Sunday, April 26, 2020

Post #9 - May 22, 1941 A Bouquet of Pink Roses and a Scorcher


May 22, 1941
5:30 P.M.


Words couldn’t express what I felt when I opened the front door, upon returning from work, & saw your letter. I felt like crying—that’s how happy I was, sweet.

Today was a “scorcher.” I think the mercury hit about 105. To make it worse, I was “sicker in sick.” Finally came through. I slept in my lunch hour, as I usually do when I am not feeling well, but this time I felt even worse. I was going to ask for permission to go home, but stuck it out. If you can, so can I.

Mr. Jaffe brought in a bunch of beautiful pink roses (from his garden) for the office. I asked him if I could have a few to take home to Mom & he gave me the whole bunch.  He said he would bring more in—if he remembered. Mom thought they were lovely.

I am enclosing two dollars to tide you over until I see you. I hope it’s enough. I’ll give you the rest when you come in. (Inducement)

I put a little picture of you (one I had) in the pin & have been wearing it. Mr. Jaffe said that I should get a picture of you “in uniform” for it. We’ll see.

I’ll give Sam’s girl a call the first chance I get. I doubt if it will be before next week. I’m very glad that Lil wrote to you. She said she might join the Army & choose Ft. Meade as her station, but Eddie said there would be a “triangle.” At least you’re learning who will take a few moments to drop you a line. Then, again, most people are just too lazy to write.

Your Mom just commented on how I look. She contends that when I am unwell I look better than when I am well. Can you beat it! Oh well, it’s still a compliment. She is definitely going to New York as I send back a card saying she would be at Rose’s wedding.

Harry asked me if we could go to the race track Memorial Day, but I informed him that we were broke. However, I did say that we might consider it on July 4th.

Jake tells me that Evette is the same type as I. He also says that he cares for her more than any other girl he ever went with. That guy has me thinking. I’m afraid he’s got it—but bad. He doesn’t stop talking about her.

I stayed in last night—did some washing & ironing—for a change. I’m going to take it easy tonight. In the meantime, take it easy & take care of yourself—we all love you. So long, baby, til Saturday—when you’ll see

Your lovin’ wife,

P.S. How is your “crease” holdin’ out? I’ll press it again when you are in.
P.P.S. Here is one of Ben’s jokes. If an Irish woman married a negro, what would her children be? Answer—Irish jigs. Don’t blame me, I was only trying to cheer you up.
P.P.S. Tonight marks our ninth week of married life. Imagine! Nine weeks.
P.P.P.S. I always think of something after I end my letter.

Thursday May 22, 1941
7.00 P.M

Dear Chippie,

Just to prove to you that wonders never cease here I am writing again. It was a thrill to receive two letters from you today. The first one was sent to the wrong camp, and arrived simultaneously with the one you mailed yesterday. I was glad to hear of Sam and Ann Nerenberg's good fortune. I am disappointed because Jack hasn't written yet. I intended to write to him today but decided you were more deserving. It's much too hot to write two letters. The heat is simply terrific. We spent most of the after- noon looking for shady spots and the group games that were scheduled for the last hour were called off. The Lieutenant was afraid some of the fellows would get sunstroke (I heard him say so). Last night Sam & I took some pictures. The first two I took so were n.g. so I tried again, and it's just fair. You should have seen the company put away 35 gallons of lemonade at mess tonight. Everyone half-dead of thirst & I’ll bet that no soldier in the outfit had less than a quart. I'm feeling pretty good now and getting so that I can take the grind with not too much ill-effect. In the evening after I take my shower, I feel swell. Just one more day before Saturday, my sweet, and unless something unpredictable happens to hold up our passes, I'll be seeing you then. I'm anxious to see and hear about the pearls what Mark had to say. I would like to have him for Saturday dinner. You might try asking him. What puzzles me, is how you got in touch with him. My guess is that you called him at the place. It just occurred to me that you probably won't get this until Saturday afternoon, in which case you may have difficulty in contacting Mark. But, if by some chance you do get this in time to call him at work Friday, tell him to bring Adams along. The fact that everyone is fine and the house is coming along nicely gratifies me no end. I can hardly wait to talk to you, sweet, but one thing they do a good job of teaching you in the Army—is patience. So—I'll try very hard to hold my breath until then. We have a four hour march and (bivouac—(pitching tents), tomorrow so I think I'll turn in early (if I can stop perspiring) and get plenty of rest. Take care of yourself, sweet, and give my love to all—and never stop being so considerate of your loving husband


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