Post #287 - February 5, 6, 1944 In Walked Milt, Tante and Miriam and “Junior” Crossman is the Tall, Good-Looking Canadian-American on My Right Hand

 

February 6th, 1944

Dearest,

Didn't have the opportunity to post the letter yesterday, as you will note. 

I received the two towels (all white, large and very nice) I ordered with my coupons. Mom received another form to fill out regarding her allotment from you. I'm sending it off today. 

Adele had me up all night (the night before last), and yesterday, I felt weary all day long. I managed to finish with my pressing and a few minor duties and lay down to nap with Adele. However, for the first time since she was born, Adele went straight through a whole day sans nap. At this time, Milt (who has managed to get home every weekend since being stationed at Camp Pickett), called to ask if we wouldn't get him some liquor on our books (it's rationed, you know.) I had just about dressed Adele (I was still not properly attired) when in walked Milt, Tante and Miriam. Miriam's twin brother, was home on a two day leave from overseas and she came home from Florida to see him. She looks swell, better than I ever remember. At any rate, and to make a long story short, Mom, Adele and I spent the day at the Browns. I hurriedly dressed, readied Adele, threw the few necessities I need when traveling with Adele into a bag, plus three pairs of my shoes that needed lifts (the brown, dubonnet and copper). I acquired a bottle of Four Roses (the fellow asked me—“you’re past 21, aren't you” and I couldn't help laughing. I had left Adele in the car with Tant and Miriam. She played nicely but suddenly (I guess she missed a familiar face) she started to cry lustily. She all but threw herself into my arms as I got into the car and hugged me tightly. Then we went shopping on Marshall Street and I bought Adele a set of underwear (a shirt with sleeves and panties that button on all around). They had size 2 or 4. I didn't want the four as I knew it would be much too large, so I settled for the two at a cost of $1.29. I can't button the panties unless I pull a bit. They fit (skin tight) and are neat as a pin. Hereafter, I'll buy larger sizes. As long as she wears it the rest of the winter, I'll feel that I got my money's worth. That's a lot of money for a set of underwear. In the same store, I bought sleepers— scarcer than diamonds. What's more, they have rubber buttons, and elastic backs. The sleepers are baby blue flannel with a colorful rabbit printed on a pocket. The pocket is on the left side of the chest. They cost $1.49 and I could not get an extra pair of pants to button on, as is the customary practice when buying sleepers. I also bought a pair for Dot’s baby. Adele had a grand time honking the horn, steering the car, etc., etc. Milt got a big kick out of her. Milt had put Adele’s walker in the truck and it came in handy at Tant’s. We let Adele play with a kitten—poor kitten. She insisted on turning the kitten's face so that it looked straight at her. Sylvia was also there for dinner. Adele discovered a little stuffed black and white dog, which was once Bea’s, and now it's hers. Tant gave her a box of Nestle's chocolate and a jar of blackberry jelly. That's the first time Adele had chocolate milk. She drank every drop. 

Tant managed to get two white metal Venetian blinds (royal blue bands) for the living room and a stunning pair of blue satin drapes ($17). Unc put an inlaid linoleum in the store at a cost of $100. It really makes the store. After dinner Adele, who hadn't slept a wink all day, got cranky. I took her upstairs, rocked and sang to her til she fell asleep. I put her on the large bed and put chairs all about the sides. About 8 P.M. we were ready to leave. I merely wrapped Adele in a large automobile blanket and got into the car. She awoke, but stayed still. Unc gave her a dollar as it was the first time she visited them. She took it and held on to it. She had some milk as soon as we got home and went right back to sleep. Phil, someday we must get a car. There is nothing that compares with it when it comes to children. It's a necessity in transporting a child, it teaches him a lot as he sees things, lots of things he wouldn't see ordinarily. 

I gave my dad your three suits to wear to work. I thought they'd serve their purpose that way, if you don't mind. 

Baby, Sunday does funny things to me—a terrific wave of nostalgia hits me full force in the morning. I lay back in bed and dream of past Sundays when I curled up close to you. God what I wouldn’t do to curl up to you now! 

Adele almost said “baby” today. She tries very hard to say everything. For instance—when she wants a piece of bread she'll say—“ba.” Ethel, Al, Paul and Mickey were over today. They made their usual fuss over Adele. 

I inquired about Halvah on Marshall Street. It only comes in 6 lb. packages. I'll get 2 or 3 lbs. and send it along if you like. 

Oh darling, I'm so hungry for you. If I could only hold you to me a little while! I’d better go now, before I melt away— 

I love you, Phil darling— 

Your Eve 

P.S. Ruth is trying to get me a decent pen. Milt promised to take my typewriter to a shop situated across the street of their store the next time he comes in. 

P.P.S. Forgot to enclose Jack's letter as I mentioned in a previous letter. Here it is. 

Hans Crescent Club 

February 6, 1944 

Sweetheart,

This is my second night in London—and I have just about given up hope that Ed will put in an appearance. Needless to say, I'm deeply disappointed. The only thing that could have happened, as I see it—is that he failed to get a pass. Certainly 15 or 16 days is time enough for him to get my message. However, I had foreseen the possibility that he wouldn't make it—so I instructed him to look for my message at the info. desk. In this manner, I was able to leave the club without the fear of missing him. I made perfectly sure in my notes that he would know where to look for me anytime at all during the day. But, apparently, it was all for nothing. I haven't given up hope of arranging a meeting, yet, though. You can bet I'll keep trying. 

