Post #278 - January 26, 1944 Tears Came Suddenly and I Finally “Swung” that Pass for 5 Feb.

 

January 26, 1944

Sweetheart, 

I hope to make this a “longie,” as I do feel one is due you. Before I get on with the details of last night, I have a few other items. I received the enclosed letter from the Benises. Need I tell you how it made me feel? Tears came suddenly and then I felt better. He is the one we got so chummy with while in Columbus. Her offer of a trip to Columbus this summer sounds interesting and if everything is alright, I hope to go. What do you say, sweet? I'm going to send off a letter to each family sometime this week. 

In your letter of Jan. 8 (received yesterday), you asked my forgiveness for your reluctance to dance with me on so many occasions. Of course you're forgiven, and I'm glad youve taken a real interest in dancing. I love to dance, especially with you, my darling. 

I particularly like the way you express yourself in Jack's letter in reference to your sex constancy. I can truthfully say “ditto.” Expressions such as those endear you to me, increasing, if at all possible, my deep and abiding love for you! You are inexpressibly tender, sweet, and thoughtful, dearest, and I doubt if there are many of your type and calibre. 

Another thing of interest—I notice that Adele's third finger is a trifle larger than her forefinger. Quite the opposite for me—on one hand. 

And now for last night. I wore my beige sailor dress, pink moonstones, brown shoes, fur coat, and a hat that Gloria gave me that matches the coat perfectly. Remember that brown fur-trimmed, off-the-face hat she bought to match her dress coat? She decided she didn't want it anymore, and since it matches my coat perfectly, I am using it. Jack said my hair looks swell; that it looked different. I wore it in a rather high pompadour, a bit over the forehead. The bottom was in a sort of page-boy effect. (Jack walked in about 1 P.M. as I was finishing my cleaning. I wasn't dressed or made up, yet he said that he thought I looked well.) He said later in the evening that I'm looking better than ever, so his judgment will have to serve in that connection. I was so happy to see him and gave him a royal welcome, hug, kiss and all. His comment: “Gosh, I wonder how you’d act if Phil walked in.” His presence for a little less than 24 hours made me keenly and acutely aware of my loneliness for you, baby. He never looked so well. The army has done wonders for him. He read your letter, plus a few of those you sent to me, and watched Adele intently. He thought her prettier than her pictures. Adele’s skin is exceptionally tender and it has a tendency to rash or redden at the slightest touch or kiss. We had dinner; then Milton Brown called. He was home on a 3-day pass and wanted to know if Harry and Goldie would join him and Sylvia for an evening of fun. It was a break for all of us, as he had the car. Sylvia had gone to a dinner at Jack Lynch’s and Milt had to pick her up at 9:30. He came here at 8 and we left it 9. In the meantime, my mom had promised to wash a batch of clothes for me and I had faithfully promised to hang them. So it was that at 8:30, my mom brought over the washed clothes to hang. Jack help us to hang the first large bunch. My mom was all for letting me go without hanging them, but I insisted and she relented. I only had time for the first bunch, which was the bulk of the wash and I felt better when I left knowing she wouldn't have to do it alone. We arrived at J.L.’s at precisely 9:30 and Sylvia was waiting. We had to rearrange ourselves in the car. Goldie sat on Harry's lap in the back, then Jack and me. However, Goldie wasn't able to stay that way, and I had to sit on Jack’s lap. Between Jack’s G.I. coat and my bulky fur coat, there was little room for comfort. I was relieved when we arrived at our destination—Neil Deighan’s, a nightclub in Camden. Sylvia had a funny look on her face when she saw me so friendly with Jack, and Goldie explained. It's a lovely place, but the floor show was “punk” with a capital “p.” We “girls” had orangeade, cheese and crackers, while the “boys” had 4 rounds of beers. I did quite a bit of dancing with Jack, very plain dancing this time. We did a lot of talking, too. I won't go into detail on that as I'd rather have Jack tell you anything he told me himself. He met a nice girl in New York (Adeline Shefrin) that he felt sure would be the “one” if he could pursue the right course. After his third date with her, upon arriving home, he got to thinking that his mom would not be there to see him if he did get married, and he claims he “broke down” and cried for at least 15 minutes. Two Louies at Jack's camp had an argument concerning his photography position and there is a strong possibility that he may be transferred. I’d better chop the subject before I tell you all and leave nothing for him. 

We soon tired of N.D.’s and decided on a good place to eat. We wound up at Kelly’s Sea Food, where I had four fried oysters, french frieds, cole slaw, and (of all things), a “rock and rye.” I had made up my mind beforehand to try one drink and while I didn't particularly care for this going down, it left a delicious taste in my mouth the rest of the evening. We got home at 3 and Jack and I talked for about a half hour. As we talked, I felt myself filling up and overflowing. Before I realized what had happened, I was in tears on Jack's shoulder. He, too, confessed an overpowering loneliness for you at the time when he felt he wanted to pour forth his heart. 

I neglected to mention that we visited the Anapolsky’s before going downtown. Harry is also in England. It was a nice evening, everything considered. 

Today was a typical warm, sunny, spring day and I had Adele out in the walker. I'm wearing my peasant blouse, black skirt and red sweater. Adele woke Jack up and he played with her. We had breakfast and about 2 P.M. went to Lizzie’s. He has reservations for the 1:08 A.M. train this morning. I felt a sinking feeling as he disappeared from sight, knowing that it might be a long, long time before we meet again. 

Betty is definitely working for post office at $35 per. I kinda miss her and she was in and out all day long. 

I'm glad you like the way I looked on the four Mrs. Strongins snap. I thought I looked darn good. Was there another cut snap of me? You didn't say whether or not it was included. Harry and Goldie seemed to feel better at your acknowledgement. Harry plays the horses frequently, trying to make kill. 

