I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
Tuesday, December 27, 2022
Post #684 - July 23, 1945 I'd Like Very Much to Come Home at My Old Weight - 176
23 July 1945
You'll have to forgive me if the writing is a little out of whack. This evening Klein and I rode down to the base gym to play some hand-ball. Yes, we even have a hand-ball court here on the base. We played two good games, Klein winning the first 21-16, while I took the second 21-5. It has been a few years since either of us has played the game. As a consequence, Klein has a strained shoulder muscle, and my right hand is so swelled up, that I can hardly hold the pen to write. We showered just now, and aside from the inconveniences aforementioned, we're feeling fresh and fit. What's more, we intend to play a few times each week so that we'll be in good physical trim when we come home. Last time I was in London, I weighed 186, which is just ten pounds more than I like to weigh. I'd like very much to come home at my old weight - 176, and I think that if we play three or four times each week for the six or eight weeks that remains before we head for the states, I should make that weight easily. I know you'll applaud my efforts in this direction, honey. I only hope it will have the desired result. So much for that.—We're still having perfectly lovely weather. It is warm and sunny all day. In the evening, it gets nice and cool - perfect for sleeping.
Your V-mail of 17 July arrived yesterday. The high-spot in this one was Adele's remark: "Jesus Tist, it's still rainin'!” I think it's the cutest crack she ever made. It tickled me. Yesterday, too, I went to the station theater to see "The Dough-girls", with Ann Sheridan, Alexis Smith, Jane Wyman, Jack Carson, Charlie Ruggles and others. It was forced and silly in spots, but it was highly amusing on the whole, and I enjoyed it immensely. Today, which was spent mainly on transcribing the Squadron payroll, brought your V-mail of 18 July. I was pleased no end, darling, to note that you are writing almost daily again. I’ll try to get back into the habit if it's at all possible. In this one (your V-mail) you recall some of the noteworthy things that happened to us on various 23 Septembers. Your memory for dates continues to amaze me, but I don't think much of your memory for detail; viz., you mentioned the time Sam and I had dates and picked you up later. You say you were angry and annoyed with me (I'm sure I don't know why), but that you relented when I pulled (you) across the seat of the car into (my) arms: The implication you make here is that I used force to impose my will on you. I object! Never - I repeat - never, to my knowledge, did I ever have to “pull” you into my arms. I remember that night and its attending circumstances as tho’ it was yesterday, and I remember how pleased I was that you gave every indication of pleasure in my company - yes, and in my arms. Nor did you give any indication that you found my embraces and kisses distasteful - quite the contrary, my Sweet! - And if you were “angry and annoyed" with me, you certainly didn't show it by any word or action! Like you sweetheart, I'd dearly love to relive those moments - and you can bet your sweet life we will - probably a lot sooner than you are imagining!
Once again, baby, must I say a fond good night to you. It's just about time for "lights out"." Here's a coupla dozen kisses to hold you until ~ and some more for the punkin. My love to all.
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