I'm sorry, Sweet, that I was unable to write on both the 4th and 5th, but circumstances made it unavoidable, as you shall soon see. Perhaps this “longie” [I hope] will serve to compensate you somewhat for the two letters I didn't write. You see, Honey, on the evening of the 4th, I was so busy getting everything ready for the trip that I'm didn't allow for anything else. I had to shine my shoes, run around to borrow hankies and underwear because my last two week’s laundry never came back and a dozen other trifling details that consumed the evening. As for the 5th, I'll come to that presently. Anyhow, I arrived in London yesterday about 5 P.M. It was a clear, sunny day, and looked and felt almost like Spring. The countryside, viewed from the train window was very pretty and I enjoyed the ride—for a change. This trip, the train was right on time (unbelievable—but true). I wasted no time at all, you can bet, heading for the Hans Crescent, and, I was almost afraid to hope—Eddie. You can appreciate my chagrin, then, when on arriving there and inquiring at the desk, I learned that Eddie had not checked in. I hung about hopefully for awhile, but as I was very hungry, I decided to leave a note for Ed, should he come, and go to the Eagle Club for supper. Almost the first person I saw when I strolled into the lounge at the Eagle was “Junior” Crossman! Remember that tintype I sent you a while back that you disliked so much? Well, “Junior” is the tall, good-looking Canadian-American on my right hand. He's a nice kid, no foolin’, and I think he was as glad to see me—as I was to see him. He told me that “Streamer,” the other guy on that tintype, was hurt while on manuevers. Well, Chippie, we “chewed the fat” for a while and then, discovering that neither of us had eaten supper, and the Eagle being overfull, we decided to look for a place to eat. We found a cozy little place called “Chicken Inn” in Haymarket. We dined very satisfactorily on hamburger steak with onions, boiled potatoes and cabbage. For dessert, the menu said “creamed caramel.” Alas, it didn't nearly live up to the picture suggested by the name. It tasted like nothing at all—and was I disappointed. Supper over, we wandered out into the street—and the mob, and when I say mob, I speak as a cosmopolite who has had experience with crowds in New York and good ole Philly. In the last named places, the pedestrians at least gave the motor traffic the privilege of using the streets. Over here, they're not that magnanimous. The poor taxi drivers are forced to crawl along behind the pedestrians at snail’s-pace. They don't even dare blow their horns in protest. And what a mob! A civilian (any sex) is a rare, almost extinct creature. If you want to see the United Nations, Chippie, come to London. Oh, darling, if you only could! Where was I? Oh yes, we were “drifting with the tide,” as it were, when we noticed we were just outside the Leicester Sq. Theatre, where Olson and Johnson are starting their run in “Crazy House.” Junior was all for dragging me in. I insisted on “Phantom of the Opera” at the Odeon—or ”As Thousands Cheer” at the Empire. Junior is easy to get along with, so we walked? on, etc., etc. until we came to the Odeon. Well, Chippie, we took one look at the queue, did a prompt about-face and pushed our way across the street to the Empire. Same thing! (only more so); honestly, Chippie, that was the longest line I ever saw. It was fully a hundred yards and four rows deep. All at once the comparatively “unbusy” Leicester Square Theatre seemed a very nice place to be. And that's how come we saw “Crazy House.” It's the usual Olsen and Johnson slap-stick. Very funny in spots and very unfunny in others. In between there is some pretty good music and “production numbers.” Not a complete flop—just fair entertainment—and better than nothing at all, if’n you know what I mean. After the show, we parted company, as Junior had to be back in quarters. I don't have to tell you where I went. You guessed it! Just like a homing p-i-g-e-o-n, (no d, Chippie) I headed for the ever-lovin’ Turkish Baths. From then, until I was “tucked in” about two hours later, it was a repetition of all the other times. The fellow in the bunk next to mine turned out to be a communist and something of a philosopher, and, like most communists, nothing would do but that he expound his philosophies to me. Luckily, I wasn't a bit sleepy, so I listened patiently and attentively while he discoursed for fully half an hour. When, at the end of that time, he paused to take a breath—I began. His smug convictions rather irritated me, and consequently, I determined to pick his pet theories to pieces if I could, and I had detected dozens of flaws in his logic as he rambled on, so I had plenty to work with. Lady, you should have heard me for the next half-hour, it would have made you proud—I even surprised myself! I proceeded to take the essence of his theories, and slowly, surely, uncontestedly, and irrevocably—tore it all to hell. So irrefutable was my logic, that the dazed and disillusioned “commy” could only lie and stare. Long after I had ceased talking, he was still trying fervently and concentratedly to find the answers to my arguments. When I fell asleep, he hadn't yet found them. I have to laugh now when I think of it. I don't know if you see the humorous side of the little episode, but it certainly tickled me. This morning my “friend” lost no time in starting the conversation again, but he painstakingly stayed clear of theorizing and philosophizing. We talked of our respective families and our work. When we got around to the latter, I discovered that he used to be an importer of costume jewelry from America. This immediately brought to mind those “zircon” pieces you were asking about in your “longie” of 8 Jan. I told him of your request and he convinced me that I was a fool for trying, or even thinking of buying anything of the sort here in England. The prices, if you could find the stuff in the first place, are roughly five times what it would be in the States. Besides, there is 100% purchase tax on “luxury” items of this type. So, Baby, I guess you'll just have to bide your time until I get home to go shopping with you. All out of paper, now, Honey, and it's too late to get more 'cause the info. desk where I got this is closed, so I'll say so long for the time being. I’ll continue tomorrow. G’night, Sweet,—I love you. 