My mother has put my grandma back on her feet and I'm looking forward, once more, to the day when she will leave us again. 

Jack tried to fix the typewriter—no dice. I'm going to have it repaired as soon as I get my next check. I tried to gift Jack with $5 cash, but he wouldn't accept it, saying he would spend it and wouldn't have anything to show for it. I'll get him a gift when I go shopping and send it off. Room enough, my darling Phil, to utter once more my praises and love for you. Pucker up, honey, cause here comes 

Your Ev
with a kiss. 

January 26, 1944

My own darling, 

Last night I decided to go to the movie thinking that I would write when I got back. When I came back to the hut and came in out of the wet and the wind and the cold, I discovered that I was very sleepy and in no mood for anything but the sack, so I turned it in without further ado. And that's why you won't receive a letter from me dated the 25th Jan. I'm really sorry, Sweet, that it happened that way, but I assure you it bothers me when I fail to write—as much as it might bother you to go mail-less for a day. Today I was blue and moody and couldn't understand why until I realized that the reason for my discomfiture was the fact that I had failed to write last night. So, if I am unusually conscientious about writing from now on, you might, if you are inclined to be unkind about it, attribute it to the fact that I'm only looking out for my own peace of mind. But I trust you know better than that, Baby. 

Yesterday afternoon I received yours of the 29th December together with Mom's letter. These must have been held up, for I have letters more than two weeks more recent. However, I was thankful for them, nevertheless. It was good to hear from Mom again. You may tell her that I'll write tomorrow if I can't manage it tonight. 

I know you'll be glad to learn that I finally swung that pass for 5 Feb. for the purpose of meeting Eddie. Immediately upon getting Sgt. Murphy's O.K., I wrote to Eddie advising him of that fact and giving him detailed instructions for a rendezvous. Now, if he fares as well with his top-kick, we will at long last be meeting in London. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. 

This afternoon I received your latest communique, your letter of 14 Jan. That's the one that enclosed the ad from Bonwit Teller’s. I think the outfits pictured are darn cute—and I wish you wouldn't be so cautious about buying some new things. Of course, if you feel you can’t afford it—and I have only a very hazy idea of your financial status at present—then there's nothing to be said. After all, you know better than I what you can afford. But, if I know you, and I think I do, you wouldn't spend a dollar unless you knew where the next two were coming from. You ask me whether or not you ought to buy some new things, knowing full well what my answer always has been and always will be—“Buy it!” You have a pretty good idea of what I consider becoming to you, and that goes for all items of clothing, so you needn't hesitate on that score. You hint about a red camel-hair coat and imply that it's a little too expensive, and I know darn well that you’d just love to have it. Well, then, if you can't bring yourself to buy it, why even mention it? I doubt if you realize it, but you don't do my morale or self-respect any good with your constant implications that you can afford this, that and the other thing. After all, it is my duty to you to keep you provided with all those things, and heretofore I have prided myself that I have done my duty in that respect, but your apparent lack of clothes only reflects on my status as “provider,” and you can't blame me too much if I suffer a loss of pride as a consequence. You know, Chippie, that I'm doing my best to send you all the money I possibly can. Don't be so unappreciative or unfeeling as to imply that it isn't enough—even if it isn't, and don't tease me with the thoughts of what you might have—if you only had the money. I think, though, from past performance on your part, Chippie, that your reluctance to spend doesn't spring so much from your incapacity to do so, as it does from your innate aversion to dispersing money that you would much rather save. To that—I can only repeat that well-known bromide “You can't eat your cake and have it too.” Inversely: “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.” I would say, in your case, that the latter is the more apt. I trust I have covered the subject sufficiently, Baby. 

That “14 Jan.” method of writing dates is GI practice—I thought you knew. 

As for the people who were hurt because I didn't send them a picture, just tell me who they are and I'll do my best to oblige. If it is possible for me to get that 8 x 10 for you, then you may rest assured, darling, that I will do so. 

In reading over your letter, I find that I've neglected to take cognizance of your question about the hat—again (seems to me I ignored it once before—sorry, Honey). I would suggest that you take the piece of fur to a milliner and have him (or her) give you some idea of what he could do with it. If your original idea of an “off-the-face” still appealed more to you, you might inquire as to what might be done in that mode. Personally, I can't see the advantage of an off-the-face in this case, although I remember the style is most becoming to you—and the way you pile your hair in front—almost precludes any other. But it seems to me the effect of the matching fur will be almost entirely lost if you persist in the idea. I rather favor an off-center beret effect to get the most out of that piece of fur—but of course, I may be talking “through your hat,” and the idea may be without worth or practicality—in which case, I would suggest you consult the milliner about a “happy medium.” I just happened to remember how attractive that red beret was on you. I think if you could recapture the same effect with the fur, you would not only have an attractive hat—it would be different. I liked the “jauntiness” of it. The more I picture it, the better I like it—give it a try, will you, Chippie? 

You certainly did a mean day’s work on the 14th, Honey-chile, and I wonder that you can accomplish so much in a day. Too, I suspect that you're “over-doing” it again. Have a care, Baby, that you don't force me to give you hell for it—and I will, if I hear one peep out of you about being “knocked out.” 

Your guess that I would have a “pile of mail” awaiting me on my return from furlough, was entirely correct, as you probably know by now. (Think I'll ask for another furlough.) 

