Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Post #379 - May 31, 1944 I Have it from Various Sources that Mail from England is Frozen and The Most Beautiful Sunset is the Most Disturbing


May 31, 1944

Dearly Beloved,

It is now 13 days without mail and I have it from various sources that mail from England is frozen. What the devil is wrong now??? Can't the army ever do anything right? Holding up mail is the most disgusting thing they could do, and it's about time they had some system. I'm fed up to the ears with the Army and its red tape methods.

Now for something really interesting. I let Adelel set alone the other night. I'm not letting her do it full time - just giving her tryouts at various intervals. She ate a cup of jello alone (you should have seen her when she finished) - I think there was more jello on her than in her. She had a marvelous time and would have made a repeat performance had I had another cup of jello on hand. She has learned to wipe her mouth with her bib when she has completed her meal. However, occasions do arise when the bib isn't handy, at which time she simply pulls up her dress and uses it in like manner. What a kid!!

And more important! My dad managed to get me an alarm clock from his boss. I didn't care whether it was an alarm clock or not - I only wanted a clock. It's black plastic, round shape and very nice for the $1.10 wholesale price. It sells for $1.65 plus tax.

I spoke to Lil this evening and she, like Dr. Gayl, doesn't think I should bother about Adele's feet at present. So, I think I'll let the matter drop for the time being. Adele’s present shoes are short in the toe and I hope I will be able to land a pair next week. Baby shoes should be much longer than the foot and not fit as yours and mine do. Here's hopin’!

It was very it was very hot all day long and I'm hoping I'll get some sleep tonight. Adele was wonderful last night, and I'm also hoping for the same reactions. I did quite a bit in the way of housework and even managed to finally put the initials on the sweater I made for Stuart.

Mom is getting a girl to clean the two back rooms so that Goldie and Harry may switch rooms with her. They're going to take the back room with the twin beds (they want to sleep separately) and Mom will take the middle room as before. Goldie has but nine days to go. Mom kept saying that she would have the baby in May, while I kept saying she’d hold out for June 9th. We shall see!

I'm going to work for Miss Hahn tomorrow. Tomorrow is payday - the best day of the month as far as I'm concerned, 'cause I have to wait so long for it. I'll still take the weekly system and you, baby, any day. What do you say, sweet? Guess what? You would! Sure I love you and always will be

Your Eve

31 May 1944


Dearest Evvie, 

Today was pay-day, and before I get into a card-game, I thought I'd better get the daily letter off my mind, so I can concentrate on what I'm doing. 

This morning, as I told you yesterday, I was busy compiling the company history for the past month. I didn't have time to continue with it this afternoon, due to the hustle and bustle of getting the company paid. About four o'clock, I developed a bad headache, and went back to the hut to sleep it off. I must have started to dream immediately. Most naturally, I met you here on the base. I say naturally, because in my dream it didn't seem the least bit odd that you were here. We had an understanding that I was to meet you and take you to the Base Theater to see "White Cargo" (which happens to be showing today). Inexplicably, on my way to 

meet you, I became immersed in the midst of a mob. When I extricated myself, I saw you standing in front of a store window, - don't ask me where the store window is to be found around here - I wouldn't know. Anyhow, Chippie, I saw you as plainly as I could possibly describe. It shocked me that you had neglected to apply powder and lipstick. Your dress struck me as looking exceedingly drab; your hair, darker and more lustrous than I remember it, was tied up in small blue ribbons, giving you a most unprepossessing appearance. Moreover, as I approached you, I was aware that you were very angry with me for showing up late (ironical, isn't it?). Wordlessly, 

you fell into step beside me, and the next thing I knew we were trudging along over 

these very fields on our way to the movies, (All this without a word between us.) In the distance, some kids were playing around with two muzzled dogs. Suddenly, the 

dogs made a dash for us. I told you not to be frightened, calling attention to the fact that they were securely muzzled. The dogs came on, and were soon upon us, jumping up on us and making themselves a nuisance. Out of nowhere, a big, ugly brute, wearing a shirt open at the throat, and a sloppy looking pair of trousers, came into the picture. He grabbed hold of one of the dogs, and approaching you, urged him to commit an indignity on you (imagine!). This infuriated me. I pushed you away from the dog and the low character holding him, and lashed out at him, catching him fair on the jaw, Usually, in a dream, when I am fighting, I find it next to impossible 

to lift my arms. You know the sensation of trying to run away from something horrible in a dream, only to find that your legs just won't cooperate? Well, much the 

same thing happens to my arms when I need them most in a dream. I just can't seem to move them as I would want to. Not this time, though, 'cause I very satisfyingly proceeded, with great finesse, and with no waste of time whatever, to cut that ugly face to ribbons with my fists. Never, in a dream, or otherwise, have I ever enjoyed a fight so much. In no time at all, the big hulk lay stretched on his back before me. The last thing I remember, is that we were alone again, still trudging across the fields in the direction of the movies - and you were still too sore at me to  talk. We never did get to the movies, 'cause at this point, I awoke. 

You are, Chippie, no doubt wondering why I take the trouble to recount such 

a silly dream. The simple truth is - I didn't know what else to write. Hope I haven't 

bored you too completely. 

The weather today was lovely. Lovely weather is much appreciated by every one over here - we get so little of it. However, for some weeks now, we've had an  unbroken stretch of clear, sunny skies. Only on a few occasions has it been too 

warm for comfort. The country hereabouts is doubly attractive in the Spring sun, 

and I wish most heartily that you could see it, darling. Walking to mess, one is 

often met by the sweet perfume of unseen flowers. The occasional whiff of sweet 

clover is just too distressingly familiar to be entirely welcome. It brings with it an almost intolerable sense of homesickness. Too many things that inspire by their beauty have the same effect on me. Thus it is, that the most beautiful sunset is the most disturbing. If you wonder at this, dearest, I don't. Deep within me, is the unalterable conviction, call it an instinct if you will, that beauty, as such, doesn't exist for me, unless I can share it with you. In our present state, it's very "incompleteness" is a source of regret amounting almost to remorse. My inability to react normally to beauty in any form, is, in all likelihood, the same effect you mean when you write that you feel "dead". If such is the case, then you know only too well, dearest one, what I am trying to convey. 

Good-night for now, my lovely - the radio is giving out at the moment with “My Heart Tells Me" - better sign off real quick before I weep great, salty tears all over this nice clean paper. I love you dearly, my Eve, and in spite of the conflict of the spirit I suffer because of my love for you, and my need of you, I'll be eternally grateful for it. My dearest love to our sweeter than sweet punkin, the precious Adele Bara. My love to all. 


Your Phil