Tuesday, August 3, 2021

Post #390 - June 11, 1944 Bert Wolf, as Closely as I Can Judge, is in His Early Thirties, as is Evelyn, His Wife

 11 June 1944

Darling Eve,

Last night, for the first time in weeks I left the station. Klein drives the bus on the officers' Liberty Run. A few weeks back, he had met a young Jewish couple in a nearby town, and he had spoken very highly of them. When I expressed a wish to meet them, he readily agreed to introduce me. Last night, the opportunity presented itself, so I went along with him. That is why, Sweet, I didn't write.

The people I met were even nicer than Klein had led me to believe. Bert Wolf, as closely as I can judge, is in his early thirties, as is Evelyn, his wife. Bert is slim, dark, and vivacious, (if one can apply the adjective to a man). Evelyn is short blond, and pregnant. Of the two, if I’m any judge, she is the dominating character. Her kid sister, Rita, who lives with them, is about sixteen, has a pretty face, and a short, dumpy figure. Klein calls her "Thunderbolt" because of the latter feature, but she is as broad in the mind as she is in the beam, and doesn't seem to mind. They have a tiny shop on the “main drag" of the town, where they sell military accessories insignia, etc. Apparently, they do O.K. 'cause they have a very nice home in the suburbs (even as judged by American standards.) Bert is a vegetable gardener, and proudly showed us his strawberries, currants, peas, crocuses, plum trees, and a few other varieties I’ve forgotten. Klein takes a perverse joy in baiting Bert on everything British, but he outdid himself on his comments on his garden. Bert, though, takes it all in good spirit. There was another G.I. there, a guy named Harry, from Cicero, Illinois. While Evelyn and Rita busied themselves in the kitchen, Klein put records on the radio-phono, and Bert undertook to teach Harry and me the game of “Solo". It is a British game resembling Bridge. Supper was a treat: Bacon, two fried eggs, tomatoes, mashed potatoes, cabbage, cottage cheese with scallions (a concession to Klein's taste—but delicious), picalilly, toast + butter, and coffee and cake—and sweets (candy). I enjoyed the meal immensely, but no more than I did the unaffected friendliness of my hosts. They are really a swell couple, and I was grateful for the privilege of meeting them. They asked me to come again, whenever I got the opportunity. I certainly mean to! Oh yes, they have a relative in Phila. His name is Reese, and he has an antique shop on Pine street (they don't know the address.) See if you can find him in the phone-book. You might give him a call, if you choose.

Today was spent making up the payroll. I didn't quite finish it, but I will tomorrow morning. I'm pretty weary this evening, Sweet—You’d be surprised how much concentration is required in making the payroll—there are a million and one things one must keep in mind.)—so I thought I would turn in early tonight.

There was no mail for me either last night or tonight. Hope there's some tomorrow— Wonder when I'll receive the package containing the pictures.

Good-night, sweet Chippie. I adore you. Please kiss Adele for me. My love to all.

Your own

June 11, 1944

Dear Phil:

Snuff got his notice to leave on the 24th for the Navy. It has been more or less expected, but it doesn’t make it any pleasanter.

Again I say loads of luck to you as you will probably need it.

If you get a chance, go see “Up in Arms.” It is really quite entertaining.

Am still waiting for the baby’s pictures so that I can send you a few.

As ever,