Sunday, July 25, 2021

Post #383 - June 4, 1944 God Knows, It’s Small Enough Return for Our Involuntary Separation


4 June 1944


This is the first letter I have had a chance to write in June. I have been uncommonly busy these past these days, what with the company history, Soldiers’ deposits, PTT's, and various reports to get out. The days were taken up getting the work out, and the evenings, which are practically non-existent, due to the long hours of daylight,—(it doesn’t get dark ’til 11:30) have been spent in pursuits which come under the heading of military information, and which consequently, I am not free to discuss. My inability to write these past few days has been a source of irritation to me, 'cause I just don’t feel right when I miss getting a letter off to you. This “irritation” was aggravated by the fact that I received no less than seven V-mails of yours in that time—to say nothing of the two packages containing the Milky Ways and this stationery and Reds clothes. Before I proceed with the business of answering your accumulated letters, Sweetheart, I want to thank you most profusely for the candy. The stationery comes in handy, too. However, if I'm going to answer all seven of your letters today—and I certainly to try—I'd better start typing to keep the letter from becoming too bulky. 

Your first letter is dated 19 May. This advised me that you finally received the bonds. Seems we both had the same thought in this connection—how many we'll accumulate before it's all over. As I said before, Chippie, I hope not too many. God knows, it's small enough return for our involuntary separation. Yes, Baby, I still hope to see you in '44; nor will I stop hoping until the very tail-end of the year, 

Gloria's picture, which seems to have impressed you most favorably, is, no doubt, a most attractive picture, and must flatter her considerably. I'm afraid, Chippie, that the sort of thing you describe isn't the type of thing I would care for. A photograph, to my way of thinking, should neither flatter nor detract from a subject's appearance. It should be a true reflection of the most favorable view of the subject. This business of glamorizing with the aid of unaccustomed ornamentation such as the false eye brows, etc, in order to take the "nicest" picture possible, is 0.K. for those who place "show" above integrity For mine, I'll take a true likeness in preference, 

Sorry Sam and Anne couldn't make it this time, but I'm hoping they'll try again soon. 

On the 20th, you complain again that riding in a trolley or bus makes you ill, This is about the umpteenth time you've mentioned it. Why in the world, if it affects you so, do you continue to do it? 

It was most considerate of you, Chippie, to keep word of Mom's recent illness from me, and I appreciate your motives, but I deplore the fact that she is so inconsiderate of herself and you in that she is so careless about going out in clothes not sufficient to the weather. This is an old failing of hers, and it's time she stopped it. 

Next time you see Cadet Wheeler, if you ever do, tell him for me that he is right in some respects, but wrong in others. It's true that some of the Yanks over here have "girl-trouble,” but they are the same ones who have the same trouble back in the States—and it's not because they don't have enough to do, as the Cadet implies. Most of us have plenty to keep us busy, and ample divertisement of an evening. As for sending fewer, but better trained men over here, he's ignoring a great many things. Does he think, for instance, that the Army is sending the untrained men over-seas? Then, too, the cost per head and the scarcity of shipping space involved makes it incumbent on those who determine the outfits for overseas shipment to be very discriminating in their selection. It follows, then, that the personnel sent overseas do so only to serve a very real need. Thus, to my way of thinking, Cadet Wheeler's statement to the effect that there are too many of us over here is, to use an Americanism, all wet. I don't know what he bases his opinion of the “duration" on, and I don't care, but whom are you going to believe—him or me? 

In answer to your question about the Chiclets: they would be most welcome, Chippie. I like to chew in the movies, and I have no preference between chewing-gum and Chiclets. 

In your letter of the 22nd, you say that Mom went with Mrs, Feldman to see "Song of Russia", but in your letter of the 23rd you make no mention of how she liked it. (Please advise.) 

The "English expression is not "you have it, chum—it's If you've HAD it, chum". I'm sorry, too, that I can't have you in person, but you'd be surprised how close I come to it sometimes! (Know what I mean?) 