I was busy all day today making copies of the men's “Immunization Records,” but it is a lot of work and I didn't get half through. This evening I went down to the Snack Bar with Klein, Moats and Oxborrow and had a cup o’coffee (but good) and a coupla of toasted cheese sandwiches (but delicious!) Almost forgot to tell you— yesterday, at dinner we had—(you'll never guess!) chocolate ice cream! Need I say more? No! Well, I will! In the evening, on the way to the movies, we stopped at the Snack Bar and had—that's right!—chocolate ice cream. Lady, it was so good and so rare a treaat that I actually hated to eat it and have it disappear. 

Well, Baby mine, anything I might say now would be in the nature of an anti-climax. (after all, what is more exciting than good ole chocolate ice cream?) all right—all right, don't tell me—I know! I meant, or I should have said, under the present circumstances, what is more exciting than—etc. 

Now that I have us both thinking along those intriguing lines, I think it's time to quit. (I’d hate to be diverted from this particular train of thought.) Don't wake me up—let me dream— Goodnight, Baby, I love you. My love to our Adele—and all our folk.

Ever,
Your Phil
P.S. Bet I dream I’m “home” tonight.

January 26, 1944

Dear Phil,

Just received a delayed letter from you. It was dated September 1, 1943, and decided to answer you without waiting for your answer to my last letter. I recently was assigned to a new job as a warehouseman and like it very much. There’s very little physical labor to it, but it's a very responsible job and I have to do a great deal of figuring. The job rates a T-5 and I expect the rating to be coming very shortly. Yes, big brother, I'll be right up there with you. When we were down in Brisbane, we used to take time out for tea also, for the Aussies were originally English. I'm  improving greatly with my sketching and will be very happy to receive the set of oil paints that Gloria sent to me. I hope that in my spare time, I'll be able to practice oil painting so that I may be good enough to paint Gloria and each member of our growing family. Gloria certainly keeps my morale sky high. I receive mail from her very regularly. I made a Valentine with my original poem on it and sent it off to her. I get a letter from Ev every now and then and she writes me all the news on the home front for which I am very grateful. Our outfit is getting to be more like a garrison camp every day. Why, just today we were told to fall out for reveille every morning, bright and early. I hear that Al Chase is 1-A (1 alright) in the Army. Gosh, Phil, somehow I just can't picture him in a G.I. zoot suit. I guess you have heard of the new ruling concerning soldiers in a diseased area, so I won't take up space telling you about it. That yellow blotch you see above is insecticide from a bomb spray. A few bugs (Guinea is about the most bug-infested land on earth, and believe me, they drive one bugs) were bothering me and I had to bomb them out. Well, so long big brother, hope to hear from you very soon. 

Kid brother 
Jackson 

Post #277 - January 25, 1944 Milt Has the Car, So We Can Go Most Anywhere and A Long Letter from Jack Nerenberg

 

January 25, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Jack N. put in an appearance late this afternoon as did your letter of Jan. 8, plus the one for Jack. He saved me the trouble of mailing it to him. I haven't time to comment on your letter, baby, but I will tomorrow. Jack, Harry and Goldie, Milton, (who is home on a three day pass) Sylvia and myself are going out (I don't know where). Milt has the car, so we can go most anywhere. Jack and I were reading over many of your letters, baby, and both got a big kick out of it. Gosh, how I wish you were here. Just seeing Jack has made me feel so lonesome for you. Your letter to Jack, as usual, was more informative and your views on sex were more detailed than any I have read from you. I'm happy to know you feel the way you do—it helps so much. So long for now, sweetness, all the love I bear for you and a great big hug and kiss. 

Your Eve

This is a letter from Jack Nerenberg, Phil's best friend:

January 25, 1944

(delayed by travel) 

Dear Phil,

First off, I must apologize for the trouble I shall cause you as you try deciphering what I write. I'm doing so aboard the train, which is swaying me from Chicago to Denver. Having apologized, I'm now licensed to write like hell; let the apostrophes fall where they are pushed. 

The peal of Adele Bara’s laughter still lingers, so recently have I heard it; for as you now know, it was only yesterday I saw and heard her and your loved ones. 

Phil, my emotions were such on seeing them, I find it hard to believe how anyone that's a man (supposedly) could be so stirred. What I intend to relate cannot possibly do you any good, for it shall only heighten your yearning. On the other hand, I find that the mention of my Mom in my presence, saddens me, it likewise creates a warmth within me. 

When I first entered, no, even as I approached your house, it seems as though I were in a dream so did the familiar bus ride make me feel. The church, the drugstore, the tinsmith, the gone headquarters where I stopped to read your name and Jack’s on the service roster, all those pervaded my being with a nostalgia akin to that brought on by a look into the old family album. Through it all, one thing I was terribly aware of; I wasn't to see you, this trip, Phil. I miss you in my way as much as does Evelyn in hers. Than that I cannot come closer in describing my feelings. 

As I continued in my seeming dream I found myself waiting for an answer to the bell I was hardly conscious of ringing. Mom came to the door, a beaming smile welcomed me to your home even through the window of the porch. As I kissed her and knew she was real, she knew she was the closest I could physically come to my Mom and I knew I was the nearest to the reality to be, your homecoming, and I found myself wishing for Mom and for Ev that I were you, but there. 

Then as we unclinched, my eye traveled the length of the rug to behold at its end the playpen of the bundle of loveliness which is sweet Adele Bara. And who should be in it? Why none other than the same, but lovelier? Phil, she's a knockout and a honey and as clever as can be. Her antics are boundless. How so much can be in one so young is indeed puzzling. You say “Pistol Packin.’” She'll say Ma-Mah clear as a bell. You say “sit down,” (on the living room stairs) she’ll consistently do as follows (by the numbers) 

1. Place hands on stair.

2. Place folded right leg between hands. 

3. Raise her fanny. 

4. Waddle some, first touching right “cheek” to step, then left. 

5. Extricate and straighten right leg that got caught under upper half of left in the process. 

6. & 7. Smile and bounce. 