February 5, 1944—through 8th 

Dear Phil, 

I certainly got one big kick out of receiving your V-mailed birthday greeting. Thanks a lot. 

This looks rather odd, skipping a whole line between lines. However, I feel I must do something to atone for the near legibility of my train written letter you should have received long ago. About that, I must comment in passing. Like I read to Ev, I had no intention of sending it to you via her. Why, I can't exactly say because the reason won't come to my conscious mind, but remains vaguely in my subconscious thinking gear. Perhaps you can bring the matter to light for me. Will you try in your next? 

And now to answer your letter I skipped because I was anxious to get off the one about my visit to your loved ones. Incidentally, wanting to get it off as soon as possible, and not wanting to wait until I got your address from Ev (which I thought I had all along) is the reason I sent it to Ev first. 

While I was there, I read about your furlough which “now they gave it to you” and about your eye, “the roving one” and I sure do think Evelyn is among the most fortunate of wives of “ponded” servicemen. Not alone for how endeared you are to each other, but for the fact she has a husband who if he hasn't mastered the use of the written word has come so near doing so that only the severest and most learned of critics can discern what little lack there might be to perfection. Through your letter, you come as close to her as it is humanly possible under the circumstances. 

When you said to me that my position was more likely not permanent in relation to the army you scored a possible. (Incidentally, I was one of the four in my whole company who did likewise with an M-1 when we had to zero our rifles at 300 yds. and hit five silhouettes in the shimmering snow starting at the first, which was 100 yds. distant and progressing to the fifth, which was 500 yds. away. Not bad, eh? I used only 5 bullets and approximately 40 seconds.) I'm not doing photography anymore. My company officers deigned to sever themselves as much as officially possible from the Engineers board with whom I was doing said photography, which left me with my company, severed. 

Now, I am one of the boys, and it's not too bad, especially since I'm looking forward to being transferred to a photographic assignment such as I outlined to you that night I rode with you to the bus depot in New York. I expect it to come through because of the seeming sincerity of the important office working girl I saw at the Eng. Corps office. On my account, she's called Washington several times. This last, when I was there, she learned my transfer was in progress and told me so. Here's hoping. 

It was very interesting to learn of your “sexual status,” especially since I see how utterly different is that of the married men here. Unless it's just braggadocio, fully 85% of them “get it here” in Colorado. 

Now I'm about to resume after a three day lapse between “Dear Phil” and the above “Now.” I took a trip to Colorado Springs. It's a beautiful city and its natural wonders are many. Next trip I shall see the wonders. This trip I saw a lot of dancing, wide clean avenues of modern businesses and beautiful homes, the one synagogue during Sunday services, after which a Jewish meal was served, and a delightfully soft bed in a sparkling clean, if not up-to-date, hotel room. The $2.00 charge seemed ridiculously cheap, but who am I to worry about the $3 more I would gladly have paid the owner had I known how nice it would be. 

We departed at 9:00 P.M. Phil, it's impossible to describe the feeling that awes as you as through the speeding auto window you see majestic snow capped mountains as they rise gloriously from white covered plains. Their shapes are moon silhouettes, each a seeming fantasy in black and white. The ribbon of white that centers the winding road is easily discernible, sans headlights, so bright the night. 

The distance of 160 miles, the last 18 of which were snow and ice, was covered in three hours because traffic is nil. The Springs thermometer never read below fifty. The Hale, fifty below. No, I'm kidding (about that night) it was only 18 below zero. 

I’ve received Mail from Evvie. Suffice it to say that each of her letters (beautifully written, too), and yours tends to make me more aware of the rarity that is our friendship. In it (the friendship or this letter) she asks, and I quote, “How have you fared in your correspondence with Adeline? Do you realize, Jack, that the girl you marry will be my closest friend, as close (in friendship—ed.) as you and Phil? I can't help wondering about “her,” the future Mrs. N.” 

I'm sure it wasn't necessary, but I couldn't resist the parenthesized observation. Just as I couldn't resist saying “about 12,000 feet.” after I'd written someone, “I shared a bottle on the bus back to Camp Hale from Denver and got to feeling high, 

As Ever, 
Jackie 

Post #286 - February 4, 1944 I Sent the Benises a Letter and A Letter from Eddie Paller

 

February 4, 1944

Dearest,

Yours of 27 Jan. (v-mail) informed me of your desire for Halvah. I'll try my best to get some, for it is scarce. Jack N. sent me your letter as he could not find your address. He stated that he preferred to have you tell me the contents rather than have me read it. Looks like he's “gone” again, hook, line and sinker. 

