August 6, 1944
Dearest Mine,
Today the weather was somewhat cooler and a welcome relief from yesterday's intense heat. Fay had a pleasant surprise, when, this morning she opened the front door in answer to consistent knocking to find—her hubby. He got a 3 day pass. Was she excited!!
Petey made two more snaps of Adele and is now having the roll printed. They should be ready any day now.
Adele is very neat and clean as concerns her eating, especially by herself. She wipes her mouth with a napkin as soon as she feels it is dirty. I let her eat solid foods alone, but do not give her such things as soup to eat alone.
My dad is painting the porch at 4920 and you positively will not recognize it when you see it. I didn't seem to be able to get to sleep last night. Thoughts of you and “us”, our love and sweet memories floated by in review in my mind. I'm getting optimistic about seeing you soon (don't ask me why) and hope that it will be so. I love you sweet.
Your Eve
P.S. PTC strike has ended.
6 August 1944
Dearest Ev,
This is my first letter since 1 August. That means, Baby, that I have missed writing four days in a row. I think I explained in my last letter, Sweet, that I expected to be very busy all this week. But I had no real idea myself, at the time, how busy I would be. The fact is, I've been rushed to death ever since the 2nd. Seems as though all the work ganged up on me. Fortunately, I got a very lucky break. Two new men were assigned to the Company, and one (S/Sgt. Danner) has assisted me in getting out from under the mass of work. As it was, we managed to clean it up in three days. If it weren't for the unexpected help, I'd still be fussing around with war bond forms, allotments, soldiers' deposits, etc. Well, Chippie, on the 2nd and 3rd we worked steadily. I myself worked well into the evening on both those dates, and just couldn't find the time to write. On the 4th, I figured we were both entitled to some rest and relaxation, so I prevailed upon Sgt. Murphy to give us both 24 hour passes. Sgt. Danner has only been over here in the ETO a few weeks and I spent the pass showing him
Now to get down to the business of answering your letters. They are those of 19, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26 July, and I loved every one of them. They arrived in bunches, and that's the way I read them - and did I have fun!
The one dated the 19th was written in a spare moment at the office - I should have said "typed". The only thing I learned from it was that Adele has four teeth in front and four 2 year molars to go to complete her full set of teeth - (and you still haven't told me that you have made an appointment with the dentist to have your own teeth examined). Which in turn reminds me that there are a good many things that I have asked you from time to time that you have failed to answer. I don't remember at the moment what they were, but I do remember wondering about it the other day. Please keep my letters handy when you are answering them, will you, Sweet?
Your V-Mail of the 21st was sent "as is" because you had not kept within the border. There is a notation on the form to that effect with the added admonition that I "advise (my) correspondent". I'm not sore, though, even if the P.M. is. In this one, you advise me that Dot read you my letter to her. Then you go on to say that you are "frightened to think "what (I) will be like when I resume "relations. with (you) after so long a time". I don't remember that I said anything in my letter to Dot to make you feel that way. Nor do I understand why you should feel that way at all. Of course, if you have a notion that I'll eat you up because I have gone so long without you, I can understand that, but do you think for a moment that I am fool enough to leave nothing for another "meal"? You needn't worry on that score, baby mine, 'cause I'm a very gentle guy at heart and can't conceive that I would be unduly ferocious oven under the provocative circumstances you describe. I'm well aware of your apprehension on the issue of becoming pregnant again, and your constant reiteration of your fear does not speak well for your faith in me or the promise I've made you numerous times before. As to your uncertainty in the matter of your own ability to cope with the matter, let me again assure you, honey-child, that you need have no fears on that score, either. You can trust me, as always, to have enough restraint for the both of us. Nor will any temporary weakness on your part influence me in the slightest. I think I have proved my sufficiency in that respect on more than one occasion. Gee, Chippie, just the memory of some of those "occasions" is almost more than I can bear. (C'mon sumpin’!)
