V-Mail
Wednesday, July 28, 1943
My Darling Wife
It's now really the 29th. It's 12:30 A.M. and I'm on duty for two hours without a heck of a lot to do. We have been going at it heavy for the past few days and just finished giving the enemy a nice 28 mile kick in the pants. — and got another load of them damn Italians.
That news about Benito was good — but the Italians still shot just as straight and threw quite a bit of lead. We are all tired tonight. The soldiers feet are sore and bloody from their walking — but forward they go. These men of ours deserve more credit than anyone will ever give them for what they are putting out.
Two weeks ago we finished knocking the enemy out of the Gela area. He was slightly confused — and had suffered heavier than he could afford. We took a toll of almost 20% of his tanks — in our regiment's area alone. Parachutists had raised hell with them in the rear — while we kept pushing from the front. They left a lot of equipment behind. The famous Hermann Goering Division was a [befuddled?] outfit when it pulled stakes. [Now?] they tell me that it is what is holding up all the British. There is only one conclusion to come to but I can't knock our allies.
[I've got my?] first dose of athletes foot — but I'll try & get rid of it soon. I'm O.K. — a little worn weary — and wanting only to get home to my family. I love you both and hope you are both O.K.
all my love
Your John
READING CLOSELY
“Now really the 29th.” Written just after midnight on a two-hour night shift.
Hermann Goering Division. The German armored division that attacked the beaches at Gela.
The envelope. Postmarked San Francisco, August 12, 1943.
Where he was. He mentions the paratroopers behind enemy lines, but never the villa, the wine or the truce. In the letters found so far, John never told that story at home.