I sent the Benises a letter. I'll write to the Toppys later as I don't care to start a fresh, outburst. I also wrote to Jean Levin and Jack N. last night. 

Adele said “sh” every time she had to go today. When she finishes, I pat her and kiss her. Today, she didn't wait til I did—she patted herself for being so good. When I put her to sleep this afternoon I went over to the yarn shop to secure my instructions and the wool for Mom’s sweater. Mom’s sweater will be made with a stitch I've never done before. It's hard to explain, but it has a ridge effect with a flower like twist. The girl at the shop had never seen Adele's blue outfit completed, so I showed her that particular snap I like so well. She liked it immensely and asked my permission to display the snap on the wall as a sort of example of her instructions. It received many favorable comments while I was there. I have to make up a few more as I don't have a one on hand. 

I’m enclosing the other 8 snaps and all my love. 

Your Eve 

P.S. Sorry this has to be so short. I have loads of pressing and want to finish tonight. Today is exactly 6 months since you were “home.” I laughed myself silly over Jack's letter—it's that cute. “Hya beautiful” I love you!

P.S. ”Jr.“ I’ll positively take your advice and send a package monthly. I intended to do so anyway. Harry and Goldie sent off a package to Harry Wyman, of tuna, sardines, etc. Would you like something like that? Harry S., by the way, is presently on the night shift and spends his whole day in town betting on the ponies. 

P.P.S. Is my mail to you censored? This pen is a pain. Ruth got a nice one for 59 cents and I'll get one, too. 

February 4, 1944

Dear Phil,

Received your letter the 31st of Jan. so if you figure it out, it took six days for your letter to reach me. You probably have returned from London a little downhearted because I wasn’t there, so here’s the answer. Our outfit cannot get any transportation on weekends such as Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I’m just writing back because I tried ever since Monday to get a pass.

I received your letter of Dec. 6th on Jan. 13th, just one day after you was supposed to go to London. We had just returned from training, so that’s why it took so long. What rotten luck! I’m getting pretty disgusted, you setting dates and me not being able to meet you. How long are your passes? Ours is good for 36 hours. We usually (always) stay at the Hans Crescent Club, so how about the 16th or 17th of February? I’d be able to meet you there again. You should have time to write back before the 17th of February, so hurry and let me know which day (date). I must hear from you before the 17th. Any day except Friday, Sat. and Sunday. Remember, I’m just as anxious to meet you as you are to meet me. I’m sure it will make both our hearts lighter and morale better. Something I forgot. When we get our 36 hour passes, we start out at 8 in the morning and usually get in London about 1 or 2. Some of the boys from our outfit have been in London already, and they told me.

Haven’t heard from anybody in the last five days, but today I heard from all. Eve keeps writing and wants to know if we met. I’m fine and well, hope you are, too.

Write back the day you receive this letter, else it may be too late. I am hoping we will get together shortly. (Write back in a flash.)

As Ever,
Your brother-in-law
Eddie

Post #285 - February 2, 3, 1944 The Pictures Were Ready Today and I’m Disappointed and The Letter was From Izzy Gutkin

 

February 2, 1944

My dearest darling, 

It's 10:00 P.M. (you're probably in dreamland) and this letter won't be posted til tomorrow. I had no time to write earlier in the evening as I just returned from a movie (went with Betty and Sarah) “His Butler’s Sister” (D. Durbin, F. Tone) (very enjoyable). I should go to bed, having to go to Miss Hans tomorrow, but I'm in a mellow and letter-writing mood and I'm sure you won't mind if I linger a bit. I long to draw you close, embrace you and know the warmth and sweetness that is you, my dearest. My darling, expression of the love I bear you goes beyond, far beyond, any comprehension and words are unable to tell you of the depth and immensity of my adoration and love and pride in you. Sweetheart, I'm lonesome and so hungry for you—

The pictures were ready today and I'm disappointed, for not one of them is to my liking. See for yourself. Yours of 20 Jan. was delivered next door and I didn't have receipt of it til dinner time. You sound so sweet and loving I want to hug and kiss you. I'm going to get rid of most of your clothes as I want you to have a complete new wardrobe when you come home. Then you went on about a New Years we spent together, your sideburns in the picture (I don't rightly know why I like them on you, but I do) Adele's reaction to your picture, etc. I'm sure she'd love her daddy to bits and does now, though she can't show it. She's gotten very loving of late. When I put her to sleep, she cries. If I lift her out of bed, if only for just a moment, she kisses me, of her own free will. She's not so dumb, eh? It's so funny to watch them learn and they do learn quickly, especially when it comes to being spoiled. However, I don't think you can use the word “spoiled” in connection with Adele. She is definitely not spoiled. Sweet, unspoiled and mischievous are more fitting. Mom, Adele and I walked up to the yarn shop today, finally selecting wool for her sweater. It's to be two-tone—gold and chocolate brown. Adele didn't wet for over two hours and could hardly wait til we got home to be placed on the potty. Then she really “wet”! Mom and I received our checks—$20 and $62.00 as usual. So far, Mom has received an increase of $17.00 per month, as Jack's check was for $37 and a few days previously, Mom received a check for $34 to cover the retroactive period. As for me, it will all come in a lump sum. Ann has been getting $80 regularly since December. I paid in full for my fur coat and paid my board. Our debt is $60 and that will be wiped clean shortly. After owing money for over two years, it's a good feeling to know you've paid. 

