Saturday, December 1, 2012

Last Letters From Stalingrad: #22

...Dearest, I think of you all the time. Today, standing in the chow line, I thought of you again. Of the wonderful food you used to cook. My socks are in shreds, too, and I can't get rid of my cough any more.  No pills are available for it. You could send me cough syrup, but don't use any glass bottles. Have you caught a cold too? Always put on something good and warm.  Do you have enough coal? Just go and see A__, he got lumber from me for his furniture. Let him give you coal for it now. I hope Uncle Paul has nailed the weatherstripping to your windows; otherwise it will be too late for it this year.  I did not celebrate Christmas here.  I was on the road with the car, and we got stuck in the snow because we went the wrong way. But we soon get out again. I have decided that next year we will celebrate a real Christmas, and I am going to give you a beautiful present.
It is not my fault that I can't give it to you now. The Russians are all around us, and we won't get out again until Hitler gets us out. But you must not tell that to anyone. It is supposed to be a surprise.
A key to understanding this ongoing series is here, and here. Each letter (39 in all) was written by a different and anonymous German soldier who knew he was going to die. I associate these letters with Christmastime for reasons explained at the links.


  1. Mottos are fungible. You no like?

  2. No, no. Like it a lot.

    Just wondering whether the use of "pelo de figa" started here or there.

  3. It's just a figment of your imagination, Chip.