Читать книгу We Were Young and at War: The first-hand story of young lives lived and lost in World War Two - Sarah Wallis - Страница 34

Dear family,

I just wanted to write a quick note, to let you know I’m still alive. What with eating, drinking, sleeping and **** [self censorship] duties there’s hardly any time for writing. The day before yesterday our whole division advanced by 90km. The retreating troops can’t get away from our front-line troops. Prisoners stream in the other direction, all different and jumbled up: French, Belgians, Negroes, Indians, Chinese, etc. They look so terribly dejected. In most of the towns there are only a few houses still standing, the rest shot to bits and burnt down…

…The way we live needs to be described. All the villages have been cleared, so all the houses are at our disposal. We ended up in an outwardly unremarkable house, which is quite magic inside. Ten of us have moved in, we each have a bed; there are two in each room. And we have everything we need. There’s a lovely kitchen with beautiful crockery and an unbelievable stock of food. The cellar is full of wine and champagne. The cupboards are full of valuable things. It is such a shame we can’t take anything with us. There’s a piano here too and we’ve been playing and singing…We are living like ‘Gods in France’. When

Herbert’s letter, 6 June 1940.

you see a scene like this you can truly say: our greatest victory so far is that the war has not been fought in our own country…Please send me a map of France, Belgium and Southern England…

Send my greetings to everyone, with a Heil Hitler!

Your Herbert