WW2 Era Letter Written by U.S. Soldier in Tunisia. He writes about having dinner with the Prince of Tunis. Lots of interesting historical content.

[Heartfeltzero]

This letter was written by what looks to be a Lawrence Cunningham. I can’t say with certainty as the top of the envelope is missing. I don’t have any additional information on the author of the letter but the letter itself is quite the interesting read.

“ Wednesday Night
Sept. 8 1943

Dear Folks,

It is now just mid-night but I have a story for you tonight and it must be told before I forget a single thing. There is no news, but this story I think will be the most interesting I have ever told. Before I even start, I think that I should tell you how this all came to happen. You see we are living in the summer palace of the Bey of Tunis and a few days ago the man servant of the prince (the Bey is almost a prisoner in Algeria you know during this war) asked me to come up for supper sometime. He had been down a few times before and I gave him some playing cards, gum, cigarettes and etc. Tonight he came down and said the supper was set for this evening and asked me to bring a friend who spoke French so our conversation could be complete, (my French is a bit shaky you know). One of my cooks speaks French fluently so I asked him to go and he of course accepted (who could refuse an invitation like that?). Now to go on to the story after this short introduction.

We were led into the palace grounds by our escort, past the guard into a beautiful garden. Palm trees, orange trees, ferns, flowers ( which I cannot tell you the name) and a large pond where there were the largest gold fish I have ever seen in my life. Each flower bed was in a different design separated by little cement walls about 4 inches high and decorated with all kinds of sea shells. It must have taken years just to build these alone. The flowers were not very numerous because this is the dry season but what there were was certainly beautiful. We sat down in a beautiful lounge and waited for the evening gun. As I told you in my last letter, this is the month for fasting in the Arab religion and no one eats until the sun-set gun is fired as a signal that the day is done and that evening, the time for feasting is at hand. After the signal, we were escorted into a small room in one corner of the palace. There, the table was set with the most modern dishes I have seen in many months. Before each place were piled at least 8 or 10 dishes. It was there that we met the Prince for the first time.

He is a very young man, I should say about 18 or 19 years of age. After certain formalities, we were seated as follows, at the head of the table sat the prince and his body guard, at the foot, myself. On my right was my guest and on my left, a French army colonel. The French officer was an honorary member of the Beys guard before the war and still stays near the prince. The story about the supper is going to knock some of the stories you hear about the Arabs into a coched hat. The servants consisted of one Arab girl not veiled and several black boys who waited on table and also waved those large black fans to keep the flies away. It was exactly as you see in the movies. So much for the setting of the dinner although I must say this before we go further, the Arabs do not just use their right hand for eating, they use both hands just as you and I. The dinner itself was one of the most delicious meals I have ever eaten and I shall describe each course and how I think it was made.

The first course consisted of what the Arabs call breek, that’s not how you spell it but I shall write all the names as how they are pronounced. Breek is tri-covered French pastry of which the filling is made of fried egg and some sort of dressing. It’s delicious to say the least and is almost a meal in itself.

The second course consisted of chicken soup to which kooo-kooo and barly had been added. This also was very delicious. (Just remember that each one of these courses that
I am telling you about right now is served in a separate dish which is piled in front of you before the dinner).

The third course was lamb (and this time I ate it) It was prepared something like how the Russians prepare Schoslich only instead of using tomatoes, a bread dressing is used and it is broiled over an open spit. It is very highly seasoned but very tender and sweet.

Our fourth course was the good old favourite of many, roast chicken with dressing and hard boiled eggs and French fried potatoes used as a garnish. It was as brown as a not and so tender you could really pick the meat off with your fork. Of course it was roasted in oil but it must have been a very high grade of oil because the taste was perfect, not that oily taste you usually have. The sliced eggs and French fries were just used as decorations.

The fifth course was the most unusual I have ever seen or tasted. It consisted of an olive salad of which peppers, onions, garlic and a few other vegetables had been added and looked something like our pepper relish. I enjoyed mine very much although no one else seemed to care for it.

The sixth course was the country’s favourite and should I have to tell you, it was kooo-kooo. It was the most beautiful dish on the table, about as large as your head and trimmed with cold sliced chicken, peppers, eggs, olives, and citron. The kooo-kooo itself is seasoned with a very hot sauce but because I like hot peppers, sauce and ect. I enjoyed it very much.

Our seventh course was certainly something new and different. In arabic it is pronounced like this, Ou vache and looks something like chopped spinach rolled into little balls. The vegetable was strange to me but the meat sauce and ground meat over it was delicious.

The last course was an Arabic dessert called Ma-hed-ach and looks something like our apple Brown Betty. It is made with some kind of an arab cookie to which is added a white sauce. The flavor is almost impossible to describe although after I had eaten all this dinner I still accepted seconds. I guess that tells its own story dosent it? I might say though that never before have I ever eaten such a rich or sweet dessert.

