October 21, 1943





Dearest Marie and Patsy,





Received letter with proofs of Patsy dated the 27th of sept and a letter dated the 26th of Sept. and a V mail dated October 9th yesterday. Today I received a V mail dated October 11. Must be you skipped Sunday. I skipped yesterday on the letter deal because I went to town but I made up for it by shipping a large package of gifts to you. Don't know how you will like them but I hope they appeal to you. But I will tell you about them in the course of this letter.


We arrived in town about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and after having a bite to eat in the officer's club, I left the rest of the officers and went to visit the Cathedral of Joan of Arc. You know, or course, that Joan of Arc is the patron Saint of France. As one approaches the cathedral they will see the large goden statue of the saint perched upon a golden horse. She is clothed in armor and has a shield and lance. This statue is situated in a small park which is located directly in front of the cathedral proper. The cathedral towers high above the park--49 steps up by actual count. The front of the building itself is in the form of a great arch which is decorated by pictures of the Blessed Trinity on the very top and angels on each side along the sides of the arch. All these representations are done in colored tile work and contrast beautifully against the sand color of the building itself. A beautiful iron fence, with gates for entrance to each of the five doors, contrasts against the pastel colors of the arch and light brown doors.


As one enters the church, the eye is met with a large stone altar which is fenced off from the resst of the church and is raised up from the floor by about two feet. Instead of the kneeling benches and seats, there are straight back chairs and a few kneelers in fromt. As you approach the altar, the rich upolhstering of the chairs within the sanctuary are visible and the red plush stands out brilliantly. Hand carved furniture is much in evidence. The floor is covered by a beautiful oriental rug of a multicolored patern (similar to the rug I am sending you). Oddly enough several little boys, obviously altar boys, dressed in red cassocks and white surplus and set off by a red cardinal's hat, were whispering and talking near the front of the church. In rear of the altar was a beautiful grotto and altar set within that grotto, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin. Flowers of all kinds were there in decoration. Numerous marble thanksgivings were hung on the wall around the structure with the words "Merci, Marie" (thank you Mary) or "Remembrance Mary".

I left the church after about forty minutes of looking and praying and walked out into the crowded and busy streets. An old Arab in his flowing white garments looked apprehensively at me and an ancient streetcar clattered by. Army vechiles roared passed and on the corner a French policemnan whistled at the traffic like our cops at home.

As I walked down the crowded streets window shopping I stopped occasionally and looked into a window here and there.
Finally I found a French jewlery store and, of course, you kow that I can't resist that kind of a store. On going in, I foundthat the jewlery was all in the window and they had may interesting ink drawings, oils and watercolors. after much deliberation i purchased the view of the old fort in the city as you will see when you get the package. then I asked for a silver braclet that I saw in the window. It is a beautiful piece of hand worked silver. Pure sterling hammered into the design by native craftsmaen.

After all that shopping I again returned to the officer's club, had a bite to eat and again met the rest of the officers. After a short time we attended a show put on by a group of army boys entitled "10 minute Break". It was a musical comedy and was very amusing.

Well, honey, it is hard to even attempt to give you a hundred percent description of these things, but I am sure you will at least have some idea of them. This all would be so much more enjoyable if we were seeing it together and the world was not at war. but when this wr ends, I will be happy just to stay with you and love you dearly. I still miss you terribly and hope you miss me. Don't worry and don't dye your hair.
Closing now with loads of love and kisses.

Your loving husband John

This letter contains an interesting piece of history! World War II made ordinary living and getting essentials very difficult for alot of people.




Dearest Marie and Patsy,



Skipped one letter yesterday becuase I went to town in the afternoon. Bought a leather wallet and another leather piece which I will mail home to you as soon as possible. Prices in town are exceedingly high and the stores are absolutely bare. Simple little items cost a fortune here and a good number of them are seconds imported from the U.S.


You will be interested in a shopping tour through one of their ten cent stores. Typical of such stores they sold everything from clothing to hardware but actually the goods was poor and the shelves were almost emptly. A few bottles of bluing, a shelf of native pottery, a counter with various sized buttons loose in glass dividers, no candy counter (impossible to get here), no crowds or any reson for them to come. What a business old Woolworth could do here with his stores. About the time we had looked about the store and were on the way out, a bell sounded and all the girls who worked behind the counters hastened to cover the counters and rush out while a bouncer at the door saw that everyone left the store quickly. All the stores on closing have heavy metal shields which pull down to protect the windows from thieves.