I'm not sending out a Valentine, as you always seem to like my own thoughts better than those expressed on a card. More of this tomorrow, baby, as it is late and I must be up early. How I long to cuddle up to your back (sigh)—Good night, Phil. 

February 3, 1944 

Here I am again. 

To Phil, so sweet, so kind 
You've made my life on earth divine. 
From the sublime to the ridiculous, if you don't mind, 
I'm sending you this to save a dime. cont.— 

That was my last green sheet. Who said anything about pied stationery? 

I love you dearly (this must rhyme)
So won't you be my Valentine? 

P U, Maybe I should have spent the dime. Oh well, can't say I didn't try. 

Mom promised me a belated birthday gift for Adele if the raise came through on her allotment. Consequently, she gave me $5. I want to buy Adele a gold bracelet. She loves jewelry (just like a woman—did you say) Whenever anyone puts a ring on her finger or bracelet on her arm, she holds her hand at arms length and admires and admires. What's more, when she's all dressed up and I take her to the mirror and say “my how pretty you look” she pats herself as if to say “I know Mommy.” What a kid!! 

Goldie informs me that her stepmother has made a gorgeous pinafore for Adele. Goldie’s folks have close friends, manufacturers of underwear, lingerie, etc. and she has access to many lovely remnants. In her letter to Goldie, she described the pinafore thusly (and I'm dying to see it): It's baby blue silk material, very full skirt, ruffled shoulders, trimmed with a sort of rosebud material. Sounds scrumptious, doesn't it? That's what Sarah calls Adele—a rosebud. Please, sweet, try to get a letter off to the Silvers and thank them for their every kindness. I shall send off a thank you letter, too. 

I worked a few hours for Miss Hahn. I received the enclosed letter from Jack N. and I'm sending it along because I think the last paragraph so clever and original. I shall answer him shortly. 

In reading over, I notice that I neglected to mention the style and stitch of Mom’s sweater-to-be. It will be a plain chocolate brown coat sweater with a gold Y O K E. It's rather difficult to explain the stitch. I'll go into more detail when I get my instructions. We didn't have time to wait for them, so I just left a deposit on the wool.

I'm glad you finally got a cigarette lighter that serves the purpose. How is the crystal of your watch wearing? I once mentioned cost of it to Snuff and he didn't seem to think it was worth it as plexi glass or whatever it's called has a tendency to scratch. Do you find this is so? 

I don't think I'll be able to send all 16 pictures at one time, so I'll divide them and sent 8 at a time. Adele is wearing Gloria’s gift of skirt and blouse in several poses and the sweet blue and white pinafore in others. If you look closely, you'll see most of the family and the neighbors on the porch. We sure did have an audience. I looked “peaked” in these snaps, as I had had very little sleep the preceding night. The suit and coat photographed well, even if I didn't. The best are those of Natalie and Adele. Room enough to send a long sweet kiss and a great big “I LOVE YOU” 

Your Eve 

P.S. Mailed off 5 letters the other night, one to Dot, asking why she doesn't contact me. 

February 3, 1944 

Ev, darling, 

The fourth consecutive mail-less day and I hardly know how to begin—But now that I have begun, I'll try very hard to fill a coupla of pages anyhow. The first sentence is untrue, technically, ’cause, I did get a letter today (though how it ever reached me is a little beyond my understanding). It came as a great surprise, since I had no idea he (the writer) was in England. Nothing on the address was right except my name, but it reached me within 12 days. He learned from some source that I am in England, and being unable to procure my address, wrote to the “Stars and Stripes” for it. The address they gave him was certainly a weird conglomeration of long numbers. Nevertheless, through the good offices of a kind providence and a sublime faith in the veritude of the press, he managed to get the letter through to me. (Well—that's one page—and all I've told you is that I received a letter.) I didn't even tell you the guy’s name yet. (Wonder if I could use enough words in the process to fill this sheet?) No fair peekin’! Enough of this, Sweet; after all, how do I know you're in the mood for tomfoolery?* The letter is from Izzy Gutkin, and he says he's been over here for “some time now.” He wants me to write and arrange a meeting, and I certainly will try. He asked, too, to be remembered to all you at home. If this keeps up, we'll soon all be “living”? in England. Let's hope it don't “keep up” much longer. 

Yesterday I was busy all day and in the evening I was weary and drowsy and blue and generally in no mood to write. 

Today I was busy again getting the boys’ money down to the Finance Office. You’d be surprised at the amount of work entailed in this procedure, which is comparatively simple in civilian life. I'm well rested, though, and I'm feeling pretty good tonight. There's no movie on Thursday, and it's too damn cold and windy out to walk down to the Snack Bar, so I'm taking it easy this evening in the hut. 