By this time, our plates were used up and
the table was bare except for a bowl of iced grapes and a large dish of almonds. These were to be munched as we carried on our after dinner conversation.

Because this letter is turning out to be much longer than I had expected, I won’t tell you much about the conversation. The French Colonel was a very brilliant man and had traveled quite a bit, the Prince of course had studied in France and has also traveled quite a bit. The best part of the whole evening was that we did not talk about the war, nor how our army compared with theirs. My little knowledge of French did help me get most of the conversation though and what I didn't understand, the prince and colonel were kind enough to let my interpreter tell me what they were talking about. After about an hour of this pleasing talk, the prince asked us if we would like to see the Beys own room and that starts another story of which I shall have to be brief because to tell the whole story it would take hours and hours not to mention the time and paper.

It was a room about 40 ft square and right in the center hung a candleabra or Chandelier which had hung there a 125 years. I have seen many that were much larger but none as pretty or ornamental. It held you spell-bound for a minute, the floor was almost covered with scatter rugs, occidental and occidental that must have cost thousands and thousands of dollars. At one end of the room was the Beys own gold chain surrounded by plush divano and over stuffed chains. All around the room were chairs and divano of various colors, each a distinctive set of color scheme. The clocks deserve a word because I saw several all made of gold and were hundreds of years old. Some of them were made in France and some in Switzerland and one of them in particular I noticed had to be wound only once a year. Mother, the vases would hold you spell-bound for minutes. Their beauty was something that no words could describe. All hand made and hand colored and many of them have been in the family for generations. There is one picture (one of the many) I must tell you about before I leave and that is a hand drawn picture in charcoal that is over twice the size of the Bey himself. It was done by a native arab and took over 2 years to complete. It is more realistic than any painting I have ever seen and just commands your attention for quite a few moments.

That's all I can tell you about the palace itself on paper but if you were only here I could talk for over an hour more at least. I'll tell you the rest sometime when we have all settled down some evening over a pan of pop corn and a glass of sweets cider.

After leaving the Beys room we were escorted back to the dining room which by this time had been converted back to a luxurious lounge room and were served arabian coffee. The coffee itself was good although quite a bit different than ours but again I thought of you mother when I saw those petite cups and saucers. You would gladly have traded a war bond for a set of 6 of them. The cups were white china trimmed with gold and
only held about an ounce and a half. The saucers were trimmed to correspond with the cups and were sized in proportion. After our cup of coffee we said good bye to our guests and made a hasty departure for home so we could get these things on paper before we forgot a single thing.

That's the story of the evening folks, a story I shall never forget and one I shall be proud to hold in my mind forever. Very few soldiers have ever experienced a thing like I had tonight. Goodnight my loved ones, I'll be with you again Sunday nite. Be good to yourselves won't you? With oceans of love to you all from the same old

“Larry"

P.S. my belly is so full I forgot to say that your Soldier boy is right on the "Beam and Couldn't be better.” “.

[Willmore]

Hi JB.

Really interesting read, thank you for sharing this letter with us.

I would say you have the letter writers name spot on. I found a Lawrence Maynard Cunningham who was born in Williamson NY and lived in Williamson, Wayne, New York. His father was called Frank A Cunningham. Unfortunately the information was quite limited, with no photo.

Lawrence Maynard Cunningham (1911–1984)
BIRTH -
10 NOV 1911 • Williamson, New York, USA
Marriage -
8 Sep 1936 • Williamson, New York, USA
Hazel E. Schwartz (1912–2003)
DEATH -
27 MAR 1984 • Williamson, New York


Lawrence Maynard Cunningham in the U.S., World War II Draft Cards Young Men, 1940-1947

Name: Lawrence Maynard Cunningham
Race: White
Age: 29
Birth Date: 10 Nov 1911
Birth Place: Williamson, N.y.
Residence Place: Newark, Wayne, New York
Registration Date: 16 Oct 1940
Registration Place: Newark, Wayne, New York, USA
Employer: Newark State School
Height: 5ft 9 1/2
Weight: 195
Complexion: Light
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Next of Kin: Hazel S. Cunningham (Wife)





Kind regards,

Will.

[Heartfeltzero]

Hey Will,

Awesome info! Thank you. I figured it was more than likely Lawrence. I appreciate the information. Thanks again.

Good day,
JB

[Verikauha]

Personally i love that penmanship, joined-up-writing.
Fascinating that its identical in US and in Finland.
Even I did learned this exact same cursive, what my elementary school teachers forced upon me here in Finland 1990-ties. Saddly starting letters are less choreographic today.

But germans joined-up-writing gives me literal headache when I try to read their scribbles.