Got my ration of candy for one week today. One package of life savers, one package of assorted wafers, 2 packages of gum. Of course that is plenty for me but not for a candy lover.

Recieved your letter of the 2nd of September and could almost taste the good food that the Scots put out. Sure made me hungry. This dehydrated food is nothing like that.

By the way do all you can for the American Red Cross. They are 100%. They run a snack bar over here with food, coffee, lemonade, fresh bakery, etc. They pass out bags of miscellaneous items such as books, gum, sewing kits etc. they have treated all of us 100%. Showers are available at the Red Cross, movies and a place to read or write, etc.

Miss you all (Patsy and Marie) very very much. Hope you will forgive me for not writing yesterday.
Your loving husband,

John

I love you my sweetheart and only hope for the day when I can be with you again. Pray hard that that day will be soon.

Dedication

Talk about dedication! Writing a letter at night in a tent while holding a flashlight to see what you're doing takes just that! No wonder this letter is short (But the ending thoughts are beautiful )!

September 26, 1943

Dearest Marie and Patsy,


Just a short note to let you know that I am thinking of you. Today I had a detail so I am writing this by flashlight. Very difficult trying to hold the light in one hand and write with the other. but don't want you to be without a letter.

Went to mass and communion today (Sunday) and offered up the mass for you and Patsy, for your intentions and for myself. Incidentally the masses here are offered for us and it is the same as if we had mass said in any church at home. They are all offered for you and Patsy.

The priest in his sermon gave us one wonderful thougtht based on a Prayer written by Joyce Kilmer. The poem speaks about how heavy the pack is on his back ( he was a sodier in the last war ) so much lighter (than ) the Cross upon His back. His feet are sore from walking, and he meditates on the pierced feet of Christ. Men cuss him and call him vile names and he meditates on the blasphemy offered Christ on the Cross. Then the priest said to us :Do good now and live a Catholic life for it would be too bad if we would carry the Cross and not receive the reward. Good night my loved ones. God bless you.

John

Missed not having a letter today. Write soon!

John J. Donahue 0-383566

Hg. 985th FAB APO 4774

Postmaster New York, NY

August--1943 (date was cut out )



Dearest Marie--Again I must report to you the (way) uncle Sam treats his fighting men 100% before they leave. I have hotel service, wonderful quarters and the best food I have ever eaten in my life. Hope I don't get seasick and spoil the fun of all these things. Best of all the weather is actually chilly but that is probalbly because we were conditioned in the south. I bet you are quite chilly too after weltering in hot stuffy Muskogee.


Would like to hear about your trip home and how the folks feel. Bet they all felt too sorry for us. Of course, you and I can be very, very happy for the good times we have been able to sneak out of our married life so far and most especially for those six days leave.

Another thing that interests me very much is that lettle question mark. Are you sure that you are pregnant or are you just guessing. I sure hope we were successful and I'll tell you right now if it is a boy its gotta be a junior eh what? Gosh I'll be glad to get home again to see you Patsy and Junior(?)
I don't know when you will receive this letter, But let me emphasize again not to worry. My mind is free and I am happy. I am at peace with God and the world and intend to stay that way. Nothing very serious can happen to me because I trust and have faith in the protection of the Lord. I am wearing a scapular medal, carrying medals in my pocket, along with a rosary and a minature soldiers missal. That should be sufficient. Will close now.
Your loving husband
John

Duckling and Steak

This undated note was written shipboard on the way to North Africa, very likely in mid-August 1943.

Dearest Marie,

You will find a copy of the ship’s menu on the rear. This is the way we have eaten all the way. Sure is swell. And the best part of it is that through some quirk of regulations officers do not pay a cent for their meals. Better yet if I can get another menu I will send it along. Notice there are only two sittings a day. Couldn’t stand any more I am sure.

