Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Post #466 - September 26, 1944 Syd Wrote Not to Expect Him Home After the War in Europe is Over and They are having a Feast in Colchester Tomorrow Evening to Break the Fast (Yom Kippur), and I Would Love to Be There

 











Sept. 26, 1944

My Sweet,

No mall again today and I'm sort of looking forward to tomorrow morning already, hoping there will be some mail. There isn't much to report for Yom Kippur Eve. I went to work at 10, arriving there at 10:30 and worked until 4:45. When I got home I ironed a stack of clothes that had piled up and then had supper. Fay dropped over with Marky and I brought Adele over from my mother’s. They played a while and then Fay and Marky took their leave. Adele got a bath, a warm glass of milk, a kiss and then to bed -

I met Emma on my way to work and she rode nearly the whole way with me. She was in Georgia with Phil for two and a half days and it cost her $120 for the trip, plus her food, room, etc. She said she would stay there, but Phil doesn't get any time off and so it wouldn't pay. She said he is crazy about school.

I wrote a letter to Snuff after I finished writing to you last night and I feel immensely relieved, for it was my first communication to him, after having received two from him.

By the way. I don't think I told you that Tante Bosh told me that Syd wrote her not to expect him home when the War in Europe is over - that he'll come home together with Milt. It seems that most of the boys write that and I guess most of them think they will be transferred to the Pacific, or know so.

The weather changed a little today; it wasn't quite as cold as it had been heretofore. Adele was out with my mother and Ruth all day and had bright red rosy cheeksl Gosh but she's a little wild Indian! She's into everything! But she is so cute! Just for the hell of it I measured her yesterday evening and found that she is between 34-1/2 and 35 inches tall. I'm not able to be accurate due to the fact that Adele would not stand still long enough to allow me to determine her exact height. However, she's almost three feet tall and that's pretty tall.

Guess who just this minute walked in - Emma and Shirley - So I'll have to sign off now, honey, for I've been bawling them out for not so calling on me long before this, so now I must be a polite hostess. Hope you won't mind too much, sweet, and besides, I'm just about "writ out".

Not so much so that I can't tell you that I love you, honey, that I adore you - in fact, I kinda am "that" way about you - oh, baby, if only you. were here now - what I feel like doing to you - A big hug and a couple of hundred kisses from your ever loving

Eve



26 September 1944

Sweetheart,

Another very busy day for me, and here I am at the end of it to answer some more of your letters. There was no new mail today, but because I still have five of your letters unanswered, I was almost glad of the fact. Notice - I said almost glad. Today, the eve of Yom Kippur, was lovely. It called to mind the Indian Summer weather I used to know as a boy. I had planned to go to town this evening for services, but Sgt. Murphy is away on pass, so I just can't take off. They are having a feast in Colchester tomorrow evening to break the fast, and I would love to be there, but Sgt. Murphy doesn't get back til late - so I guess I'll just have to pass it up. Now to your letters. - 

On the 11th you advised me that you had received two of my letters and the brooch. I'm most pleased that you like it, Baby, and you’re entirely welcome, I assure you. Wear it in the best of health. You may promise Ruth for me that I will get her that insignia the very next time I’m in town. Tell her, too, how sorry I am that I never got the chance to answer her last few letters, but that I appreciated them just the same. 

About our little radio—. Under no conditions must you sell it. It was a gift, and being a sentimentalist at heart, I don't like the idea of parting with it. Have it fixed if possible, and if Mom and Harry are willing to chip in. Otherwise, pack it up and put it away. I'm glad you consulted me in the matter, honey, ’cause I'd have been very highly peeved if you had sold it without asking my permission. I'm even happier that you wrote to Bert and Evelyn and got those bottles and nipples. Bert is socking his money away for a trip to America after the war is over; naturally, I have extended him the warmest of invitations to stay with us, when and if they do make the trip. 

No, sweet, i haven't seen "White Cliffs of Dover yet, but I will. Glad you enjoyed it, honey. Did you think of me while having that ice-cream at Ben's after the show? 

