N.Y., July 13, 1938
My dear Puppiken, I stopped writing (?) the family letter last night because this morning was the deadline for the Normandie. There will be a German ship tonight, and that’s why I will write you a few lines during my lunch break and respond to your letter dated July 3, if that is possible in that short time. I’m interested to hear when the two letters arrived; please let me know when you are able to. – No, work itself is not
exhausting, but the heat can be hard to bear. I did not want to mention this in my family letter. You know Mom. Too bad you didn’t go to N. Mom would have been so happy. I work from 9:30 to 7:30 and I have an hour for lunch, add 2 hours for the commute, and you’ll have had enough for the day. The business is open until 6. On Tuesdays and Thursdays until 8:45. On those days, I have to work until 10 or sometimes until 11. Those days are long. At home, we speak a mix of German and English. Of course, I have learned some new things,
but I am far from being fluent. It’s not so easy. My clothes are alright. Mrs. Kern darns socks. You need not worry, Puppiken, that you will find everything destroyed. I still have some toothpaste, but it’s nearly empty. I can pay for your insurances here. Ask at the currency exchange office if it is allowed so that you avoid trouble. Your English is very nice, keep practicing it. It doesn’t matter if you make a few mistakes. I have to close now,
or the letter will not make it. At 5, I will walk on the street to another part of the business. If I cannot drop the letter in the mailbox then, I will not have another opportunity.
Much love and kisses Your Fritz
