François MITTERRAND – War letter. 1940.

François Mitterrand (1916.1996)

Autograph letter signed to Marie-Louise Terrasse, known as Catherine Langeais.

Six pages in 8°. [Meuse]. June 4, 1940.

" How sad it would be if Germany were to prevail over us; we, the civilized."

A beautiful and lengthy war letter while Germany continues its advance.

"My beloved darling, I'll never see the end of this day! No letter from you this morning, so two days of silence, and I await tomorrow's mail with anxious impatience. I've dragged myself around all day; I don't want to do anything, not even dream of you for fear of suffering too much. Not that I doubt you, my darling Zou! But trust doesn't prevent pain. I love you, darling, and cannot live without you. What increases my anxiety is seeing the letters my comrades receive quite regularly, which generally take three days to reach us. Finally, darling darling, if our love is a source of sorrow when we are apart, it is also a consolation, more than that, a very sweet joy. I adore you, and writing these lines puts me back before you, takes me away from my sadness. I see you in your beauty, my darling little fiancée, with my wonderful desire and my love; I see you, my peach, and everything calms down, everything becomes simple. My darling little wife, where does this power within you come from: everything you possess is full of delight. What a privilege for me, since you bestow these delights upon me. I was forced to celebrate the third 3 of our engagement all alone. But your presence within me remains so vivid that my solitude is filled with you. How I long to see you again, to hold you in my arms, to love you as we both desire, to cover you with caresses as before, even more so than before. How I long to possess you, my darling love. I know so well that our happiness will be boundless.

In one of your letters, you told me that after our wedding, we would spend ten days (yes, during the war) of bliss and madness. Yes, just the two of us, alone, oblivious to the rest of the world. I remember, in every moment of pleasure, that everything with you was wonderfully intoxicating. My beloved wife, how I understand why you are loved, why all men surround you, want you for themselves. And yet, what they desire, they don't know the truth, more exquisite than their dreams. But I, because of what you have given me, now know my happiness. Simply to encircle you in my arms, to hold you close for a moment, and no joy has ever existed. Pleasure itself, I didn't know what it was before touching your hand, before our first, simple kiss, before our first caresses… and Happiness, even more so. If the war weren't here, this June would be incomparable. With the sun, the clarity of the sky, the explosion of life contained in every leaf, in every tree, in everything, we would know how to compose a setting worthy of our tenderness. I think of walks lost, of evenings that will not now take place, of the first hours of the night that would be for us the occasion of the sweetest surrenders before the longed-for surrender that will give you to me, and I to you, in a boundless, unbelievable love. I think of the caresses I have given you, of those even more intoxicating that will unite us since our marriage will eliminate all separation, reveal to us all the treasures, all the tenderness that lives in each of us. I think of our agreement in everything, of our shared will to use our love for good, to make our life a beautiful work, intelligent, clear, solid, and free, as far as we are able, from the pettiness that too often arises from a lack of love. I dream of a life made up of one wonderful habit: our love, and an absence of habits: the mimicry of love, the everyday mediocrities. No doubt we will sometimes suffer them because we are far from perfect, but we will never be enslaved by them: our love will save us from all that is ugly.

And above all, I believe that all of this is not a dream, that this exaltation of my entire being before you, this joy of my heart, my senses, my mind before you, my beloved, I have known them. That each time we have been together, I have felt that I was better, closer to the truth, to beauty.

My darling little Marizouchou, I adore you. What are you doing in Jarnac? How do you fill your days? Aren't you getting too bored? You must be getting to know everyone, every street, the air of the house and the air of the countryside so well! How beautiful you must be in these streets you walk for me, because of me, because we love each other. What are you wearing? Clothes I recognize? Your blouse, your skirt, your stockings, your shoes? Are you wearing the ones I loved because they were a little bit of you, the ones that were the companions of our tenderness? Your engagement dress, which was also "the dress of our love." My beloved, tell me all about it. And your lipstick, your perfume. In the evening, when you've removed your makeup, do you save your lips, your soft skin, your caresses for me for the night? And in the morning, when you wake up, do you think I might be there? You in your pajamas and bathrobe and our breakfast is getting cold because we're too busy, too wonderfully busy.

My darling (I love this name, as well as "my beloved treasure" and "my cherished love"—it was so fun, so moving to call each other that while laughing. If you were to rush into my arms, my tiny little girl, so womanly, so sure of your power…). I love you. Thanks to you, I feel life clinging to me. The war will undoubtedly have helped me rediscover the truer sources of my beliefs by forcing me to look at myself deeply, to consider destiny. My beloved goddess, my little Zou, you have always remained infinitely close to me. Inscribed within me are those words you wrote to me: "Don't forget that our love comes before everything, is everything." And I obeyed (it was no small thing! Before everything: before Death and its presence). My darling ray of sunshine, if later you fulfill your role as well, I will be the happiest man in the world. But pray fervently, in peace, joy, and calm, pray for us, that we may live our lives, that we may live them with a clear perception of truth, that we may live them in accordance with God. And I marvel at loving you as I felt one must love to know the deepest joys. My darling, I love you. Write me long letters, but above all, tell me that you love me.

I adore you. I give you my sweetest kisses, my darling peach, and I take your mouth, my kingdom, with the tenderness you know. François

PS Here I am, Sergeant Major! A higher rank, but it doesn't change much about my situation. You'll see me as a warrant officer in a little while! In any case, there's only one way to contribute to the salvation of France. Sergeant or something else, I'll dedicate myself to it with equal determination. How sad it would be if Germany were to gain the upper hand over us; we, the civilized. F.

Catherine Langeais (1923.1998), whose real name is Marie-Louise Terrasse, met François Mitterrand on January 28, 1938, during the École Normale Supérieure ball, with whom, although only 15 years old, she became engaged. Mitterrand wrote more than 300 letters to the woman he nicknamed Zou.