Oh yes, she does bounce. The wonder of it all is how she retains her balance as she goes up and down so very, very hard. 

I'm certain Evelyn has related to you the above and all else regarding the little princess, so I won't get into more, but back to where I was after first seeing Adele Bara, who convinced me that sometimes a kid can resemble one parent almost beyond belief. H’ya beautiful. I'm sure that what there is of Evvie in her shall manifest itself in years to come. What then, could there be more to look forward to? 

Well, after I finished gazing in awe and closed my mouth, I ran upstairs to find Ev in a house dress. Just ss for you, she said if she knew I were coming at that hour, she would be through and prettied up. She looked damn nice, anyway, and just as you would have done, I kissed her. Eat your heart out! Go ahead, who cares. (Anything to snap him out of how he felt two seconds ago). 

Gee, Phil, we spent a few lovely but lovely hours together, missing you beyond words. Her head buried on my shoulders, we three were very close. You didn't notice, but I was all choked up as she lifted her chin and I was helpless to stifle the shivering wetness of those beautiful tear dimmed eyes. 

Then the next morning I was awakened to confront none other  than Adele Bara whom Evvie had brought in. There it was we four together. Did you notice how I help them both, and had the right to. For wasn’t it we who worried and fretted Adele into and Ev back to this world in those suspenseful moments that decades were no longer than on  Nov. 19, 1943. 

Then at noon we breakfasted with Harry and Goldie (who didn't want to work on my account and didn't) and Mom. We had gone out the previous night and returned late after topping off the evening with a seafood supper, which brought to mind the laughing spree of the last one, remember 

At about 2:00 P.M., Ev, Adele and I took a little walk (with stroller). Lord how beautiful your kid is as the sun highlights her features and the blue A.S. monogrammed suit adorns her loveliness. We tried unsuccessfully to obtain film. It will have to be another time that I shall be able to enjoy photographing her. 

Oh yes, the night before and the night after, on the two occasions I saw the Anapolskys, they couldn't get over how well Evelyn looked and said as much, voicing my opinion, especially after I saw her dressed in a new hairdo. 

Phil, she's holding up swell, believe me. Else I wouldn't mention it at all. She did cry that Tuesday night, but that was because seeing me, but not you and me, was a little too much for her, as it was almost too much for me, seeing yours, but not you. She has a reserve built up and knowing it, she is much stronger. 

After Adele, Ev, and I returned, I jumped into the house to take my coat and leave of Mom and Goldie (Harry had left after lunch to woo Lady Chance of the Pony Chances). Then Ev, Adele and a neighbor (Sarah), walked me to within a block of the bus stop before Ev and I realized that we should have gone to 5th St. for the 47 car to Aunt Lizzie's. I guess we weren't thinking too clearly, our emotions dulling our facilities somewhat. We returned back and stopped at 8th and Rockland and I was glad that the neighbor was there. It was less of a hardship, saying goodbye to Ev in her presence. 

After crossing Rockland, I turned and waited till Adele threw me a kiss. She must have known how I felt holding her close a moment before. There they were, Adele, smiling brightly and Ev smiling sadly. I couldn't turn my head away, but somehow I managed for I had to, else they would have seen the tears in my eyes and known of the pain caused by the congestion within my forehead. 

When you return, please do as I suggest. On a mild sunlit day, ask Ev to take Adele to the corner nearest your house. Ask them to stand to the right of the signpost (as one would see it from the west). Then walk directly across the street (west). Then turn. Then remember Adele as she was at 18 months. Thus will be recreated for you the mental picture I shall always carry with me of those who have become so dear to me through you. Please God, so be it. 

As ever, 

Jackie. 

P.S. 

The highlight of my New York furlough was meeting a beautiful girl; not beautiful by the standards of Billy Rose, but by yours and mine and you and I know how much more rigid are our standards. Her eyes, though, by anyone's, but double. 

If she will have me, that's my wife to be. 

It seems a little too much to hope that on three occasions we spent together, I could have gotten the idea across to her. I shall have to substitute words on paper for me in the flesh to convey to her my feelings. If someday I should introduce you to Adeline Nerenberg, you'll know how successful I was.

Post #276 - January 23, 24, 1944 Reading About the New Allied Landings on the Road to Rome and We Always Did Get Along

 

January 23, 1944 

Ev, dearest, 

No mail again today and I'm reduced to V-mail as a consequence. There are only four of us in the hut tonight, the rest having taken off for the snack bar, movies, etc. I just got up from my nap (about two hours) and feeling snug and warm, was rather reluctant about going out into the cold, wet, blustery night. So, I'm taking it easy tonight. Reading about the new Allied landings on the road to Rome. About the great New Russian Leningrad offensive, and the “News from Home” in “Yank.” Altogether, the news gets better and better and reading it becomes a pleasure rather than a chore. Last night I kept myself busy writing. I sent off, beside my usual letter to you, one to Dot, another to Jack S., a birthday greeting to Jack N. (he owes me a letter). Tonight I am going to write to Red (I owe him one). Still unable to get straight yes or no answer from Sgt. Murphy in regards to that. 5 Feb. pass, and until I do, there is no point in writing to Ed. Tomorrow, though, I mean to get an answer! There isn't a darn thing of interest otherwise that I might write about. I’m feeling fine; my work (such as it is), is pleasant, and, on the whole, I don't have a thing on my mind (such as it is), except perhaps how it would feel to get on the outside of a malted milk or a pint of ice-cream, or how long yet before I can know ever again the joy and peace of home and family, and how my sweet Chippie might feel again in my arms, and how wonderful it will be to be able to let myself become really attached to my precious punkin. My love to you all. 