Your second paragraph informs me that our daughter has progressed to the point where she takes her own food. Glad to hear it, Sweet, but I'd much rather see it. I note that you take "other peoples" advice in the matter of those pyrex bottles, but that you won't take Sarah's advice to see about Adele's legs now. Seems to me, you could do better if you reversed your decisions. The worse thing that could happen to the bottles is that they might be broken in shipment, but irreparable harm might be caused the punkin by delaying too long in putting her case before a specialist. Personally, I wouldn't want to assume the responsibility of deciding how long to wait in this case. My view is that it's never too soon to start corrective measures, but it could easily be too late. Think it over, Sweet, and then decide if you want to take that chance. Frankly, I couldn't - and wouldn't. If I could do anything to change your mind in the matter, I would. If there's anything wrong, I'd certainly want to know about it, and if the appearance of her legs excites comment from Sarah, then I think it's time we stopped indulging in wishful thinking and did something about it. To tell the truth, I'm more than a little sorry that we've put it off this long. If for no other reason than for my own peace of mind, Ev, I wish you would avail yourself of the most expert medical opinion you know how to obtain. I don't feel that we have the right to gamble with Adele's future, and that's what it amounts to. We owe it to her to do everything we can to insure her well-being, and I feel that we have already taken too many liberties in this matter. You know my wishes, Sweet; the decision is now yours to make - and the responsibility - remember that!
As for the pyrex bottles I asked you to send, I'm disappointed that you would place the loss of a dollar or two above the satisfaction I would derive in helping Evelyn out with these much needed items. I'm sure that if you wrapped them properly, and marked them plainly, that they would arrive O.K. Please re-consider, Honey, and listen to me instead of several people. Don't you think I thought about the likelihood of their being broken in shipment? Just the knowledge that we tried to procure them would have left me feeling a lot better about the whole thing, even if they did arrive in a broken state. If you can understand that, honey, you will oblige me in the matter, I'm sure.
Glad you thought the news was “wonderful" on the 21st, when certain elements of the German Army revolted and attempted to do away with hitler. You must be feeling very optimistic about now, what with the German Armies taking a terrific beating on all fronts, fighting among themselves, etc. We are all hoping for an early ending, and the general feeling is, that we won't be disappointed this time. (Phooey on your old ouija board). (1945 - phooey!)
Your very pleasing letter of the 23rd tells all about your weekend visit with Dot. I'm delighted you got the chance to relax, Ev, and I'm no end grateful to Dot for providing the means. I'm glad, too that the punkin comported herself like a little lady and made it possible for you to really enjoy yourself. What I wouldn't give to know exactly what you and Dot had to say to each other! I'll bet both Snuff and I would be acutely embarrassed to hear the conversation and the confidences. You gals slay me with your inconsistencies. Just consider what would happen if Dot showed up at some affair wearing a duplicate of your newest dress that you had just gotten for the occasion (or vice versa). Hell, you'd probably be tearing each other’s hair before the evening was out. Yet you have no qualms whatever about telling each other the most intimately personal things about yourselves and (no doubt) your husbands. I read some place, the other day, “that God made women without a sense of humor so that they might love their husbands instead of laughing at them. - But I'm not a woman, and I can laugh at you, and am laughing at you. But it's not the kind of laughter that's born of ridicule, it's the sort that is born of appreciation for a good joke; and I maintain that it is a good joke. I mean that inconsistency that I just pointed out. Oh? You can't see anything funny about it? Well, as I was saying, God made women without a sense of humor - and besides, you're prejudiced:
I received Dot's long, lovely, and entirely heart-warming letter of 20 July the other day. It is the warmest, friendliest one she has, favored me with to date - and that is saying a good deal. I'm immensely flattered that she reciprocates the feeling I have for her so whole-heartedly. Evidently, her need for real friendship is as strong as my own, and I think we are both extremely fortunate in each other. I'll answer her first chance I get, 'cause it isn't the kind of missive one can, or wants to, ignore.
