June 10, 1941
My dear hubby:
Having helped Mom with the supper dishes, I am now at liberty to write. Right at the moment Mom and I are planning to see “So Ends Our Night” at the Imperial, but Mom doesn't want to walk to 60th St. I'll probably go alone.
I had a very nice time last night at Lil's. She's very good company. We talked (for a change) and Lil admitted that her “new” decision (she's going to camp after all) was due mostly to us. After seeing our home, the way we plan in the face of an uncertain future and our love for each other, she decided that Eddie is definitely not the one. She claims she is sure about her feelings, but I think she is in a quandary when it comes to action. I sincerely hope things work out well for her. Morty Greitzer reported for induction today—was given 10 days more (new law). He passed the physical exam and definitely goes on June 20th. I called Anna Presti last night. She says she will be truly disappointed if we fail to show up. She said to come regardless of the time. I told her not to count on it. The weather has been delightfully cool and pleasant for the past 48 hours. How's the weatherman been treating you? Good I hope. You don't have a black eye yet, do you? (target practice) We're getting a ride to the Imperial and I'm being paged. Just time to say I love you, sweet.
Your loving wife
Tuesday, June 10, 1941
Just as you say another day has fled into oblivion and since we are well into the week, I'm sorta anticipating this week-end. Today I was tagged for “pit detail,” which is the wrong end of the target range. Remind me to describe the workings of the range to you. I think you will find it interesting. Received your letter this evening and was sorry to hear you didn't make a movie after all. Lil's candy arrived with a nice letter. Tonight I'm going to be very busy sending my “chinos” to the tailor, taking a shower, polishing my shoes and writing this will take the better part of the night. The only one of these chores I enjoy is “writing this.” I honestly believe, Ev, if i failed to write some night, I could not sleep. It's gotten to be a habit—but a good one. The only drawback is that I usually write immediately after supper and all my work is ahead of me. Therefore, although I'd have no trouble at all filling a few of these pages nightly, the tendency on my part is to shorten and condense my letters. Then again the thought in the back of my mind is: if i tell Ev everything that goes on in the course of the week, there will be nothing to relate when I see her. So you must agree, sweet, that the real purpose of these daily letters is not so much to keep you informed of my doings, but to let you know that you are constantly in my heart and mind. So much so that nothing means anything except how it affects us. Give my love to Mom and the boys. Good night, Sweet.
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