Devotedly,
Your Phil

January 24, 1944 

My Sweet, 

I didn't have to wait a week for the jackpot—it came today. It took me a long, long time to read the three of Jan. 12, 14 and 17. Lou was here as I read, and as I reached the end, Lou said, “wake up.” I was truly with you on your furlough, baby, and so much of it thrilled me, yet made me want to cry. I'm still in a daze and I like it. Oh, darling, you make me wish so hard. 

This morning, bright and early, Ruth and I went down town (Betty and Mom cared for Adele), and met Sarah there. Blum’s was having a large clearance sale and Ruth was in the market for a sports coat. I, too, would have gotten something if I had had sufficient funds on hand. Ruth took the day off, having to care for Adele while I worked in the afternoon. She was lucky, for they had one coat, a boxy Chesterfield, a darkish cadet blue with a velvet collar, in her size. It is made of a lovely camel hair, very fine, heavy and warm. It was reduced from $40 to $24. That was the only real bargain they had in a coat. We looked at many items. Time passed quickly and I was soon on my way to Miss Hahn’s. Ruth called to inform me of the three unexpected letters. Gosh, was I happy! 

I arrived home at six (Miss Hahn gave me a calendar with a large picture of a dog and Adele made a “large” fuss over the “wow-wow”), and after loving her for a while, I opened your mail. I couldn't read them til I had finished my dinner, but the fact that they were there to be read made me feel so deelicius. 

Last night I knitted a while and finished Adele’s peach beret. I didn't really have enough wool to make it as large as I would have wished it. It will serve its purpose, though. 

I thought Jack N. would have put in an appearance by now, as it is just past eight. His furlough is just about over, and I'm beginning to wonder if he'll come at all. Lennie called from New York last night and begged forgiveness for not calling or visiting. All I can say is: It was about time. They had the unveiling on Sunday. It is early and they feel it best at this time as they are all together. 

I passed up, “Lassie, Come Home” last night. I see you enjoyed it and maybe I'll get to see it yet. I haven't much taste for the movies, somehow. Don't know why. I don't go out of my way to seek a movie as entertainment as I'm generally too tired to dress up and merely enjoy laying around. I often wonder what it will be like when you get back—you with all that travel and adventure tucked under your belt, and a desire to settle into a rut, and me—wanting by that time, to break the bonds and see the world. I have no doubt of the outcome—we always did get along, and I only wish it were tomorrow. 

Betty may take a full time job in the post office after some schooling. She isn't sure she wants to work full-time. 

There was also a letter from Eddie S. He is living in a detached home that sports a lawn, bushes and trees, bright green in the middle of January. 

I know how you disliked returning to camp and I hope you won't have to very much longer. I've been dreaming of you almost every night and I'm so hungry for you. I even smell the paper you write on to try to get closer. Have you heard the latest “crazy” song—Mares eat oats, does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy? My ever constant love and adoration, baby. 

Your Eve

P.S. Try to say kaddish for “pop.”—Mom. 

January 24, 1944 

Darling Evvie, 

Hardly know where to begin today. It was a typically routine day and there was no mail for me again. I was busy all morning and most of the afternoon at the Finance Office transcribing the payroll and tending to a few other matters. This evening, I played cards for the first time in weeks, but since most of the fellows are pretty low (financially) this close to payday, the game only lasted about forty-five minutes. I was lucky again and came out ahead of the game. I think maybe I might manage to make that check $75 after all, but don't count on it. 

I was reading the other day that once the “European Phase” of the war is over, there will be demobilization “on a large scale.” The speaker was none other than F.D.R., which is good enough for my money. I don't have to tell you, Sweet, that this was the best piece of news that's come my way in a long, long time. If I knew that I would be one of those free to go home after Germany is knocked out, I wouldn't have a care in the world. Here's hoping anyhow. 

My love to all and don't forget the neighbors. A big kiss for Adele, bless her lil heart—and the same for you darling. I am, as ever 

Your Phil 

Post #275 - January 22, 23, 1944 Not Many Feel the Admiration I Have for You and Ruth’s First Package of Toys are Already in the Chaplain’s Hands

 

January 22, 23, 1944 

Dearest, 

I merely got as far as the salutation last night and just couldn't seem to write on. Some kids like to be sung to sleep with a lullaby. Not Adele—she likes “pistol packin’ momma” and repeats the word momma as I finish saying it. Petey used up both rolls of film—mostly of Adele alone. I wanted you to see her in just her dress so we took them on the porch, that is, part of the 16 shots. I stood Adele on the studio couch and when the sun came up (it came up and went down every minute) we snapped, but fast. I took two alone—one in my suit and one in the coat. Don't worry, sweet, I'll have a C.P. (Claire Pruett) picture made in the near future. I've got my fingers crossed—they just have to be good. Adele was hugging her dollie in one pose, two are of Adele and Natalie, one of Adele, one of Mom and Adele and me. Adele, Glo, Glo and me and one of the four Mrs. Strongins and Harry. Gloria is here for the weekend and we hashed over old times. Gloria is angry at Lennie and Lee as they have made no attempt to see her while in New York. What's more, they called at 3:30 on the afternoon of the day they were supposed to be at Frieda’s (Glo’s sister) for dinner and called it off in preference to a date to go out with Jack. After Frieda had gone to all that trouble to prepare an elaborate dinner (she lost her baby recently and really shouldn't exert herself), Glo got really sore. They sure are stinkers if that is the case. After all, they ought to see her, if only to learn of our Jack's whereabouts. 

I didn't go to Dot’s party last night, though I called (10 P.M.) and said we would go, (Glo and I). But we decided we were both too tired and would get home too late. 

