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The East, September 9th, 41
My Dear Ones,
After a long delay, I am finally able to write you again. It will be a long time before you receive this letter, so I will write more often.
It was a joyful trip from Wednesday to Sunday. To me it felt like a holiday, the trip went like a fever chart, from the capital to the cornfields of Prussia, from there up once more to the capital of Litauen and then southeast, to the capital of White Russia, which is now German territory. A beautiful environment, in the middle of woods in a former tank camp. But the roads over here - well I can't describe them, but the field paths back home are made of gold by comparison. I saw one good road, and drove on it for a while, a motorway, the only one in the Soviet Union from Minsk to Moscow. And then the Russian economy - I have had a peek into a few of the houses. I can only say, I would feel better in one of our chicken coops.
Up to now it is a good-natured group here, three of us sleep together in one room. We have closets and a bed, a furnace, even electric lights. And, lastly, I want to congratulate father on his birthday. I couldn't do it before, because it was not decided yet if we could keep our old field post numbers.
And now for today, best wishes from Karl
Warm greetings to little Hans