Well, Chippie, day after tomorrow, I'm leaving for London to meet Ed (I hope). I added the paren ’cause I'm not sure he'll be there. I've been expecting to hear from him daily, but as yet—nothing. I'm hoping he'll be at the Hans Crescent Club to meet me, though. 

That's about all for tonight, my Sweet; if there is mail tomorrow, you may expect a “longie”; if not—V-mail. Give my love to all the folks. All my love to you, darling, and a big hug and kiss for the punkin. G’night now.—

Yesterday—today—tomorrow 
Your Phil 

*(Some day I'll explain that asterisk). 

Post #284 - February 1, 1944 Adele Can Turn This Place Up-Side-Down in 2 Minutes and That Was a Perfect Night—in Every Respect

 

February 1, 1944

Dearest Darling, 

One of Mom’s checks and Glo’s arrived today. The check representing Jack’s allotment was in the amount of $37. In the afternoon, your v-mail of the 24 Jan., made me feel mighty good. Don't worry, honey, I'll be more than thankful for any amount you send, but knowing that you're doing your utmost makes me very happy; Also, the news of demobilization when the European theater is won. 

I'll have to wait til my check and Mom's other one arrives before I can determine the amount of increase. 

Natalie made Adele a red oilcloth dog and she is quite attached to her “wow-wow.” Adele looks precious in her cocoa brown dress (Dot’s gift) pink sweater, white shoes and socks. That brownish color is definitely “her” color and is flattering, especially to her hair. 

The days are getting longer, it gets light earlier and stays light later. The wind was so strong today that for a moment I thought it was March. I wore the “harness” most of the day. In the late afternoon I had to take it off! I feel better in it physically, but not being used to it, I'm unable to bend, etc. 

Adele nods “no and yes.” She saw me squeeze her rubber dollie to make it whistle and promptly followed suit. She pushed the playpen into the dining room. She takes something from me (in the living room) to Mom (in the kitchen) and then back again. When I put her on the toddy and she “goes,” she wears the most surprised look you ever saw. When she wets her diaper and sees I'm sore, she hugs and kisses me or tries to get me interested in something else. At these times I scold her (no more spankings 'cause she's usually obedient) and she looks at me forlornly. She sort of cries like a pup to be put on the toddy or potty, whatever the case may be. She can turn this place up-side-down in 2 minutes flat. The kids (Nat. and friends) next door gave Adele a puzzle with a box, and she busied herself by placing each piece of puzzle into the box. She's still very clumsy and isn't at all steady on her feet. I'm going to buy her shoes this week or next as her present ones are completely shot. The leather on the tips wore off. 

Ruth got me a box of chiclets for you to start off your next package. Anything you want me to add? I can get more candy from Rae if you like. Ruth mailed off the package of chocolate straws, chocolate creams and hankies a few days ago. She will also mail off the other packages (for English children) as the requests arrive. Keep on requesting! The snaps may be ready tomorrow and I’m mighty anxious to see them. I adore you my own sweet Phil. A kiss from Adele smack on the lips, then one from 

Your Eve

February 1, 1944

Evvie Dearest,

The first of a new month (how they fly!) and I was busy all day taking care of the deposits for the boys. I, myself, am forwarding $75 along. I left myself about $19.00 for my pass coming up on the fourth of this month. As you can see, I can't very well afford to gamble anything this month, so don't expect any more than the usual $30 next month. 

There was no mail at all today, and aside from vanilla ice-cream, nothing worthy of note took place. This evening I watched the boys play cards for a while and then started this. I'm rather weary, having put in a full day, which literally flew by. 

Red is feeling much better today and looks and acts more like his old self. He hasn't received any mail for a long time due to his moving around so much. I showed him the latest batch of Adele's pictures and he thought they were very nice. We still talk about that evening last summer when I brought Red home with me. Remember how lovely it was, Sweet? And how peaceful? That was a perfect night—in every respect, and I would dearly love to live it over again. But I guess that holds true for any and every night I ever spent with you, my darling. Love from 

Phil

Post #283 - January 31, 1944 I Also Had a Letter from My Brother, Telling Me of Your Plans to Meet and Having Prepared the Bunk with No Less Than Five Blankets…

 

January 31, 1944

Darling Mine, 

Believe it or not, I actually got into town today and had my corset adjusted. It fits and feels much better and I'm going to try to wear it daily. I feel swell today. Adele slept straight through the night, and although I hit the hay after 11, I awoke feeling rested—first time in many weeks. I cleaned the place and about 10:30 Betty asked me if I could go into town with her and Sarah as Dewees was having a sale. Ruth has off til Friday and took care of Adele. I'm going to work for Miss Hahn on Thurs. 

Yours of 23 Jan. v-mail was in the mail this morning along with a v-mail from Jack S. He has been assigned as warehousemen and has given up the idea of transferring to the Air Corps. It's an easy job and has responsibilities which I think may earn him stripes. I also had a letter from my brother telling me of your plans to meet. Lots of luck and I hope you make it this time. 

About the sale, I came darn close to buying a winter white ($10 reduced from $15) but Sarah told me to wait til they knocked them down further. Being in no particular need for a dress momentarily, I decided to wait. If they reduce them still further, I'll be able to get two or even maybe three. 