Ethel and Gloria liked my stationary so well, they are both ordering the exact same thing. 

I got Adele bottle of cod liver oil ($2.29) and a box of Johnson's baby powder (.21). That powder makes her smell sooo good. 

I'm working for Miss Hahn for four hours (1 to 5) tomorrow. Jack N. is supposed to visit us tomorrow, according to Gloria. 

I received your V-mail of 6 Jan. 44 and “enticing” is the word for it. (You asking for a furlough to get home 'cause your wife had a change of mind.) I could write a long, long letter on my feelings, but I'd much rather have your arms around me when we discuss such things. Yes, sweet, I am trying to be fair to you, but that isn't my only reason for my change of mind. I'm glad you are so fair with me and I can only say that I love you all the more for it. I've had talks with many wives, and while they think their hubbies swell in that respect, not many feel the admiration I have for you. 

I received a three page continuation of V-mail from my brother. He said he thought he was quite a distance from you. The Wymans dropped in this afternoon and made their usual fuss over Adele. I finished Adele’s peach sweater and that started a beret to match. The sweater is large, but she'll grow into it. My cousin Bella sent me one of the dresses she got for Adele. It's a size 4 and she won't be able to wear it for some time. It's a pink color with a full skirt and a lace trim from shoulder in a circular effect to the waist. 

Time to go, baby, but don't worry 'cause I'll be back. I adore you my darling, and will always be 

Your Eve 

January 22, 1944

Darling

No mail today, but I'm not kickin’, because the mail has been coming through pretty regularly of late. I am in receipt of practically every letter you have written up to 10 Jan.—and is my file growing! Ruth’s first package of toys are already in the Chaplain's hands. I took it right down to him as soon as it arrived today. Thank Ruthie for me and tell her to keep sending the packages at every opportunity. 

This morning the company turned out for presentation ceremonies. Some of our fighter pilots were awarded medals. This took up most of the morning. After a big lunch of roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn, bread and butter, coffee and cake; I went to work on the S/R's. This kept me busy until 4:30, when I knocked off work for the day. 

Did I tell you I received Dot’s letter of 22 Dec. yesterday? I think I did, but I don't think I told you that she volunteered the information that Adele is “the prettiest baby I have ever seen, including my own.” Now that is something! While I think of it, Sweet, how about that C.P. picture? I hope you don't think I'm going to be content with those proofs of Wolpe’s. I'm sure that you're not satisfied that they do her justice, either. I'd like a picture of the two of you, Honey, and I'd like to see C.P.’s version of the two sweetest girls in the world. What do you say, Chippie? Do I or don't I get it? 

I had been planning to send you $75 on the first of February, representing $30 for Jan., $30 for Feb. and the $15 bonus check of S & D, but my furlough set me back about $20.00, so I'll be sending about $50.00 or $60.00 depending on what's in the “kitty” on pay day. I trust this will be satisfactory, Honey, 'cause I want to do the best I possibly can for you—financially. If you remember, Sweet, you're avowed intention of reneging on the Xmas gifts wasn't too well received by me, and I declared that I would send you the fixed amount of $30 monthly; but since you came through so handsomely at Xmas time with presents for everyone; I'm reconsidering. I'm leaving myself a few dollars (about six, I think) for “investing” (if’n you know what I mean) and if it turns out favorably, I will send the “profits” along to you with March’s check. I hope you appreciate the fact that I'm doing my utmost in this direction, Baby, so don't ever again “cheat” yourself by opposing my intentions or wishes when I specify how part of the money I send you is to be spent. I won’t, for my part, make any undue demands on you. That's a promise. But, if I drop the hint sometimes, like: Why don't you use part of this $60.00 for a real picture at C.P.’s?—well, I'll expect you to take the “hint”—get it? 

I'm still waiting for Mom's letter. Evidently it's been held up. Sgt. Murphy still hasn't committed himself on the matter of the 5 Feb. pass, but I'm hoping for the best. 

And now I'm going to kiss you, good-night, my darling, so that I may get off letters to Jack S and Dot. A hug and kiss for the lassie. My love to all—especially you, my lovely. 

Your Phil 

This is a letter from Francis Benis from Columbus, OH, whom my parents befriended when my father was stationed in Columbus:

Jan. 22, 1944 
Saturday, 8:30 P.M. 

Dear Evelyn: 

So much has happened the past few months that I really had no thought or time to write anyone. 

My news is sad news. My brother Maurice was killed in Wales Dec. 13th and the War Department said all details are withheld until after the war. My dad held up wonderfully, but mother collapsed—my sister Inez was in Texas with her husband and when she arrived came down with the flu, so I took complete charge at Mother’s for nearly a month. 

My two younger brothers came in and by this time are on the high seas. God only knows bound for where or what. They hadn't seen each other for fifteen months—My brother Myron came in three weeks ago today from Panama, and since he had twenty months overseas service, may not have to go back, but this week reports to New Orleans for his new station, and we hope it's in the States. Inez went back to Texas two weeks ago. She got to see the three boys, but the two younger had to leave before Myron got in and now, this Sunday, my sister, Mary, has to go to New York on a two week buying trip, so I'll go over to Mother’s every day while the children are in school. 

I'm expecting my in-laws Sunday, also my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and baby, and they'll stay for several weeks, so while they are here, I can get over to Mother’s easier as they are so helpful and fine folks, too. 

You know Maurice was our best and it's hard to say he's gone, but to us he is always living. You know how religious my folks are, but Dad wouldn't let us cover up mirrors or his picture. Said we should just think of him living away in a distance, helping God to install good thoughts and deeds in all of us, for though his life was short, (he would have been 30 in Feb.), his everyday living was a good, clean one and you should see the hundreds of letters we received from his friends; but the living must go on, even if it's hard to know why a good clean boy should go so quickly, but who are we to question God? 