On the 24th, you tell me more about Mr. Bellet's business, about your Dad's work, etc. Then about your concern that you hadn't heard from Ed for several weeks, and about the kid across the street that was killed in action. I can well understand that you have had a most anxious time of it, Sweet, and my heart goes out to you, your Mom and all those people who are suffering the loss of loved ones. You well know the bitterness I feel on the wastage of so many lives snuffed out in their prime, but my sympathies are even stronger for the desolation that is caused the families and friends of those that fall in battle. War has long been my greatest hate, and try as I may, I just can't learn to take it for granted, as do so many of our professional soldiers. When I read about the transportation strike back there in Philly, and then think of what our guys are going through on so many battle-fields, I wonder at the callousness of some people. I’ll never understand how such people can live with themselves. It makes me so mad to read about things of this sort, that I almost hate myself for being of the same species. (Why they ever called it "homo sapiens" is beyond me - the latin translation is, literally, men of wisdom - sometimes I wonder!)
The 25th brought a letter from Ed to set your fears at rest, and your plea to me to write to him often. As you know, honey, I wrote to him a few days ago, and will keep writing just as often as I hear from him, or oftener, if I get the opportunity. Let's hope that we see an end to war to end the anxieties of all of us. Your tribute to your family for the help they've been giving you is well-deserved, I'm sure, and I endorse your sentiments most heartily. Your commendable practise of corresponding with all our boys in service reaps its own reward in the letters you receive from them, and I've already told you, Sweet, how much I admire you for it. So when you imply that it's too much for you when you say "What I should do is stop working as a secretary and hire one to help me out", I can only hope that you will see your way clear to continuing as you have been.
Glad you liked the snapshot I sent along, honey, but I think I've picked up some weight since it was taken. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep myself from gaining weight. Boy, what I wouldn't give to get back to the Broadwood and a few nights of hand-ball and swimming each week! That, incidentally, is the first thing I mean to do when I get home. Think I'll also go in for an intensive course of bar-bell work. I hate the idea of getting fat and sloppy, but there isn't much around here to prevent it, unless I elect to run around the camp in the morning. But I have all I can do to get out of bed of a morning, let alone going in for road-work. In the evening, I'm usually too tired and in need of relaxation. Once I get home, though, I do intend to keep in shape. I enjoyed it when I could do it playing hand-ball, swimming, and going a few rounds with the heavy bag at the Broadwood. I remember when we both used to go, Chippie, and I have a very dear recollection of how you looked in shorts and that brown pull-over sweater that you affected in the gym. You were certainly a trim filly in those days (and the last time I saw you, which was just a year ago yesterday, you didn't look much different.)
Mom came home from Brown's Mills on the 26th, which doesn't surprise me too much. I rather thought Harry would be sending for her sooner or later. However, if she chose to come at his bidding, that is her concern, and I'm not going to take sides in the matter even though I have some pretty definite convictions on that score. I hope you have the good sense not to make an issue of it, darling. That would only create dissension, and you must avoid that for the present at all costs. I think you grasp the underlying reason for my saying this.
And now, my darling, I must sign off. It is just 12:30 and I must get to bed if I'm to get any sleep before 4:45, when I must awake the cooks and K.P.s.
Good-night, sweetheart. All my love to you and the punkin. My love to all.
