Gebele had received another letter via “our sweet female post lady” and by return sent Sabine a letter as well as clothes and a manicure set.
She had finally told Gebele some more details about her brothers. He looked forward to meeting them and was convinced they would get on well. “I especially feel some affinity with your youngest brother, although I don’t know him. I imagine that I shall find in him a really good friend and brother-in-law.” He wanted to know if they had hobbies other than sailing. “Do they like cars or play tennis?” Sabine would have to teach him sailing because “the Dutch are such water rats” and he didn’t want to be inferior to them. But regarding other sports, such as gymnastics or parachuting, he was better than the average military man.
Sabine had started to write her life story for him, but had destroyed it. Gebele did not understand why. “If I had had the time you would definitely have had my life story in the form of a manuscript or even a short novel and you would then be able to gaze openly and without fearful trembling into my innermost soul and see what an evil human being I am.”
He thought she might recoil at this, but then fall in love with him again. “Don’t say I did not warn you. I am indeed a dreadful person and a thief, who has stolen your heart. Unfortunately my photo albums were destroyed by a bombardment, which is a shame because there were some nice photos of Scheveningen and Rotterdam in them.”
Sabine was meanwhile worried about the ever shrinking bread rations for the prisoners. Gebele was too, but told her not to forget that “your big boy has enough reserves and access to further food reserves.” He realized that Sabine was no doubt more worried for her friends and particularly for Hetty and Steijns, although Gebele thought she should stay happy and healthy and not worry about others, just himself. “I am very selfish, right?”
He was vague about the latest news from the Front. “Concerning news of our friends, I can only tell you that it is very positive, but there are no further details as there is an embargo throughout Germany regarding the war news. But I will talk to you about it in person.”
Finally, at quarter past ten in the evening, he concluded this letter, which was one of the last ones she received from him:
I have to stop now in the hope and expectation that my angel will keep sending me her post daily via our courier and, if possible, also the dirty washing, which I will await with longing.
I also found a very short note with the letters that seemed to belong to this letter. A sort of cry of desperation:
Sabine! Please write to me. I am now writing to you.
Franz