Ted and friend outside Luxembourg Seminary
Feb. 18th / 45
Dearest Helen,
Today has been an utterly dull day – in spite of a pass to town – a dreary, depressing place framed by a wet, gray day. In lieu of wandering about in the rain, we stopped at the first café we encountered. A small place situated opposite a bridge which had been blown up and repaired hurriedly, it seemed – for it looked more like a roller coaster. As we entered the café I was mildly surprised to observe a motorcycle in the center of the room and the proprietor tinkering with its entrails scattered about the floor. In one corner, a young fellow who proved to be the proprietors’ son was given accordion lessons. By the time we’d had one short glass of beer we decided that the grunts and groans emanating from instruments of the pupils were too much for us. So – we meandered about stopping at a couple of other bistros – always followed by a group of ragged, vociferous kids. At one point, three little girls stopped us, drew in deep breaths and broke into of all things – “Pistol Packin’ Mamma” – in perfect (?) English. When they had finished they thrust out their heads and screamed “Chewing Gum.”
Though our passes were good until 10 P.M., we were back at 3 o’clock, where I found your V-mail of Feb 1st waiting for me –
All my love,
Ted
Dearest Helen,
Today has been an utterly dull day – in spite of a pass to town – a dreary, depressing place framed by a wet, gray day. In lieu of wandering about in the rain, we stopped at the first café we encountered. A small place situated opposite a bridge which had been blown up and repaired hurriedly, it seemed – for it looked more like a roller coaster. As we entered the café I was mildly surprised to observe a motorcycle in the center of the room and the proprietor tinkering with its entrails scattered about the floor. In one corner, a young fellow who proved to be the proprietors’ son was given accordion lessons. By the time we’d had one short glass of beer we decided that the grunts and groans emanating from instruments of the pupils were too much for us. So – we meandered about stopping at a couple of other bistros – always followed by a group of ragged, vociferous kids. At one point, three little girls stopped us, drew in deep breaths and broke into of all things – “Pistol Packin’ Mamma” – in perfect (?) English. When they had finished they thrust out their heads and screamed “Chewing Gum.”
Though our passes were good until 10 P.M., we were back at 3 o’clock, where I found your V-mail of Feb 1st waiting for me –
All my love,
Ted