The Reisners and Meadoways paid us a visit few days ago. I meant to tell you, but always forgot. They all asked to be remembered to you. I also ran into Helen Bellis with the baby last week while on my way to Broad St. She looks swell and proudly displayed a wide circlet of diamonds presented to her by Izzy for their anniversary and her having the baby. I couldn't see the babe as he was bundled to the hilt. 

I've almost completed Mickey's fascinator and intend to get wool for several sweaters this week. Betty is going to work for Sears Roebuck 35 hrs. a week (7 hrs. a day—9 to 5) at $0.60 per. 

My grandma is back on her feet and I can hardly wait til she gets out again. 

Sweet, I always have so much to say, but so little time to write as I wish. When I have time to sit and write and write—I can say what is in my mind just the right way. At times such as this, I have to “dash off” a letter and say whatever comes to my head or you wouldn't get a letter. Please bear with me, darling, if my letters are not always up to par as yours usually are, as it is customary for me to get off three or four letters in less than two hours. 

I've got an unbearable urge to make love to you at the moment. Never mind, though, 'cause I'll make up for every moment I felt thusly. Pucker up, sweet, 'cause you're about to be soundly kissed SMACK. I adore you, Phil!! 

Your Eve 

P.S. I have two sets of stationery that Ruth got at the 5 & 10 with U.S. Army printed at the top. Can you use them? 

January 31, 1944

My darling,

Tonight I am C.Q and having prepared the bunk with no less than five blankets, I am all set to write to my heart's content. Your 17 Jan. V-mail arrived this afternoon, and it aggravated me because you had utilized every bit of space within the borders. It made me wonder why you didn't deign to use the regular letter form. I'm sure there is much more you could and would have said if space permitted. Please, Chippie, use the V-mail form only when you have nothing at all to say. You make me feel cheated when you squeeze all your writing in. At that, the last line was only half there, and I had a helluva time deciphering it. That's the line asking me what I want for my birthday. A question like that shouldn't come as an afterthought, to be jammed into the very margin and almost obliterated. Thanks for asking. Sweet, but there is really nothing I need or want over here, (except those few things that I mentioned a while back, namely: hankies, underwear, candy and that picture I keep harping about.) Now that I think of it, I would like an overseas cap with Ordnance braid size 6-7/8. If you are ever in town and in a position to do so, you might buy one for me. However, it must meet all three requisites. The price should be between $1.50–$2.00. I don't suppose it's too early to start talking about birthdays and Wedding Anniversary's, etc., considering that they are all in March, only six or seven weeks away. I don't suppose I'll be able to send you anything that you may want, situated as I am, but I certainly would like to try, so please, Baby, give me some idea as to what you would consider a swell birthday gift, and a fitting anniversary gift. At least if I'm unsuccessful in obtaining the things over here, I can send you the money to buy them “over there.” 

Today was pay-day and tomorrow I'll send off seventy or eighty dollars, I'm not entirely sure yet if I'll be able to spare the higher figure. Today I worked mostly on the files, and at last I'm beginning to make progress. I could have had them in shape long ago, only there are always more immediate concerns popping up and I get very little time to fuss with them. Once I do get them set up, though, my work will be greatly facilitated. Too, in their present condition, they are a constant source of annoyance, chiefly because I have all the other aspects of my work under control. It bothers me that this one problem is left unsolved week after week. But now that I'm spending every spare minute on the task, I feel better about it. 

This evening I had supper with Red. The big lug has caught himself a beaut of a cold and he feels miserable as hell. To top it off, he has to pull guard duty tonight. Poor guy—I feel sorry for him. 

There's no coal or coke or anything here in the Orderly Room with which to make a fire, and it's getting colder by the minute. Naturally, so am I. As a matter of fact, I'm seriously considering dashing over to my hut for a couple more blankets. Right now, I am so uncomfortably chilly, that I find it difficult to gather my thoughts (such as they are.) By the way—how has the heater been percolatin’ this winter? Has it given you any trouble? Is the house always good and warm? Baby, when I think back and remember the ease and warmth and general congeniality of home and family—well it's just impossible to describe the extent of my yearning to return to it all. The guy who said “there's no place like home” must have been a soldier—no one else is in a position to really appreciate the glory of home. Well, darling, it's very near six months since I last saw you and “home,” but I just can't feel that it will be that long before I see you again. For me, the end is always “just around the corner.” That, I suppose, is because I want it to end—so desperately. Call it wishful thinking—if you will, but you can't deny that it's a good way to feel. It's certainly kept my morale high all the while, and I'm still as confident as ever that it'll be “any day now.” And what if I'm wrong and that day is sometime next year, what will I have lost by feeling that way? You said it! Not nearly as much as I will have gained from peace-of-mind. 

Your constant allusions to the way the punkin is “getting around” these days is a new source of unease for me. I guess I'm a worry-wart, but I keep “seeing” her falling down stairs and picking buttons and things off the floor and putting them in her mouth, etc., etc—. You do keep a constant eye on her, don't you, Ev? Sometimes I think it's a good thing I'm not at home these days. Seems to me I'd be afraid to go around the corner for fear of losing sight of her for an instant. Bet I’d be a regular old “fuss-budget.” 

