Herman Morrison
4 Yorktown Lane
Lancaster, PA 67981

[right]PVT Lewis Morrison
A Co. 37th Tank Battalion
APO PA 79062

10 July 1944[/right]

[i]Dear Father and Mother,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

We are going to France soon—I cannot say when. Safe to say, my kit is all complete and I have eaten already. Do not worry, I am surrounded by good men and working equipment. I do not expect we will run into anything dangerous just yet.

I know the both of you do not want me here. You want me home, back on the farm, where the only dangerous things are the sharp ends of the hoes in the shed. Papa, I know you do not want me holding a gun. It was because the last time you held a gun, back in 1917, you lost your leg. But I will not lose any of my limbs here, Papa. I will keep my eyes peeled, my noggin sharp, and my fellow soldiers always at my side. Do not worry about me. Wherever I am, and whatever I am doing, I am serving the country.

Mama, do not worry about me. The food is good here. A few hours ago, we ate fried eggs and french fries in the pub with all of the other soldiers. I have already made friends with my assistant mortarman. His name is Andy Holling, and we met during basic training. I think you remember him—in one of my previous letters I mentioned how he could guzzle an entire half chicken in one go in the company mess. Either way, we have promised to stick together, thick or thin.

How is the farm doing? The summer harvest is about to roll in. Is little Benny going to school? For his sake, I hope he does. He loves reading. Maybe I will bring back some books from France. Someday, he is going to go to college and earn thousands in an office job.

How are the Phillies? They will bounce back this year, I know it. How is the old man Baker doing? I can still remember his booming, rumbling laugh as he drives down the dirt lane, peddling candy and ice cream. He will live a long time.

I have nothing but love for all of you. Send Grandpapa my regards.

Your loving son,

Louie[/i]