Dearest Phil,
Today, after an eight day wait, I finally received "a" letter! At the moment, I am so very utterly disgusted with you, that I could scream. I was terribly disappointed, so much so that I can't shake off the mood. I would not write at all, but I've swallowed disappointment after disappointment and apology and apology until I want no more. Your v-mail, dated March 1, was the first inkling I had that you had even taken a furlough. The last letter I received from you, some eight odd days ago, was dated Feb. 14th and a 22 page letter, all at once, just won't make up for the time lost. Phil, when you see people all around you getting mail regularly, and knowing that they had mail up to March 2nd, what would you feel? Why is it so necessary for you to be apologizing to me so constantly for not writing? A short letter daily would be more welcome than any 22 page letter, after I've eaten my heart out daily with anxiety waiting for the letter to arrive. No thank you, I'll take the regular mail any day. Besides I don't usually have the time to write a lengthy letter in response and I dislike when queries go unanswered. By the time you answer some of my queries I've just about forgotten what I'd asked you and they are stale. I keep making excuses for you to myself, but even that doesn't help any more. All I know is that I don’t write unless I'm physically not able to or I don't want to, preferring to do something else and let the writing go, which is not the case with me. I'm tired of writing to a blank wall and I don't care to do so any more. I'm sure you have been receiving my letters at regular intervals without too much of a break in between and if I can't have yours the same way without this eternal waiting, waiting, waiting until my nerves want to crack, then I'm simply not going to write. Guess I filled this sheet pretty much to capacity already and rather than end it on a sour note, I shall let it go at that.
Mr. Bellet went to New York for the day and we had a very full, quiet day for a change. He ought to do it more often and give his employees, a break. I wonder if he'll keep his promise about the gift. He was so deadly serious, but most people usually sound better than their actions indicate.
We had another clear, sunny day that was bright, but cold. I went to work a little earlier and actually enjoyed working today. I felt so disgusted with you that tears came to my eyes before I realized just how badly I felt. Tell me, so I correct whatever misgivings you find in me or do I keep on making apologies for them?
There were no questions in your v-mail that I could answer and I shall await arrival of your 22 pager, hoping that it will not take weeks to arrive and that there will be other mail to accompany it. I'm glad you liked the snap of Adele in profile, but I can't see how you could possibly like the one of me, because it was very poor. Adele is beginning to get into everything and I think It would be good idea if I got her to bed. Good night, baby, I love you so much and want to ask you a special favor. Don't let me down like that again! I don't like it.
Your Eve
9 March 1945
Darling Chippie,
Just have time enough to dash off a few lines tonight before taking off for the movies, and then a concert at the Aero Club. The picture tonight is “Arsenic and Old Lace.” If it’s anything like what I heard about the play, then it must be worth seeing. The concert will be played by a trio using antique instruments, and should prove interesting.
It just occurred to me, Sweet, that this will reach you on or about our 4th anniversary. I’ll be missing you more than ever, baby, when 20th of March rolls around, and I’ll be remembering some of the happier times we had together, and recalling that all-pervading sense of contentment that I know when we were inseparable—that made our life together so wonderfully happy. Ev, dearest, if being away from you so long has taught me nothing else, it has taught me that there is nothing in this world as precious to me as your love. Without it, life would be meaningless and without attraction. It is the hope that I will one day return to it and you that sustains me ever in the monotony and drudgery of my daily routine. Never, for a moment have I ever thought of you, my darling, without being conscious of a feeling of wonder at my unbelievably good fortune in being able to win your love. Little did I realize, my Evvie, that on that dream-like evening of March 20, 1941 I was securing to myself a wife that would, in the next few years, endear herself more to me than she ever did as my sweetheart. (Truthfully, Sweet, I couldn’t perceive how that might be possible—then.) Sometimes, Chippie, I find myself wondering if you can ever possibly know the fullest extent of my love for you—if you could ever actually feel exactly how I think about you—
In closing, a loving kiss and hug for our very own punkin, bless her! My love to the Moms, and all the Strongins and Pallers. Remember me to our friends the neighbors. Above all, be very sure that I am
Your Phil
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