It's very still and very cold here in the Orderly Room now, and I'm beginning to pine for your voice to break the stillness, and for your body to drive the chill from me—and that, my Sweet, will never do. I don't relish the idea of lying awake half the night in this cold—just wanting you—and wanting you—and wanting you— 

So I better sign off right now—with a fond embrace—and a sweet kiss—and those three little words for your own little ear: “I adore you.” Now be a good girl and snuggle-up to 

Your Phil

Post #282 - January 30, 1944 Uncle Sam is Working at the Navy Yard Making Excellent Wages and Who Should Walk In But Red Barnhart!

 

January 30, 1944 

Darling, 

Mom couldn't stop talking about Uncle Sam's apartment. She said no one could want anything nicer. Lena and Bob may buy house, as their house was sold and they have been given notice to vacate by the end of Feb. It seems Syd mistook the package I sent him, as a gift from Phil and Emma, and sent them a nice thank you letter before he discovered his error. Uncle Sam is working at the Navy Yard making excellent wages. Yale and Shirley are coming home on furlough sometime in Feb. Adele looks through her picture books with interest and points to the “wow-wows.” Adele loves fur; likes to rub her nose in it. You ought to see her play with her ball! She pushes it under the couch and then flattens out on the floor like a puppy to see where it is. She pushes it here, throws it there and plays a sort of “cat and mouse” game. Phil, it's so hard to tell you every little thing she does and understands. Suffice it to say that she understands everything. If she drops something and I ask her to pick it up, she does. If I tell her to sit down, she sits down. She isn't always obedient though. I had her over at my mom's today. She was seated at the piano and had a grand time banging on it. My folks darn near ate her up. I love you, Phil, and want very much to hold you close at this minute. 

Your Eve

  

January 30, 1944 

Sweetheart, 

Last night, just as I was getting getting to write to you, who should walk in but Red Barnhart! We had been informed earlier in the day that we were to pick up a “replacement.” There was a great deal of conjecture among the guys in the Orderly Room as to what the “new man” would be like. Imagine, then, how surprised we were when the “new man” turned out to be good ole Red. However, he's not really the same Red that left here some three months ago. He is thin and drawn and generally in pretty bad shape. But, I think he'll be O.K. shortly. I certainly was glad to see the guy, though, even if there isn't as much of him as formerly. Anyway, we had a lot to tell each other and once we got to throwing the bull around, we forgot to stop. Before I knew it, it was time for lights out, and I didn't get that letter written after all. 

Received your 18 Jan. V-mail this afternoon, Baby, together with a V-mail from the Browns. I wish, Sweet, that you wouldn't write on V-mail and confine your writing to the comparatively small space—especially when there is much you have to say—as there was in yours at hand. There is some excuse for me and I never use it unless I'm absolutely at a loss for material for a real letter as I am tonight. The monotony of the routine is unallayed and there is absolutely nothing new to report. There are some things, though, even in constant repetition, never lose their appeal. In this category—three little words head the list: I love you. Love to all from 

Your Phil

 

Sunday, January 30, 1944 

Dear Ev, 

I arrived Sat. after a pleasant trip. 

Believe it or not, I don't mind being back. 

I've written Phil and believe me it was difficult to make words portray my emotions, but I did as best I could. 

You know I never did say thanks for the hospitality to you or Mom, but that's only an indication of how very close I feel to you all. Sort of like a brother or a son and I guess one of those doesn't say thanks either, under the circumstances. 

Well kid, I've got to get a pouchful of paper into reading shape and mail box fitted, so please excuse the abrupt “au revoir” and give my love to all. 

As ever, 
Jackie

Post #281 - January 29, 1944 Our Daughter is All of 14 Months Today

 

January 29, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Our daughter is all of 14 months today—a lady. Yeh man! Yours of Jan. 21 came and I wish you'd make up your mind—in one letter you told me to send letters regular—the next you say to positively send them air-mail. I'm betwixt and between—what shall I do? I'll send them air-mail regardless and that's that. Etta, Nat, Lena, Bob, Em and Phil are picking Mom up and taking her out to Chester. Pauline is having a house-warming. I'm working on Mickey's fascinator at the moment. I received a nice letter from Mickey Brown. He considers himself very lucky being in the Army 15 months and still here. He was recently reassigned and the old outfit went overseas. That's the second time that happened. Adele says “baw” for half and calls Natalie “nanna.” Did I tell you that Betty quit her post office job after one day? The hours were anywhere from 9:30 to 9—whenever you finished up—so she decided it was too much. She's on the lookout for sumpin’ else. It's time for me to love you, as I do at the close of each letter, so here I am adoring you to pieces on paper as well as actually again. 

Your Eve 

January 29, 1944

Dear Phil, 

How are you? I am fine and hope you are the same. I graduated from school yesterday and I again made the meritorious roll with five “E’s” and three “G’s.” From here on I am going to Olney and I just hope I like the school. I was glad to hear that you received the package for the English children, and I'm going to send two more off this week. When you receive them, don't forget to send out more requests. Hoping all is well with you and don't forget to write. 

Loads of love, 
Ruth