You say that Sy wrote to inform you that he is stationed on the U.S.S. New Yorker. What is it, a battleship, destroyer, or what? Or wasn’t he permitted to say? Stop wondering where he’ll “wind up". He'll probably see something of every country in the world before he returns to civvies. And he's just young enough to find it all very thrilling, so don't feel too sorry for him.

It pleases me more than you know, Chippie, when you write that you receive mail so regularly from Syd, Phil, Glo, Jack N., and Milt, not to mention Jack S., Seymour, Eddie and myself. It proves that I'm not the only one who appreciates you, Baby. Keep up the good work! I only wish I could write as often! And thanks for Phil's address - I'll try to make use of it. As for his "mazel” - don't tell anybody, but I’m not so sure he's so fortunate in his new job. We shall see. 

You mention Gloria's intention to visit us on the 23rd Sep., and want to know if that date means anything to me. It sho 'nuff does, honey. On 23rd Sep/42 at about 8 P.M. I left you for the second time to go on active service with the Army. I'll never forget how low I felt all the way down to Ft. Meade. Did I ever tell you how I almost died of loneliness that first night? The future was so black and uncertain at that time that I almost despaired of ever seeing you again (although I did everything I could to keep you from knowing and feeling my despondency at the time). Nowadays, when I think back to those unhappy, and uncertain days, I invariably thank God that they are far behind us; that we are now looking forward to our re-union rather than our separation. Yes, sweetheart, we have much to be thankful for, but that difference in prospects is not the least of our blessings.

The news that Mill came through his skirmishing against the japs without a scratch, and with a number of kills to his credit was indeed welcome. May the fates deal as kindly with him henceforth! My love to Tante Bosh and Uncle Nish. May God on this Yom Kippur eve hear my prayer that their sons be returned to them speedily and unscathed.

Al long last - the answer to my oft-repeated question! Now that I know how it feels to hug the punkin, and to be hugged by her, I won't be quite so impatient—or will I be more so? That remains to be seen. From your description, Sweet, I would say it doesn't feel much different from embracing your own "soft, smooth, and cuddly" charms. You say she kisses you on the lips just as I would, and then tease me with "Now, ain't you jealous, etc.”? Just how do you mean that? Do you mean jealous of Adele kissing you, or you kissing Adele? In either case, I’m not jealous of either of you - so there now! (I sure am green with envy, tho!!) Besides, how could I be “jealous" after the wonderful compliment you so artlessly (or was it? artless, I mean) paid me in the very first sentence of your description. I mean when you say " next to a love of man and woman and their embrace there is no more beautiful feeling than the arms of a child." Taking it for granted that you are talking about you and I ("us") when you say "man and woman, how can I feel jealous where you give Adele's embrace second place? No, Chippie, you'll have to think of something else if you really want to make me jealous. (Don't think too hard now, vixen!)

Tell me, sweet, just what does one have to do to make the punkin give out with “top it!"

Your paragraph about making an outfit for Diana Jean makes me wonder if you are fixing to make the sweater after the pattern I sent you. (While I think of it, I'll enclose the other three)

To conclude your letter of the 11th, you ask me if you should continue to work ’til I come home, or quit before I come home. Now you must realize that that is an odd question, Chippie. In the first place, it makes me wonder what prompted it. In the second place, not knowing your reasons for asking that particular question at this time, I am not in a position to form an opinion, much less advise you what to do. And in the third place, why do you even bother to ask me when you know very well that you will do exactly as you decide for yourself in the matter, in spite of anything I may say. So, while I cannot advise you, I certainly am most anxious to know why you are considering giving up your job. Please, Chippie, tell pappa what cooks, will you?

Your V-mail of the 14th elicits no comment - period.

Your V-mail of the 15th advises me that you managed to get those pyrex bottles and nipples - for which many thanks and an extra special kiss for being so nice about what must have been a pretty thankless task for you. But I'm sure Evelyn's gratitude and mine will repay you for your trouble. You already have mine, honey. Evelyn's will be forthcoming, I'm sure.

Happy to learn that you got a chance to rest up over the holidays, Sweet. You have been working yourself too hard there of late, and you know how I deplore that tendency in you.

Your paragraph about your job in this one is so at odds with itself that I get dizzy trying to figure out exactly what you do mean. 

