Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Post #292 - February 11, 1944 Someday We May be Mighty Grateful for All It Taught Us and Some Day, Sweet, I’ll be in a Position to Tell You Some of the More Interesting Aspects of “War”


February 11, 1944

Darling Phil, 

Today we had a small blizzard. I was supposed to go to Miss Hahns this morning, but had no intentions of going out into a blizzard to do so. She rearranged her day so that I could go this afternoon instead. I’ve thought of something I'd like very much to have for a third anniversary—a stripe, a repetition of our second anniversary gift—if it's at all possible. I started the second paragraph with Ruth’s pen—or did you note difference. 

While waiting for the bus, I met Mr. Weiss, formerly of the candy store, at 7th and Louden and he asked me to send his regards. We chatted a short while about the Strongin boys. An oncoming car lost control and skidded all over 10th St. before regaining control. 

I borrowed a book from the neighbors—a best seller—”A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.” I hope to read it shortly. I understand it's very risqué with lots of descriptive language. Yeh, man! 

Now that I've got those few irrelevant subjects off my chest (lest I forget), I can relax. Still up to my old tricks, did you say? I'm used to getting mail regularly and miss your daily communique keenly. I find it difficult to write without a letter from you at my side. I was awakened by “Her Majesty” several times last night—on second thought, I'd better not complain, for she did her ablutions, etc. in the bathroom, instead of her bed. I arose at 7, dressed us both, gave us breakfast, cleaned “our” room, the dining room and living room, washed a few personal pieces, etc. Miss Hahn had saved her important work for me and was disappointed, to say the least. I made arrangements for Ruth to take care of Adele when she got home from school, and worked from 1 to 5. Anne ordered the stationery I bought in blue with blue printing. Sarah took care of Adele til Ruth came. Adele has acquired a mind of her own, and it's difficult to swerve her train of thought. She is determined and when refused takes a tantrum of sorts, by laying down on the floor (rear raised) and bawling for all she's worth. I pay no attention to her at these times. When such is the case, she looks to someone else for sympathy. Not so dumb, eh? She was over-elated to see me and when I put her down, only to remove my outer clothes, she clung to me for fear I would go away. I'm surprised Miss Hahn had any use for me at this late date and I'm sure she will not need me again. Her business has slumped, and I'm only an overhead she really cannot afford at this time. Perhaps there will be one or two more occasions, though I doubt it. Hope that covers any illusions you may have had. Don't worry, Sweet, I don't go out of my way to leave Adele—I hate to. There is another question—what are we supposed to do about our income tax? Is it alright for me to fill it out, if I can? It's a complicated mess, that I detest. Hm—maybe poetry is my line. 

Mom is leery about receiving your allotment. I said she required approximately $60 to live, as previously I had written approximately $140.00 for her, Adele and myself. If she should continue to receive the allotment as she did last month, ($37 from Jack and $20 from you), where would Harry shine in (from their standpoint). I stated our income as follows: 
    Harry $120  Goldie—I explained about her in the “remarks” 
    Mom $20 (from Jack) plus $62 for Adele and me
The form asked your contribution to her. I merely put “total earnings” $120, and board, etc. $120 meaning that you contributed your entire income to the upkeep of the house and its occupants for I do hope everything favors continuation of the allotment for her. 

I'm wondering whether or not Dottie will postpone our visit this Sunday due to the nasty weather. 

Mr. Weiss was telling me that Phila. will be the APO for all packages due for shipment overseas. Good ole Philly is gettin’ places or is it? 

After “talkin’” to you awhile, I get very lonesome. I want to cuddle up and feel you close. Oh God, please make it soon! I never cease wishing—that's about all I do these days. I love you, looks good enough on paper, yet I want, as you do, to tell you or even show you. I'm not going to let you out of my sight for a second when I do get you back, sweet. Don't think me queer if I persist when you are home to keep you ever before my eyes, for I know I shall. I dreamt of you all night (or whenever “Her Majesty” permitted) and you were close and I touched you, yes, really touched you and that feeling of deliciousness has kept me in a reverie all day long. Again, I repeat—I adore you my sweet, more and more as the times between us grows. That is our compensation for our long wait and who knows, someday we may be mighty grateful for all it taught us. A warm, heart-given kiss from 

Your Eve 

February 11, 1944 

My Darling Chippie, 

Today, just when I was more or less expecting a pile of mail—nothing! C’mon tomorrow! Finished up on the payroll this afternoon. Tomorrow I'll take care of the Officer’s pay vouchers and the most pressing business of the month will be completed. I mention this because I want you to know that I will be leaving for London on the 11th with a clear head and nothing on my conscience. Now if both Eddie and Izzy will show up, everything will be hunky dory. 

Nothing new to report tonight, Sweet. Life is strangely uncomplicated around here, as I've told you repeatedly. When something out of the ordinary does happen, and there are “incidents,” occasionally, we are permitted to talk about it. By the same token, the work we are doing—the very reason for our being here, is impossible of enlarging upon without risking the displeasure of the censors. Therefore, while I would very much like to tell you what “our” planes and “our” boys are doing, (and they're doing O.K.), I have to settle for nondescript items of news—such as what I had for lunch, the unexciting routine of the Orderly Room, etc., etc. Someday, Sweet, I'll be in a position to tell you some of the more interesting aspects of “war as she is fought in the ETO.” Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to be content with my usual dull brand of blather. 

I always leave an inch or two at the bottom of the form to bid you a fond good-night, and to remind you to give my love to the punkin, to the folks, to remember me to all our friends and neighbors, and finally that I am, indubitably 

Your Phil
(or had you noticed?)