Ever,
Your Phil
Dearest Ev,
This is my first letter since 1 August. That means, Baby, that I have missed writing four days in a row. I think I explained in my last letter, Sweet, that I expected to be very busy all this week. But I had no real idea myself, at the time, how busy I would be. The fact is, I've been rushed to death ever since the 2nd. Seems as though all the work ganged up on me. Fortunately, I got a very lucky break. Two new men were assigned to the Company, and one (S/Sgt. Danner) has assisted me in getting out from under the mass of work. As it was, we managed to clean it up in three days. If it weren't for the unexpected help, I'd still be fussing around with war bond forms, allotments, soldiers' deposits, etc. Well, Chippie, on the 2nd and 3rd we worked steadily. I myself worked well into the evening on both those dates, and just couldn't find the time to write. On the 4th, I figured we were both entitled to some rest and relaxation, so I prevailed upon Sgt. Murphy to give us both 24 hour passes. Sgt. Danner has only been over here in the ETO a few weeks and I spent the pass showing him
CENSORED
We left on the evening of the 4th and returned last night, In that time, we had a very nice time seeing the shows, going thru the Castle, loafing in the park, drinking a few beers, etc. I won't go into all the details, Sweet, because I have six letters of yours to answer and I'm anxious to get at it. Suffice it to say that we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. I stopped in to see Bert Woolf and learned that he had just bought a boat. He was as happy about it as a kid with a new toy and wanted me to go out with him and spend the night on the river, or wherever it is that he has it moored. I wanted to go, but it was out of the question because I had to be back in Camp that night. I hope to see it another time, though. Evelyn is up and about again, but her feet are still giving her some trouble. Nigel Keith is fine. I'm enclosing the program of the play we saw. It was, as you see by the program, a farce, and we enjoyed it very much. The pictures we saw were "Battle for Music", which was the story of the trials and tribulations of the London Philharmonic Orchestra during those hectic days when the Luftwaffe was giving England all kinds of hell, and "Dinner at the Ritz", with Annabella, David Niven, Paul Lukas and others. The former was badly handled, and I don't suppose the great majority of the audience liked it very much, but I don't have to tell you that I loved it. The Orchestra played some lovely music, and that's all I needed. The other half of the double-feature was a suspenseful, well-directed, well played story of intrigue. Annabella is most attractive, and a very pleasing personality. David Niven made a very romantic and capable leading man. Paul Lukas is flawless as the villain of the piece. Outside of that, there isn't much more to tell. We ate at the Cups Hotel and slept at the Red Cross Club. Oh yes - the weather was just perfect all the while - it still is. This afternoon, because I am CQ tonight, I took in the matinee performance at the "Thunderbolt Theater". The film was that oldie "Robin Hood", with Errol Flynn and Olivia De Haviland" (remember?). I enjoyed it quite as much as the first time I saw it. Speaking of Errol Flynn reminds me of a mot I heard someplace the other day. I pass it along on the chance you haven't heard it yet. "My name is Errol Flynn - what's your hobby?” (Well, I think it's cute!) Now to get down to the business of answering your letters. They are those of 19, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26 July, and I loved every one of them. They arrived in bunches, and that's the way I read them - and did I have fun!
The one dated the 19th was written in a spare moment at the office - I should have said "typed". The only thing I learned from it was that Adele has four teeth in front and four 2 year molars to go to complete her full set of teeth - (and you still haven't told me that you have made an appointment with the dentist to have your own teeth examined). Which in turn reminds me that there are a good many things that I have asked you from time to time that you have failed to answer. I don't remember at the moment what they were, but I do remember wondering about it the other day. Please keep my letters handy when you are answering them, will you, Sweet?
Your V-Mail of the 21st was sent "as is" because you had not kept within the border. There is a notation on the form to that effect with the added admonition that I "advise (my) correspondent". I'm not sore, though, even if the P.M. is. In this one, you advise me that Dot read you my letter to her. Then you go on to say that you are "frightened to think "what (I) will be like when I resume "relations. with (you) after so long a time". I don't remember that I said anything in my letter to Dot to make you feel that way. Nor do I understand why you should feel that way at all. Of course, if you have a notion that I'll eat you up because I have gone so long without you, I can understand that, but do you think for a moment that I am fool enough to leave nothing for another "meal"? You needn't worry on that score, baby mine, 'cause I'm a very gentle guy at heart and can't conceive that I would be unduly ferocious oven under the provocative circumstances you describe. I'm well aware of your apprehension on the issue of becoming pregnant again, and your constant reiteration of your fear does not speak well for your faith in me or the promise I've made you numerous times before. As to your uncertainty in the matter of your own ability to cope with the matter, let me again assure you, honey-child, that you need have no fears on that score, either. You can trust me, as always, to have enough restraint for the both of us. Nor will any temporary weakness on your part influence me in the slightest. I think I have proved my sufficiency in that respect on more than one occasion. Gee, Chippie, just the memory of some of those "occasions" is almost more than I can bear. (C'mon sumpin’!)