I hope the news you get of Phil is good news and may he come home quickly and safely to you and your big daughter. 

Cy said you will get a premium notice where to send the check. He wishes to be remembered to you. 

Do write and as soon as things get more settled at home, I'll resume my writing. You keep it up and I'll try to catch up with you! Any chance of you and your daughter coming here for a visit this summer? Think it over—would do you both good if you can make it, so think about it, won't you? Am still awaiting that letter from the Levinsons!! 

Regards from us all and may my next letter contain better and more pleasant news. 

Please excuse my writing as I'm terribly nervous and it's been hard to sit down and write the few letters I did get off today. 

Sincerely, Frances. 

Alice and Stuart say hello—Alice lost 2 upper teeth and looks a fright, but guess we all went through that stage. 

Jan. 22, 1944 
Ninth Air Force 

[Looked up the family tree and not sure who cousin Issy is, but he's cousin to all my father's other cousins.] 

Dear Phil, 

How are you? I guess I'm the last person you'd expect to hear from. Well, here goes. I've been in England for some time now. The folks told me you are somewhere in England and so I decided to look you up. Two weeks ago, I wrote a letter to Help Wanted Stars and Stripes asking for your A.P.O. I just got it and here I am writing to you. 

You have the same A.P.O. as mine. I would like to see you soon. I visited [and this is cut out by the censor] Write me where I can meet you. How are Jack, Harry and Cousin Harry and Ben. 

Carl is in Africa, transferred to a M.P. outfit on account of a bad finger he got while on maneuvers back in the States. I’m getting mail regularly from home. Please write me and let me know what time and place I could meet you. 

Remember me in your letters home. 

Your Cousin,
Issy 

Post #274 - January 21, 1944 This Morning I Had to Force Myself to Stand Up and The Yank Soldiers are Contributing Generously for the Sake of the Little “Blitz” Victims—and There Are Many

 

January 21, 1944

My Own, 

Yesterday I wrote 5 letters, one to you, to the American stores ordering my gifts for the coupons, to the Benis’, to Max Brown in answer to a recent postal ,and Gloria. After putting Adele to sleep (her noon nap), I went to Broad and 11th Sts. to shop. I looked for some handkerchiefs. They are sky-high and hard to get. I only got three inexpensive white ones that he had had in stock for some time. I am also sending a few others I had. I bought a dollar’s worth of stamps and a few groceries for Adele. I wrapped the package last night and will mail it either today or tomorrow. 

Adele has given me some unusually bad days this week and yesterday was a “killer diller.” She now has the practice of holding food in her mouth or throwing it up. She is getting into the “hitting” stage and generally speaking, can be a little terror at times. I was very weary last night and could hardly wait til I got into bed. My mother visited in the evening and I had to hang the clothes. I finally managed to hit the hay at 10:45. Did I sleep? NO I got up seven times, mind you, to put her on the toddy four times and change a wet diaper 3 times. Well, this morning I had to force myself to stand up. There are times that I get so doggone tired, I almost wish I wouldn't wake up. I'm “due” again and that is also largely due to my continued weariness.

Adele forced up most of her breakfast all over the place, and that was the last straw. I put her in bed and lay down myself. I might also add that she gets spanked more often. She gets out of hand with so many admirers to spoil her. Don't worry, sweet, she gets plenty of lovin’ from me, too. When she does something well, I make a whole fuss over it and love her up. When she does the opposite, she gets spanked. She knows what it means, too! She is getting wise and soon will be easier for me to manage. 

Yours of Jan. 3 was in the mail this morning. Where in Sam hill did you ever get the idea that I depend on your “winnings” for Adele’s and my keep? Me? I thought you knew me better. Furthermore, do you think I would give you the “go” signal if I did? That irked me and the fact that you decided not to send me anything in excess of $30 per month (if you had it) made me a little mad. I never had any intention, nor have I ever done so, of using whatever monies you may be able to send me for anything but savings, with the exception of the fur coat. The money you are using to play cards is our savings—so far. I sincerely hope I won't need it for anything else, and that too is why the money I earn helps. I think I have demonstrated in previous letters that I can spend when there is what to spend. I specifically stated that you were to hold any and all monies to do with as you choose. When I specifically requested, you had a large excess on hand, or perhaps, such as this month, I find myself unusually short or my desire to purchase some expensive item, did I want you to forward it. You always said you didn't want to save unless it was in large amounts. Well??? You once said I should buy what I want or need now as the money means less now than it will later. You are wrong. You don't get the full value of your money nor good quality of merchandise. I don't mind waiting for the things I want in life if I know I can have them. In this respect, I merely mean personal ownings. I want my own home and I expect you to get it for me when this mess is over. And there are plenty of things you’ll want, and if you’ll have the money saved, you'll get them. $110 per month is equal to $55 these days and it won't be enough to live on when this is over. We’ll be alone—on our own with the child to raise. Phil it's almost three years since we struggled to get on our feet. Now is the best opportunity and I'll never forgive you if you miff it. Perhaps you will do better when it is over, but, sweet, that's one chance I don't want to take. I'd like to know we got off to a head start. Forgive me, darling, if I seem to run away with myself. 