Love,
John

On the reverse of the second menu was the following note:
Had both duckling and steak at this meal. John

Goodbye Marie

August 8, 1943

Dearest Marie,

This may be the last letter that I may be able to write for some time. If it is do not worry. I do not know now what will happen. But remember that I love you and keep writing. The letters will get to me somehow and even if they are old they will read good. Remember do not put anything military in any letter unless you can cover it up. I will read between the lines. Would like to know what arrangements you have made about going home. How does the apartment work out? Did the girls sell their trailers? How is Patsy etc.

Didn’t receive a letter from you since I got back. Remember to give Patsy a big hug and kiss from her daddy and pray that he won’t be gone too long.

Everything is quiet here. My promotion is definitely out and I am now listed as assistant sergeant.

Well honey I haven’t much more to say for now. Remember how I miss your love and kisses and companionship. Best wife in the world—that’s you.

Please tell me your plan on going home. In the meantime much love to you and Patsy.

Your loving husband,
John

North Africa: 'Dangerous Beauty'

Here is a letter written just nine days before the Invasion of Salerno, Italy.

Sept. 7, 1943

Dearest Marie,

In the previous letter I described to you in general terms the type of people who are natives in this part of the world. In this letter I will try to picture for you the life in a nearby town and other interesting facts that I have learned since I wrote the last letter.

Picture if you can an old but well-built city with large buildings and almost modern architecture—the architecture of the Moslems. Here and there throughout the town are countless sidewalk cafes and wine gardens. Antiquated French street cars rattle along on the left side of the road dragging along behind an open car crowded to overflowing with a mixed group of people. Everywhere one hears the babble of mixed French, Algerian, Morroccan, Spanish, English languages. Odd smells issue from every corner—some of them reminding you of stale wine and others of rotten food and fermenting grapes, all mixed with the smell of salt water. Put yourself in that type of town in the next few paragraphs of this letter.

We were driven to town in an army vehicle through a countryside covered with grapevines and bountiful with fruit. Here and there, we avoided collision with lumbering Arab carts, some drawn by burros, and others by scrawny, ill-fed horses or mules. On each side of the road small shade trees beautify the road. Small Arab children dressed in rags shout and yell “Me want cigarette.” while holding their fingers in the form of a V for victory.

Finally you can see the skyline of the city ahead. Here and there a building towers above the rest but all of them are built of a pink or white clay or brick; and on reaching the city limits the stench and smell of the slums hit one square in the face.

In our troop we drove to the American officers club where we had a bite to eat. One must be very careful not to eat or drink of the native food for very obvious reasons. After that we walked down the streets just to observe. Native women wrapped in white with one eye showing walk quickly along taking care not to disclose their faces. Now and then one of them will show her face—most times very ugly but often pretty but always tattooed on the forehead, cheeks and chin.

French Jews operate stores much like our Jews on Wells Street at home. Soldiers of all nationalities and every conceivable uniform pass along the streets. Finally we got tired of walking and sat down in a sidewalk café of a very good hotel.

A sidewalk café is a marvelous place since you can sit and watch the crowds go by. I know that you would enjoy that very much. So we ordered our drinks (I took beer because I couldn’t tell the waiter what I wanted) and then sat and watched the crowds go by. Like all port towns, but especially a war port town, this one has the scum of the earth. French foreign legion soldiers, Free french, English, American soldiers and sailors pass by in an unending parade. Here and there a beautiful french woman passes by leading a french dog and exquisitely dressed in modern American clothes; and walking beside her a native woman dressed in white. Then you will see a native Arab man with pants whose crotch almost drags on the ground. The story behind the pants with the drooping crotch is as follows:

The natives believe that Mohamed will be incarnated again and will be born of a male. Consequently they wear their pants like that so they can catch him before he hits the ground.

As we sat there a native acrobat performer put on an act for us. Actually he was a contortionist. A crowd of people gathered about to watch. Beggars by the hundreds, young and old, passed by with hands held out. Meantime a blind man passes selling postcards which we cannot send. On the corner a native fortuneteller with sand and a stick plys his morbid trade. Honey what an interesting and picturesque town. Vino, vino plenty vino. But don’t drink it. Dangerous beauty, ugliness, sordidness, filth, quaintness and everything disgusting is present here. Will tell you more in my next letter.

John