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 if Germany took precedence over us; we, the civilized. »

Beautiful and long war letter as Germany continues its advance.

“My beloved darling, I will never see the end of this day! No letter from you this morning, therefore, two days of silence, and I await tomorrow's mail with anxious impatience. I hung around all day; want to do nothing, not even dream about you for fear of suffering too much. Not that I doubt you, my darling Zou! But trust does not prevent pain. I love you, darling, and cannot do without you. What increases my concern is, beside me, the letters received very regularly by my comrades and which generally take 3 days to reach us. Finally, darling darling, if our love is a source of sorrow when we are separated, it is at the same time a consolation, more than that, a very sweet joy. I adore you, and writing these lines to you puts me back in front of you, takes me away from my sadness. I see you in your beauty, my darling little bride, 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 in you come from: everything you have is full of delight. What a privilege for me, since you give these delights to me. I was forced to celebrate the third 3 of our engagement alone. But your presence in me remains so alive that my solitude is full of you. What a rush to find you again, to hold you in my arms, to love you according to our desire, to cover you with caresses as before, better than before. How eager to possess you, my darling love. I know so much that our happiness will be crazy.

In one of your letters, you told me that after our marriage, we would spend ten days (if, during the war) of delight and madness. Yes, both alone, forgetful of the rest of the world. I remember, with the slightest pleasure, that everything with you was wonderfully intoxicating. My beloved wife, how I understand that we love you, that all the men around you, want you for themselves. And yet, what they desire, they do not know the truth more delicious than their dreams. But I, because of what you gave me, now know my happiness. Just wrap my arms around you, hold you against me for a moment, and there has never been any joy. Pleasure itself, I didn't know what it was before touching your hand, before our first so simple kiss, before our first caresses... and Happiness, even more so. If the war were not here, this month of June would promise to be incomparable. With the sun, the clarity of the sky, the explosion of life contained in each leaf, in each tree, in everything we would know how to compose a decor to suit our tenderness. I think of the lost walks, of the evenings that will not take place now, of the early hours of the night which would be for us the occasion of the sweetest abandonment before the much desired abandonment which will give you to me, and me to you, in a love without limits, incredible. I think of the caresses I gave you, of those even more intoxicating which will unite us since our marriage will eliminate all separation, will reveal to us all the treasures, all the tenderness that lives in each of us. I think of our agreement in everything, of our common desire to use our love for good, to make of our life a beautiful work, intelligent, clear, solid and freed, according to our strength, of the little things that too often arise from a lack of love. . I think of a life that would be made up of a wonderful habit: our love, and an absence of habits: the mimes of love, the daily mediocrities. No doubt we will sometimes suffer them because we are far from being perfect, but we will never be slaves to them: our love will save us from everything that is ugly.

And above all I think that all this is not a dream, that this exaltation of my whole being before you, that this joy of my heart, of my senses, of my spirit before you, my beloved, I have known. That every time we were reunited, I felt that I was better, closer to 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 too bored? You must begin to know well each being, each street, the air of the house and the air of the country! How pretty you must be in these streets that you walk for me, because of me, because we love each other. How are you dressed ? With clothes I know? Your blouse, your skirt, your stockings, your shoes? Do you carry those whom I loved because they were a little of you, who were the companions of our tenderness? Your engagement dress which was also “the dress of our loves”. My beloved love, tell me all this. And your lipstick, your perfume. In the evening, when you have removed your makeup, do you reserve your lips, your soft skin, your caresses for the night? And in the morning, when you get up, do you think I could be there? You in pajamas and a dressing gown and our breakfast is getting cold because we are too busy, too wonderfully busy.

Darling darling (I love this name as well as my adored treasure and my darling love, it was so fun, so moving to call yourself that while laughing. If you jumped into my arms my little girl, so woman, so sure of his power…). I love you. Thanks to you, I feel life clinging to me. The war will undoubtedly have helped me to rediscover the truer sources of my beliefs by forcing me to consider myself thoroughly, to consider destiny. My beloved goddess, my little Zou, you have always remained infinitely close to me. Inscribed within me are these words that you wrote to me: “don’t forget that our love comes before everything, is everything”. And I obeyed (it was no small thing! Above all: before Death and his 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 ardently, in peace, joy, calm, pray for us, that we live our life, that we live it in the clear perception of truth, that we live it in agreement with God. And I marvel at loving you as I felt one had to love to know the deepest joys. My little darling, I love you. Write me long letters but above all tell me that you love me.

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

PS Here I am, Chief Sergeant! A higher level that doesn't change much in my situation. You will see me in a while, adjutant! In any case, there is only one way to contribute to the salvation of France. Sergeant or something else, I will devote myself to it with equal decision. How sad if Germany took precedence 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.