Lucy by Ellen Feldman

Author:Ellen Feldman [Feldman, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2004-01-16T22:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

“Yes, of course, everything is naturally ‘off the record’—It never occurred to me that needed to be said.”

Lucy Mercer in a letter to Margaret Suckley,

FDR’s distant cousin, December 11, 1944

U.S.S. Dyer July 11th

Dearest Lucy,

The weather has turned filthy. Moving about is difficult, and the rule is one hand for the ship at all times. Several officers are ill, and there has been much feeding of the fishes, but I have not missed a meal. I roam the ship in my “destroyer costume” of khaki riding trousers, golf stockings, flannel shirt, and leather coat. Very warm and comfy. Having a grand time, though I find myself questioning my long-held conviction that women do not belong aboard ship. I miss you desperately.

All my love,

Franklin

Washington

July 11th

Dearest Franklin,

The heat wave continues. Yesterday a girl fainted in the canteen. Perhaps we ought to buy one of those new “refrigerators” that maintain a consistent temperature without the use of ice. The ladies could take turns stepping inside for a moment of cool, though I have little need of it. My heart has been frozen since you sailed. It seems to me all Washington is in mourning for your departure. Auto horns play dirges. Flags fly at half mast. Mr. Wilson has ordered the White House painted black until your return. I feel as if half of me, the best half, is gone.

All my love,

Lucy

U.S.S. Dyer July 13th

Dearest Lucy,

We had a bit of a dust-up yesterday. I was standing on the port wing of the bridge, when a green youngster, not realizing the port gun was trained as far forward as it would go, pulled the lanyard. A four-inch shell went by only a few feet outboard. Though I was sure my next landfall would be St. Peter’s gate, my life did not flash before my eyes, only your face.

All my love,

Franklin

Washington

July 18th

Dearest Franklin,

Last Sunday at the Church of the Covenant Mr. Wood urged the young ladies of the congregation to go to the camps and “make it pleasant” for the boys whether they knew them or not. Apparently the girls followed his suggestion so enthusiastically that now the boys’ mothers are complaining that they don’t want their sons cheered up after all.

Has it been only eleven days since we sat in the auto beneath that old Russian moon? I was a squirrel that night, storing bits and pieces of you away for the long lonely summer. Now I take out the memories slowly. I am determined to make them last.

All my love,

Lucy

Cliveden

July 30th

Dearest Lucy,

Yesterday I came in from Cliveden for an audience with the king. We had forty minutes of conversation à deux, though interviews of this sort are supposed to last only fifteen. He is very open and cordial, and not as short as I expected. His face is stronger than it appears in photographs, and when we got to talking about German atrocities in Belgium, his expression became fierce.

Lunched with my old friend Ned Bell at the St. James Club, then went to the

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