You say the punkin has an inclination to neatness. It was most kind of you, darling mine, not to add the obvious "not like you". I appreciate your regard for my feelings in resisting what must have been a very strong impulse. Not being of the same stuff as you, my Sweet, I am led to remark on the fact that while riding on street-cars is usually enough to nauseate you and make you generally ill, I note that you "skip” into town to go shopping, without any mention of ill-effects. Ah, woman, woman—! ! Next time you chance on something you would like very much to have (like those aqua ear-rings), and the money involved stops you, yield to that impulse, Baby; then write and tell me what it was and how much it cost, and I will make you a present of it, Truly, Ev, nothing would give me greater pleasure. Anything from $5 to $10 is usually a matter of small moment with me, and I can spare that much any time, so let's not be so backward about spending $6 on a pair of ear-rings you think I might like, shall we? If they're still for sale when you receive this, go gettem. I'm wondering at the moment, how you decided to spend that ten bucks I sent you a while back. By the way what are the "so many other things you need right now?


That word you use as a synonym for being very fatigued: "duped" is a new one on me. I believe you meant to use the more commonly used "pooped", but I'm glad you're not familiar with it, 'cause on you it wouldn't sound good—fershstaist? Just stick to "tired" or "knocked-out”, or something of the sort, but not "pooped". For me it has a most vulgar association which I wouldn't expect you to know anything about—and don't get curious! 

I like your idea in training the punkin to associate "daddy' with my picture, and "love” with both. Now if she'll associate me in person with "daddy and "love", we'll really have sumpin when I come home. So far, as you point out, she may have a pretty good understanding of how "Mommy loves daddy", but she ain't seen nothin' 'til she sees how "daddy loves Mommy”!! Hope she's not as jealous as you say she is, 'cause I'll certainly give her plenty of cause for it, once I get to you. Not that she won't get her share of loving—, but she'd better prepare to share me with you, 'cause while she may be the center of attention as far as anyone else is concerned, she can only look forward to half my attention. In practice, though, I expect it'll be a three-way proposition, with each of us gleaning his full share of love and affection. I'm looking forward to Sunday mornings with my two Chippies as I've never anticipated anything before. Heaven itself could hold no greater charm for me. I'm not forgetting my third Chippie, either, in that connection. She is in the kitchen preparing that well-remembered breakfast of sable sandwiches, jelly-omelets, and all the accessories. Frankly, I don't know of any other inducement that would be potent enough to get me out of bed at all of a Sunday! 

Harry's meeting with Mike Nerenberg is a lucky accident. I've been wondering about him here of late, and would like very much to get in touch with him. Please give him my best regards and ask him if he won't write. I knew nothing of his mishap at Ft. Dix. 

Sorry my mail was held up again, Chippie, but I'm glad you're learning to take the delay in your stride, 

Afraid you'll be disappointed in my Mother's Day letter, Honey. You see, I meant the flowers and the cablegrams to speak for me on this occasion. I don't remember if I even referred to it in my letter. I'm truly sorry, Baby; I should have known you would expect something "special" in my letter that day. 

Which all just about "answers" the "answerable " parts of all seven letters—. 

For the rest, darling, know that I am well, in reasonably good spirits, and keeping our date just as faithfully as you are. You are very close, indeed, when 11 o'clock rolls a round, and you may rest assured, Sweet, that, in my mind's eye, I am treating you no differently at date time than has been my practice in the past. Does that make it plain enough for you, or would you prefer that I draw a diagram? (Yeah - Yeah - I know - you'd just love a diagram, wouldn't you?) (If I thought you had the slightest need of it I might oblige you, but I don't - so I won't!) 

And now - au revoir, dearest one, and don't forget to kiss "daddy's" punkin for him. I hope that this has, in some measure, repaid you for the letters you didn't receive from me in the past three days. My love to all. 


Your Phil 

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