beautiful tile work of an Arabian character. On the other hand the Arabs live in filthy squalor. They have little burros which they ride side saddle—and load with baskets of fruit. They all have that headdress which is so familiar in the picture books.

So much for the local picture. I’m still looking forward to getting some news from home. I miss those letters and news of you and the baby an awful lot. My heart hangs heavy when I think of the time which must elapse before I can get home to my loved ones. I love you honey ever so much—

Goodnight.
All my love
Your John

Transcribed exactly as he wrote it in 1942.