February 2, 1944
My dearest darling,
It's 10:00 P.M. (you're probably in dreamland) and this letter won't be posted til tomorrow. I had no time to write earlier in the evening as I just returned from a movie (went with Betty and Sarah) “His Butler’s Sister” (D. Durbin, F. Tone) (very enjoyable). I should go to bed, having to go to Miss Hans tomorrow, but I'm in a mellow and letter-writing mood and I'm sure you won't mind if I linger a bit. I long to draw you close, embrace you and know the warmth and sweetness that is you, my dearest. My darling, expression of the love I bear you goes beyond, far beyond, any comprehension and words are unable to tell you of the depth and immensity of my adoration and love and pride in you. Sweetheart, I'm lonesome and so hungry for you—
The pictures were ready today and I'm disappointed, for not one of them is to my liking. See for yourself. Yours of 20 Jan. was delivered next door and I didn't have receipt of it til dinner time. You sound so sweet and loving I want to hug and kiss you. I'm going to get rid of most of your clothes as I want you to have a complete new wardrobe when you come home. Then you went on about a New Years we spent together, your sideburns in the picture (I don't rightly know why I like them on you, but I do) Adele's reaction to your picture, etc. I'm sure she'd love her daddy to bits and does now, though she can't show it. She's gotten very loving of late. When I put her to sleep, she cries. If I lift her out of bed, if only for just a moment, she kisses me, of her own free will. She's not so dumb, eh? It's so funny to watch them learn and they do learn quickly, especially when it comes to being spoiled. However, I don't think you can use the word “spoiled” in connection with Adele. She is definitely not spoiled. Sweet, unspoiled and mischievous are more fitting. Mom, Adele and I walked up to the yarn shop today, finally selecting wool for her sweater. It's to be two-tone—gold and chocolate brown. Adele didn't wet for over two hours and could hardly wait til we got home to be placed on the potty. Then she really “wet”! Mom and I received our checks—$20 and $62.00 as usual. So far, Mom has received an increase of $17.00 per month, as Jack's check was for $37 and a few days previously, Mom received a check for $34 to cover the retroactive period. As for me, it will all come in a lump sum. Ann has been getting $80 regularly since December. I paid in full for my fur coat and paid my board. Our debt is $60 and that will be wiped clean shortly. After owing money for over two years, it's a good feeling to know you've paid.
I'm not sending out a Valentine, as you always seem to like my own thoughts better than those expressed on a card. More of this tomorrow, baby, as it is late and I must be up early. How I long to cuddle up to your back (sigh)—Good night, Phil.
February 3, 1944
Here I am again.
You've made my life on earth divine.
From the sublime to the ridiculous, if you don't mind,
I'm sending you this to save a dime. cont.—
That was my last green sheet. Who said anything about pied stationery?
So won't you be my Valentine?
P U, Maybe I should have spent the dime. Oh well, can't say I didn't try.
Mom promised me a belated birthday gift for Adele if the raise came through on her allotment. Consequently, she gave me $5. I want to buy Adele a gold bracelet. She loves jewelry (just like a woman—did you say) Whenever anyone puts a ring on her finger or bracelet on her arm, she holds her hand at arms length and admires and admires. What's more, when she's all dressed up and I take her to the mirror and say “my how pretty you look” she pats herself as if to say “I know Mommy.” What a kid!!
Goldie informs me that her stepmother has made a gorgeous pinafore for Adele. Goldie’s folks have close friends, manufacturers of underwear, lingerie, etc. and she has access to many lovely remnants. In her letter to Goldie, she described the pinafore thusly (and I'm dying to see it): It's baby blue silk material, very full skirt, ruffled shoulders, trimmed with a sort of rosebud material. Sounds scrumptious, doesn't it? That's what Sarah calls Adele—a rosebud. Please, sweet, try to get a letter off to the Silvers and thank them for their every kindness. I shall send off a thank you letter, too.
I worked a few hours for Miss Hahn. I received the enclosed letter from Jack N. and I'm sending it along because I think the last paragraph so clever and original. I shall answer him shortly.
In reading over, I notice that I neglected to mention the style and stitch of Mom’s sweater-to-be. It will be a plain chocolate brown coat sweater with a gold Y O K E. It's rather difficult to explain the stitch. I'll go into more detail when I get my instructions. We didn't have time to wait for them, so I just left a deposit on the wool.
I'm glad you finally got a cigarette lighter that serves the purpose. How is the crystal of your watch wearing? I once mentioned cost of it to Snuff and he didn't seem to think it was worth it as plexi glass or whatever it's called has a tendency to scratch. Do you find this is so?
I don't think I'll be able to send all 16 pictures at one time, so I'll divide them and sent 8 at a time. Adele is wearing Gloria’s gift of skirt and blouse in several poses and the sweet blue and white pinafore in others. If you look closely, you'll see most of the family and the neighbors on the porch. We sure did have an audience. I looked “peaked” in these snaps, as I had had very little sleep the preceding night. The suit and coat photographed well, even if I didn't. The best are those of Natalie and Adele. Room enough to send a long sweet kiss and a great big “I LOVE YOU”
P.S. Mailed off 5 letters the other night, one to Dot, asking why she doesn't contact me.
February 3, 1944
The fourth consecutive mail-less day and I hardly know how to begin—But now that I have begun, I'll try very hard to fill a coupla of pages anyhow. The first sentence is untrue, technically, ’cause, I did get a letter today (though how it ever reached me is a little beyond my understanding). It came as a great surprise, since I had no idea he (the writer) was in England. Nothing on the address was right except my name, but it reached me within 12 days. He learned from some source that I am in England, and being unable to procure my address, wrote to the “Stars and Stripes” for it. The address they gave him was certainly a weird conglomeration of long numbers. Nevertheless, through the good offices of a kind providence and a sublime faith in the veritude of the press, he managed to get the letter through to me. (Well—that's one page—and all I've told you is that I received a letter.) I didn't even tell you the guy’s name yet. (Wonder if I could use enough words in the process to fill this sheet?) No fair peekin’! Enough of this, Sweet; after all, how do I know you're in the mood for tomfoolery?* The letter is from Izzy Gutkin, and he says he's been over here for “some time now.” He wants me to write and arrange a meeting, and I certainly will try. He asked, too, to be remembered to all you at home. If this keeps up, we'll soon all be “living”? in England. Let's hope it don't “keep up” much longer.
Yesterday I was busy all day and in the evening I was weary and drowsy and blue and generally in no mood to write.
Today I was busy again getting the boys’ money down to the Finance Office. You’d be surprised at the amount of work entailed in this procedure, which is comparatively simple in civilian life. I'm well rested, though, and I'm feeling pretty good tonight. There's no movie on Thursday, and it's too damn cold and windy out to walk down to the Snack Bar, so I'm taking it easy this evening in the hut.
Well, Chippie, day after tomorrow, I'm leaving for London to meet Ed (I hope). I added the paren ’cause I'm not sure he'll be there. I've been expecting to hear from him daily, but as yet—nothing. I'm hoping he'll be at the Hans Crescent Club to meet me, though.
That's about all for tonight, my Sweet; if there is mail tomorrow, you may expect a “longie”; if not—V-mail. Give my love to all the folks. All my love to you, darling, and a big hug and kiss for the punkin. G’night now.—
*(Some day I'll explain that asterisk).
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