Your second paragraph informs me that our daughter has progressed to the point where she takes her own food. Glad to hear it, Sweet, but I'd much rather see it. I note that you take "other peoples" advice in the matter of those pyrex bottles, but that you won't take Sarah's advice to see about Adele's legs now. Seems to me, you could do better if you reversed your decisions. The worse thing that could happen to the bottles is that they might be broken in shipment, but irreparable harm might be caused the punkin by delaying too long in putting her case before a specialist. Personally, I wouldn't want to assume the responsibility of deciding how long to wait in this case. My view is that it's never too soon to start corrective measures, but it could easily be too late. Think it over, Sweet, and then decide if you want to take that chance. Frankly, I couldn't - and wouldn't. If I could do anything to change your mind in the matter, I would. If there's anything wrong, I'd certainly want to know about it, and if the appearance of her legs excites comment from Sarah, then I think it's time we stopped indulging in wishful thinking and did something about it. To tell the truth, I'm more than a little sorry that we've put it off this long. If for no other reason than for my own peace of mind, Ev, I wish you would avail yourself of the most expert medical opinion you know how to obtain. I don't feel that we have the right to gamble with Adele's future, and that's what it amounts to. We owe it to her to do everything we can to insure her well-being, and I feel that we have already taken too many liberties in this matter. You know my wishes, Sweet; the decision is now yours to make - and the responsibility - remember that!
As for the pyrex bottles I asked you to send, I'm disappointed that you would place the loss of a dollar or two above the satisfaction I would derive in helping Evelyn out with these much needed items. I'm sure that if you wrapped them properly, and marked them plainly, that they would arrive O.K. Please re-consider, Honey, and listen to me instead of several people. Don't you think I thought about the likelihood of their being broken in shipment? Just the knowledge that we tried to procure them would have left me feeling a lot better about the whole thing, even if they did arrive in a broken state. If you can understand that, honey, you will oblige me in the matter, I'm sure.
Glad you thought the news was “wonderful" on the 21st, when certain elements of the German Army revolted and attempted to do away with hitler. You must be feeling very optimistic about now, what with the German Armies taking a terrific beating on all fronts, fighting among themselves, etc. We are all hoping for an early ending, and the general feeling is, that we won't be disappointed this time. (Phooey on your old ouija board). (1945 - phooey!)
Your very pleasing letter of the 23rd tells all about your weekend visit with Dot. I'm delighted you got the chance to relax, Ev, and I'm no end grateful to Dot for providing the means. I'm glad, too that the punkin comported herself like a little lady and made it possible for you to really enjoy yourself. What I wouldn't give to know exactly what you and Dot had to say to each other! I'll bet both Snuff and I would be acutely embarrassed to hear the conversation and the confidences. You gals slay me with your inconsistencies. Just consider what would happen if Dot showed up at some affair wearing a duplicate of your newest dress that you had just gotten for the occasion (or vice versa). Hell, you'd probably be tearing each other’s hair before the evening was out. Yet you have no qualms whatever about telling each other the most intimately personal things about yourselves and (no doubt) your husbands. I read some place, the other day, “that God made women without a sense of humor so that they might love their husbands instead of laughing at them. - But I'm not a woman, and I can laugh at you, and am laughing at you. But it's not the kind of laughter that's born of ridicule, it's the sort that is born of appreciation for a good joke; and I maintain that it is a good joke. I mean that inconsistency that I just pointed out. Oh? You can't see anything funny about it? Well, as I was saying, God made women without a sense of humor - and besides, you're prejudiced:
I received Dot's long, lovely, and entirely heart-warming letter of 20 July the other day. It is the warmest, friendliest one she has, favored me with to date - and that is saying a good deal. I'm immensely flattered that she reciprocates the feeling I have for her so whole-heartedly. Evidently, her need for real friendship is as strong as my own, and I think we are both extremely fortunate in each other. I'll answer her first chance I get, 'cause it isn't the kind of missive one can, or wants to, ignore.
