This is a letter to my mil from her first husband. It was the last letter he wrote to her before he was shot down over Germany and perished. He was shot down flying his 8th mission. He was required to fly 50 missions before he could return home to his pregnant bride. She was 18. He was 20.
Love just oozes from his words. Young love. The kind of love that is so intense, it hurts. No email. No text messages. No tweets. No fb. Just handwritten letters. The kind that take time to write. The kind you can hold in your hand. This is romance. Clark Gable. Betty Davis. Frank Sinatra. This is why my parent's generation is called The Greatest Generation. I know I can't live up to it.
"Gee I love you sweetheart. - Give anything to be with you - but that will have to wait. I guess I'm always thinking about you - I still brag about having the best gal in the States. (what's out of the States isn't even in the running!)"
I've got more of these letters. Who knows. Maybe it's worth writing a book. I know there are relatives thinking about it. But, do they have the initiative? Enjoy.