I was beginning to wonder if the proofs went astray. I think Wolpe is going to have fits at the delay, but who cares? I thought the serious pose had more to it than the others. You still think Adele pudgy? She isn't even chubby anymore. She is losing weight rapidly and is just right. I hope to use the film I bought shortly. I'm waiting for a warmer day so I won't have to bundle her up. I'd like to get one of her standing alone in a dress, as she is at present. She looks mighty cute in the nude. I don't think I'll be satisfied til I have a picture made by Pruett. I want to wait til she is steady on her feet. She walks nicely but has many spills. She kisses correctly now and when I tell her to kiss me—it's smack on the lips. It sure does feel good. I sure do feel for you at the loss of such a desire. Maybe soon, huh? Did I tell you that we were the only ones to gift Mom on Xmas? Ruth bought the house an Autodex, one of those plastic pod-like things to keep oft-used phone numbers. Harry said they couldn't afford to give gifts with the baby on the way. One minute he's overly generous, and the next he’s as tight as they come. He never runs true to form. 

Well, I “fell off”—I'm right back on the 28 day schedule. We received a letter from Jack S. that had been delivered to the wrong address. He keeps repeating that he is safe. He's doing guard duty and hopes to do something more interesting in the future. 

This evening I gave Adele her junket as usual, and she doesn't like it. I put the junket away and gave her a banana. As soon as she took the first bite, she started to rub her chest to make “ah-good.” 

Those oft-repeated words “I love you Phil” must serve again. 

Your Eve 

January 21, 1944. 

My Dearest,

Today was a typically quiet, uneventful one. Your V-mail of 10 Jan. arrived this afternoon together with a Xmas card from Ruthie and a letter from Dot. Dot’s letter, written on 22nd Dec., was a whole month in transit because she hadn't sent it Air-Mail—so don't ever get an idea about saving three cents a day on stamps. Something is being done about the mail situation you'll know if you've been reading the papers that the ETO is devoting exactly twice as much space on the plane to Air-mail—that's both coming and going—so I fully expect the deliveries to be  immeasurably more regular. 

I've been forgetting in my last few letters to make requests for those packages for the British kids that Ruthie has collected, but don't think it isn't important, Sweet, it is—more than you might think. The Yank soldiers are contributing generously for the sake of the little “blitz” victims—and there are many—too many—who have been left parent-less and home-less in this war. It is becoming quite the thing over here for a squadron or company, to adopt its “own” kid. That way there is a more personal interest in the tyke, and he has the the affection of many fathers. As you say, Sweet, a baby requires a lot of loving—the more, the better. Anyway, we are all trying to help in any way we can, and I'm sure the Chaplain can put those togs and goodies that Ruthie has been good enough to gather in the right little hands. So keep sending them along. 

I've asked Sgt. Murphy for a pass on 5 Feb. so that I can go ahead with my plans for meeting Eddie. I'm usually very busy the first three days of the month because of the “Soldiers’ Deposits.,” Ration Report, etc. Then, I am even busier from the 10th through the 15th or 16th with the Pay Roll. I don't know—at least I don't want to take the chance that Eddie might move again after that. So—the logical time for me to arrange a meeting is about the 5th Feb. The difficulty is, some of the fellas will be taking their furloughs then, and since we are only permitted a certain percentage absent, that may queer the deal. However, Sgt .Murphy has said that he will let me know in a few days whether or not it can be managed. Eddie is just about as far from London as I am, so that would be the logical place for our little reunion. 

And now, Baby, McFarlin and I are going to take a walk down to the Snack Bar for a “Nosh.” There really is very little to write about tonight, Sweet, but maybe I think of something by tomorroh-oh! just look how I tried to spell tomorrow t-o-m-o-r-r-o-w! 

Give my love and a great big kiss to my “petite fille.” My love to one and all. ’Bye now, darling. I love you. (Well, it's a pretty fancy love I feel for you—that's why! 

Ever 

Your Phil 

Letter from Phil's cousin Phil, who has the same name. 

January 21st, 1944. 

My Dear Cousin Phil II: 

Where in the hell did you get the queer idea that I have an extreme distaste for writing letters? After being in the army as long as I have, one gets to enjoy receiving mail from his beloved ones, and how does one go about receiving mail? Yes, you guessed it, by writing. By this time, I honestly get a kick out of writing.Phil, did I knock that queer idea out of your head—(I hope). 

Phil my life in general hasn't changed much, in spite of the army. Still take a gym work-out twice a week. In fact, I'm writing this letter at the USO—in the same building. Just got through playing (3) three games of handball—and boy they are rip-masters. The boys I played with were New Yorkers, and in New York, everybody plays handball. The handball courts would be enough to bring me down here in Wash.—but thrown in with it are free eats, which usually consist of Jewish rye bread, (the kind you can really dig your teeth into) corned beef, baloney, knishes, etc.; nice girls to talk to, ping pong—and free writing paper and envelopes. Not bad, aye? Phil my feelings for your dear daughter are the same as my first letter—so I'm not going to repeat it all over again, but if you wish (and with my permission) you can reread my last letter about her. 

Phil, your family are all well—and like good Americans, are taking you boys being away in their stride—just like you'd expect them to. 

I'm still fortunate enough to see my beloved ones nearly every week, but of course no one can tell how long that will last, of course, when my present heaven on earth comes to a short lap, I'll take it in my stride like my cousin and brother “over there.” Phil no one can tell, but maybe someday I'll join you all over there. I'm enclosing Eddie's address—please write to him. He's in North Ireland. Ed writes that Harry Weinman is someplace near him. 

The following is a very funny story. Your wife was very thoughtful and sent Sidney Brown a little something. What, I don't know. Two weeks ago I and Em received a letter of thanks from him for a package he though sent. You see Phil he remembered that I once went with an Evelyn (Cohen) and he took for granted that my wife sent the package. I wrote to Sidney and straightened the whole thing out—so now everything is O.K. Well, Phil II, I'm gradually getting writer's cramp, so I'll say so long for a little while. 

Love 

Your Cousin Phil I. 

P.S. Phil did this little note convince you that I enjoy writing letters—contrary to what you thought?