July 2, 1944
Dearest One.
I didn't write yesterday, as you may have noticed. Insufficient time again. However, I do hope to make up for it this evening.
Yesterday's mail brought me my check and two envelopes from you, each containing part of your June 25-26 letter. The "Dees" should provide you with many an interesting evening, from your descriptions of them. I'm glad you liked the latest snaps and yes, that was a thousand dollar bond Goldie's father gifted them with. If you will recall you gave me a "sermon" in this letter and I think it well not to reply at this time. On one point I can assure you - that I care nothing for what someone else has. I know that I can get anything I want once I set my cap for it - so there now! (Meaning material things). The reason that I do not care to discuss this matter with you is simply that I may never tell you these things that have hurt me so deeply. I do know that I shall do everything in my power to prevent them from happening again I’ve gotten so that I can take most anything!
The only reason for my wanting to have a good cry at that specific time was that I felt a deeper yearning than usual for your presence. Or isn't that possible? I love to get out amongst people, but, somehow, whenever the family gets together, I get an unbearable pang of loneliness.
Then you went into a discussion concerning (Ethel's remark about my bearing you a son. Well, dear, I think I gave you the answer to that the other day, though unintentionally. At the time I made the remark I did mean to puzzle Ethel. I do know, and I've said it many times, that I do not want to have another child until I've regained sufficient strength to rear it properly and to support it to my liking. On the other hand, I know my feelings for you and I know me and I might think otherwise when you are once again by my side. Really, baby, I'd rather not even discuss the subject til a more appropriate time. Okay?
Well, $5 of the $20 went for Adele yesterday. I splurged by buying her a lovely pinafore. It is not a factory-made item, but it was made by hand by the sister of the owner of a kiddie shoppe where I buy. It's a sort of handkerchief-linen material of a yellow color and is trimmed up in royal blue ric-rac. The very flared skirt stands out as do the fully fluffy ruffles over the shoulders. The ruffles are edged with a fine yellow lace. It's very feminine and very pretty and very flattering to her. It cost exactly $4, which is pretty steep. Now I must get her white shoes, yellow socks and a yellow bow. Then I'll have some snaps made. Besides this I bought her two thick short-sleeved jerseys, one white and one rose, which were 50¢ apiece.
I gave Harry and Goldie $5 in cash besides the scale I bought for them.
The Wymans had a telegram from the War Dept. advising them that Harry had been wounded, but not seriously. It seems that he was wounded in the left shoulder. Here is his address:
Pfc. Harry Weinman,
I didn't write yesterday, as you may have noticed. Insufficient time again. However, I do hope to make up for it this evening.
Yesterday's mail brought me my check and two envelopes from you, each containing part of your June 25-26 letter. The "Dees" should provide you with many an interesting evening, from your descriptions of them. I'm glad you liked the latest snaps and yes, that was a thousand dollar bond Goldie's father gifted them with. If you will recall you gave me a "sermon" in this letter and I think it well not to reply at this time. On one point I can assure you - that I care nothing for what someone else has. I know that I can get anything I want once I set my cap for it - so there now! (Meaning material things). The reason that I do not care to discuss this matter with you is simply that I may never tell you these things that have hurt me so deeply. I do know that I shall do everything in my power to prevent them from happening again I’ve gotten so that I can take most anything!
The only reason for my wanting to have a good cry at that specific time was that I felt a deeper yearning than usual for your presence. Or isn't that possible? I love to get out amongst people, but, somehow, whenever the family gets together, I get an unbearable pang of loneliness.
Then you went into a discussion concerning (Ethel's remark about my bearing you a son. Well, dear, I think I gave you the answer to that the other day, though unintentionally. At the time I made the remark I did mean to puzzle Ethel. I do know, and I've said it many times, that I do not want to have another child until I've regained sufficient strength to rear it properly and to support it to my liking. On the other hand, I know my feelings for you and I know me and I might think otherwise when you are once again by my side. Really, baby, I'd rather not even discuss the subject til a more appropriate time. Okay?
Well, $5 of the $20 went for Adele yesterday. I splurged by buying her a lovely pinafore. It is not a factory-made item, but it was made by hand by the sister of the owner of a kiddie shoppe where I buy. It's a sort of handkerchief-linen material of a yellow color and is trimmed up in royal blue ric-rac. The very flared skirt stands out as do the fully fluffy ruffles over the shoulders. The ruffles are edged with a fine yellow lace. It's very feminine and very pretty and very flattering to her. It cost exactly $4, which is pretty steep. Now I must get her white shoes, yellow socks and a yellow bow. Then I'll have some snaps made. Besides this I bought her two thick short-sleeved jerseys, one white and one rose, which were 50¢ apiece.
I gave Harry and Goldie $5 in cash besides the scale I bought for them.
The Wymans had a telegram from the War Dept. advising them that Harry had been wounded, but not seriously. It seems that he was wounded in the left shoulder. Here is his address:
Pfc. Harry Weinman,
33072688 Detachment of Patients
4183 U. S. Army Hospital Plant
APO 574, C/O P. M.
New York, N. Y.
I would write more, honey, but Anne decided to pay me a visit and I don't want to be rude. She is reading the Sunday paper, so that I might finish this. I'll write a longer letter tomorrow, sweet. Good night, baby, I love you very much!
I would write more, honey, but Anne decided to pay me a visit and I don't want to be rude. She is reading the Sunday paper, so that I might finish this. I'll write a longer letter tomorrow, sweet. Good night, baby, I love you very much!
Your Eve
2 July 1944
Ev, dearest,
First off, I must tell you not to look for letters from me dated 30 June and 1 July. I have been working steadily these past three days on the Company History. I just finished it a few minutes ago, and now I am free to write.
Nothing much has happened since I wrote you last. You already know what I have been doing with my time, so there's nothing further to say in that connection. The only mail I received in the three days were a "longie” from Dot while she was in Atlantic City, and a “shortie” from Ruth - also from Atlantic City. (Wonder what there is about the place that makes people think of me?)
No, sweet, there was nothing at all from you. The latest communique I have of yours is the “longie" of 19 June, and I’ve already answered that one. I figure I should be due for another jack-pot in a day or two. Until then, or at least for the time being, I’m rather at a loss for words.
I might say that everything here is moving along smoothly. The news from the battle-fronts gets more encouraging day by day, and there's no telling at which moment it's likely to be all over. Reading the papers, it's difficult to feel anything but optimism at the way things are going.
So keep the ole chin up, Baby, and maybe it won't be too long 'til that day when you'll be able to look across the room (if I'll ever be that far from you), and see
First off, I must tell you not to look for letters from me dated 30 June and 1 July. I have been working steadily these past three days on the Company History. I just finished it a few minutes ago, and now I am free to write.
Nothing much has happened since I wrote you last. You already know what I have been doing with my time, so there's nothing further to say in that connection. The only mail I received in the three days were a "longie” from Dot while she was in Atlantic City, and a “shortie” from Ruth - also from Atlantic City. (Wonder what there is about the place that makes people think of me?)
No, sweet, there was nothing at all from you. The latest communique I have of yours is the “longie" of 19 June, and I’ve already answered that one. I figure I should be due for another jack-pot in a day or two. Until then, or at least for the time being, I’m rather at a loss for words.
I might say that everything here is moving along smoothly. The news from the battle-fronts gets more encouraging day by day, and there's no telling at which moment it's likely to be all over. Reading the papers, it's difficult to feel anything but optimism at the way things are going.
So keep the ole chin up, Baby, and maybe it won't be too long 'til that day when you'll be able to look across the room (if I'll ever be that far from you), and see
Your ever-lovin’
Phil
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