Some day, Baby, I will buy you that watch you covet. I've known about this particular yen of yours for some time now, nor have I forgotten it.

On the 16th you wrote another of those V-mails (double-spaced) that fill up the paper, but little more. Ever hear that parable, honey, that goes "as ye sow, so shall ye reap"? It applies here, ’cause it excites no comment. (hint for future consideration). I don’t know who started this business of double-spacing, but I do know that I cut it out when I realized how distasteful it was to me, and therefore must be to you. It has come to have the significance to me of a tacit confession that you don't have much of any consequence to impart. When I tear open the envelope on a V-mail and see that it's double-spaced, my spirits droop immediately, 'cause I know there isn't much of anything in it. (After six pages I can afford to talk like this.) Anyhow, Ev, sweetheart, I would suggest that you single space even if you have to leave half the page blank. Ketch?

Your V-mail of the 17th is also double-spaced, and aside from learning that Jean may be going overseas; that you had a good night's rest for a change, that you did a little sewing, a little cleaning, etc.; and various other trivia, I gleaned very little more of interest from it. I realize, honey, that your routine isn't exactly exciting most days, and I don't mean to deprecate your activities in any way, but I would appreciate it if you'd cut out that's damn double-spacing. 'Nuff said?

And that, darling, just about answers all your letters.

It is now exactly 10:20 by the CQ's watch (mine has stopped), so if I’m going to get to bed before "lights out" t'd better sign off right here and now. Thanks for listening, Sweet. I know you know I love you above everything in the world, but I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't tell you so tonight, so - let me hold you very close, my darling, so I may kiss first your throat; then your lips; next, your eyelids, and finally, your lips once more. Altogether, they mean I love you". Only you and I know how much! My dearest love to Adele Bara Strongin (excuse the formality) I just wanted to see how the name looks written out. Before I go entirely whacky au revoir, ma cherie. Love to all from

Your Phil 

P.S. Sorry, honey, but this will be too bulky to include the other patterns. I’ll send them tomorrow.


September 26, 1944

Dear Phil, 

No doubt you will be surprised to hear from me, but better late than never. I just took time out today to write letters to all I should have written to a long time ago. However, Evelyn keeps you informed about everything, so there isn't much news for me to write. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful flowers you sent me on Mother's Day, also, card and phone message. I know that you will believe me, even though I don't write, that you are always in my mind. Phil, dear, you know I am always busy. To be frank with you, my busy moments would be very dull if it wasn't for that precious daughter of yours. I can't begin to explain my love for her. She is exceptionally brilliant and lovable. For instance, when I lie down with her when she takes her afternoon nap, before she falls asleep, she lifts her little head if I am lying beside her and she plants a kiss either on my forehead or hand, and off she goes to Dreamland. The other day I took her in the stroller to Broad St. We passed Ringers Drug Store at 11th and Rockland Streets and he has on display in his windows pictures of sailor and soldier boys from the neighborhood. She makes me stop in front of that window and she says Grandma, Daddy’s picture, Uncle Seymour, Uncle Eddie. She seems to think every picture she sees in uniform is either her Daddy or Uncles. After looking at the pictures awhile, we proceed up to Broad Street. She says “Bye-bye Daddy and throws a kiss. I would have to sit here days and days to write you everything about her. I do hope and pray you will be home soon. 

Phil darling, you don't know how much joy and happiness you brought me when Evelyn informed me you saw Ed. I bet he's in bad shape. I received a letter from the War Department telling me of his condition in general. I suppose Evelyn did write you and tell you my Mother died September 3, 1944, at the Mount Sinai Hospital. Same place where my Dad died. Before she died, I was kept very busy running back and forth to her. Now there is a lot of things to be attended to regarding her estate. To be frank with you, sometimes I feel I am on a merry go round. 

I'll close now as I want to write Ed and Seymour a letter. I wish you a happy New Year. Today is Yom Kippur and I am hoping and praying. You know, I don't have to put it in writing. 

With love from all. May God watch over you, keep you safe, well, and strong, give you faith and courage. 

xxxxxxx (Write). 

Lovingly,— 
Mom