On the 24th, you tell me more about Mr. Bellet's business, about your Dad's work, etc. Then about your concern that you hadn't heard from Ed for several weeks, and about the kid across the street that was killed in action. I can well understand that you have had a most anxious time of it, Sweet, and my heart goes out to you, your Mom and all those people who are suffering the loss of loved ones. You well know the bitterness I feel on the wastage of so many lives snuffed out in their prime, but my sympathies are even stronger for the desolation that is caused the families and friends of those that fall in battle. War has long been my greatest hate, and try as I may, I just can't learn to take it for granted, as do so many of our professional soldiers. When I read about the transportation strike back there in Philly, and then think of what our guys are going through on so many battle-fields, I wonder at the callousness of some people. I’ll never understand how such people can live with themselves. It makes me so mad to read about things of this sort, that I almost hate myself for being of the same species. (Why they ever called it "homo sapiens" is beyond me - the latin translation is, literally, men of wisdom - sometimes I wonder!)
The 25th brought a letter from Ed to set your fears at rest, and your plea to me to write to him often. As you know, honey, I wrote to him a few days ago, and will keep writing just as often as I hear from him, or oftener, if I get the opportunity. Let's hope that we see an end to war to end the anxieties of all of us. Your tribute to your family for the help they've been giving you is well-deserved, I'm sure, and I endorse your sentiments most heartily. Your commendable practise of corresponding with all our boys in service reaps its own reward in the letters you receive from them, and I've already told you, Sweet, how much I admire you for it. So when you imply that it's too much for you when you say "What I should do is stop working as a secretary and hire one to help me out", I can only hope that you will see your way clear to continuing as you have been.
Glad you liked the snapshot I sent along, honey, but I think I've picked up some weight since it was taken. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep myself from gaining weight. Boy, what I wouldn't give to get back to the Broadwood and a few nights of hand-ball and swimming each week! That, incidentally, is the first thing I mean to do when I get home. Think I'll also go in for an intensive course of bar-bell work. I hate the idea of getting fat and sloppy, but there isn't much around here to prevent it, unless I elect to run around the camp in the morning. But I have all I can do to get out of bed of a morning, let alone going in for road-work. In the evening, I'm usually too tired and in need of relaxation. Once I get home, though, I do intend to keep in shape. I enjoyed it when I could do it playing hand-ball, swimming, and going a few rounds with the heavy bag at the Broadwood. I remember when we both used to go, Chippie, and I have a very dear recollection of how you looked in shorts and that brown pull-over sweater that you affected in the gym. You were certainly a trim filly in those days (and the last time I saw you, which was just a year ago yesterday, you didn't look much different.)
Mom came home from Brown's Mills on the 26th, which doesn't surprise me too much. I rather thought Harry would be sending for her sooner or later. However, if she chose to come at his bidding, that is her concern, and I'm not going to take sides in the matter even though I have some pretty definite convictions on that score. I hope you have the good sense not to make an issue of it, darling. That would only create dissension, and you must avoid that for the present at all costs. I think you grasp the underlying reason for my saying this.
And now, my darling, I must sign off. It is just 12:30 and I must get to bed if I'm to get any sleep before 4:45, when I must awake the cooks and K.P.s.
Good-night, sweetheart. All my love to you and the punkin. My love to all.
Ever,
Your Phil
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