Dec. 26, 1954. From Airman Charles to June. Letter 10 of 10 in collection.

It’s a love story suspended in time, waiting for its final chapter. Charles is staying at the Hilton in Madrid, writing to June. It’s a letter full of quiet, vivid details: a washbasin the size of a bathtub, a doll too delicate to play with, a quiet Christmas spent window-shopping and thinking only of her. In the middle of war and distance, love becomes both ordinary and extraordinary.

This is the 10th and final letter we have from Charles. And of course, we’re left wondering: did he come home? Did their story turn into something messy and wonderful and real? Did baby Dawn grow up with a sibling?

We can only wonder and hope.

26 Dec 1954

Dearest June,

Hello, Angel, How’s my baby tonight? I love you and miss you so very much.

Well, I made it back from the trip safe and sound, but more broke. I spent 45 dollars, but I’ll get about 22 back because of the per diem pay. I enjoyed the trip quite a bit and I know it was a lot better than sitting around this hut all day. The boys here said it was miserable. I took the stationery with me, but I didn’t write the night or Sat. I intended to, honey, but I just couldn’t get in the mood for it

We got off the ground about 9AM and got there at noon.  I went as the copilot, there being an instructor and pilot aboard too.  We took about 20 guys along as passengers.  The three of us got a room a piece at the Hotel Hilton – the finest in Madrid.  That’s the place all the diplomats, movie stars, etc. hang out.  We got special rates though, so it didn’t cost us too much the Airmen went to a cheaper hotel.

The Hilton was really something – my room was almost a suite.  The wash basin was as big as a bathtub.  I went out that afternoon just looking around and to see what I could buy in the way of souvenirs.  Nearly all the stores were closed, so the pickins were slim.  I bought Dawn a doll for $1.60.  I guess it would cost five at home.  I bought it only for a souvenir, so put it up and don’t let her play with it.  I got you a Damiano spoon – real cute – and I got a knife.  I’ll send it all home to you as soon as I can.  The people are reserved and quiet and conservative.  The are not like Mexicans in any way.  In fact, the look just like Americans.  The main part of Madrid looks like Times Square at night.  The only trouble is I can’t speak Spanish, although I can do a lot better now than I could before.   Everything in town was closed Christmas Eve, so we stayed in the hotel and got up around noon Christmas.  By the way, happy birthday, Babydoll.  Did you have a cake or anything?  I hope you had a nice time.  All day we went window shopping.  It’s a good thing all the stores were closed because otherwise I would have come home flat broke.  There are so many pretty things to buy and it is all so cheap.  A complete tux costs $25 – $35, good material and tailor made too.  We got up around ten Sunday morning and caught the bus back to the plane at two.  It took 3 hours to get back.  I went over to the club when I got home and ate and then wen to the movie – Houdini.

I don’t even have to go to work at all this week if I don’t want to but I’m going down part of the time just to keep track of things.  I suppose next Monday I’ll start inventorying the account.  Maybe I’ll get some letters from you this week.

There was another bomb thrown in Rabat this weekend and I hear a nurse was killed.  Things may be such as to where we won’t want you to be coming over here at all, Honey.  Although the hotels are never bothered.  Do you still love me and do you miss me?  I’ve lost some weight already.  Maybe by the time you get here, I’ll be your Babydoll again.

On the trip I saw Spanish Morocco, Tangiers, and part of Gibraltar. Most of the latter was clouded over.  The plane passed over Seville too.  I could go to Rome next week if I had any money.

How’s Dawn?  I miss both of you very much.  I love you.

All my love, 

Charles 

P.S. I love you.