Post #314 - March 7, 1944 Adele Particularly Likes My Brother, Jack and Do Not Envy Anyone Anything, for in All Likelihood, You are More to be Envied

 

March 7, 1944 

My Sweetness, 

Yours lovingly of the the 28 and 29 Feb. received this morning. Sorry about the lone

v-mail but the others must have showed up by now. I sure hope your luck was good

on your investment. You, as well as I, feel badly about that two day pass. Please try

to figure your money more closely to provide for the future. Getting a monthly

allotment gives me an opportunity to look ahead and plan for the month. I do, but

sometimes I wonder about you. You asked our financial state, sweet, and I had

purposely kept you in the dark for I wanted to reach a certain figure before disclosing

our present condition. I think we are darn close, so here Tis. I'd say we aren't doin’

badly, but that doesn't give us any reason to slow up. Heretofore, when I say I'm

broke, I don't say it meaning that we haven't a cent to our names, but that our

allotment won't see me through a given month. Our bank account reads $155. Our

bonds total $450, plus an additional $8 in 25¢ stamps toward the latest bond. Our

debts are as follows: Mom - $60; Betty - $20 (for my coat and bag); Adele's

insurance (due in April) $54; Adele's stroller $? (About $15 or $20) (I hope). I have

funds for the carriage, so actually we owe $134. Those debts, however, will be wiped

clean with my "large" overdue allotment check, which I figure should total about $152

or thereabouts. All in all I figure us to be close to $500 clear, “our" savings. How does

that make you feel? That, however, is strictly between you and me and no one else.

I saved all the money you sent me, managing as best I could on what I had or made

at Miss Hahn's. Incidentally, she called me today and I shall be working for her all

day Thursday. That extra money will see me through the month beautifully. Once

my $80 comes through regularly and I pay $40 board, I shall endeavor to save $10

monthly, but I'm counting on you to do the "Big" things. Both Moms would like to see

me return to work if the war continues. It would afford us a chance to save for a

home of our own. I know that I want my own home above all, but I don't wish to

purchase it (if we can some day) immediately after the war. I want to see, first, what

your earning power will be before I make any post-war plans. I want some thing

concrete to plan on. Guess that covers all. Any comments? (The $450 figure is

maturity value by the way). It would be worth approximately $340 if cashed in.

(I'm not thinking of returning to work, not at the moment, at any rate). 

I shall have to withdraw $54 for the insurance if I'm to pay board and manage next

month. "You have it, Bud", to close the subject. 

I mailed off the Milky Ways this morning and one of Ruth's packages for the English

children. I got the latter through on your request for razor blades. If you're wondering

what to write to fill up space at times, please, remember to request chocolate.I can't send packages unless I have requests and I doubt if I have more than one

on hand at present. 

I expect to have the candy I ordered from Rae shortly and that will start off the

next package. 

Ethel felt the baby drop and I think the latest Chase will make its appearance most any day. I shall have to return Ethel's hichair before Adele is finished using it. I don't care, for my mother has a friend who has one down her cellar and told my mother she could have it. I understand it's a nice one,,all wood, with a leather seat and in good condition. I'll need it til she's past two and that will see me through. That takes care of a carriage and a hichair and I feel lots better. 

I doubt if you'll meet up with Milt for I hear he is headed for the Pacific. I have my fears about him more so than for any other one we know well, except Harry W. for Infantry never was to my liking. Bea Brown will be 16 on March 11 and is a regular "glamour babe."

March 18 is Goldie’s 23rd birthday, so try to remember it in one of your letters. By the way, did you ever get that letter off to her father? I haven’tt written, thanking them, for you said you would. Please do it immediately if you haven't. The address is: Mr. D. Silver, 502 Church Road, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. We had a card from Harry & Goldie and they are having a grand time

Adele brushes her lower lip with her fingers and makes a "bub-bub-bub-like" sound.

She is very imaginative (like her daddy) and “makes believe" constantly. Mom thinks

Adele has my. temperment, but I don’t think so. She pays no attention to Mom's

commands and sort of teases her if she can. Adele listens to me, though I must be

extremely firm. I can't help spoiling her myself, but those occasions are fairly far

between. I give her plenty of love - you ought to know! As much as I am privileged

to shower my love on her there is a terrible loneliness in connection with my loving you. They are two completed different. feelings and while hers keeps me busy the other is constantly there - for you, Phil. 

Adele particularly likes my brother Jack. It's no wonder - he gives her whatever she asks for or desires. He has a way with kids. 

I taught Adele to give me a "quickie" kiss. I kiss her cheek, a short, quick kiss, and 
she immediately returns it. When I'm lying down, she comes over and puts her head down beside mine. 

Dot called. She has her package ready to send out, but lost the request. I think I have one that I can spare. Don't forget to send requests!! When I told Dot I had bought another coat she was surprised. I didn’t tell anyone outside of the family what I paid for the fur coat or where I got it - so --I got them all thinking. I said I had gotten it at an unusual bargain price. Ellie's baby has the chicken pox, at the tender age of 9 months. Dot seems quite broken up, though she won't admit it." I'm afraid 
I know her too well. She can't kid me, and I think she knows it.

You said in your letter of the 29th that you dreamed of me and played a dirty trick on yourself - what was it - I'm all ears..I thought the asterisk stood for "Home" and all that it implies, but now I don't know. Am I right? I hate to be teased, as you well know. Come on, baby, out with it - oops - better put it back (I'll be good - honest). All my love, sweetheart.

Your Chippie

March 7, 1944

Eve, dearest,

Received yours of 15 Feb with Anne Furr’s letter enclosed. The mail situation gets no better. After I receive your letter of 25 Feb.—I get one ten days older. Do you wonder that I'm all mixed up?

Lucky Yale and Shirley to be able to get a furlough every few months. But we are luckier, Ev, in many ways. I'm sure you appreciate what they are, so do not envy anyone anything, for in all likelihood, you are more to be envied.

After a typically routine day, Burdine and I went to the movie to see “Miracle of Morgan's Creek” with Betty Hutton and Eddie Bracken. I enjoyed this one immensely and was sore from laughing afterward. It was just one hilarious situation after another, and the theater was in an almost constant uproar. Betty Hutton is as sweet and appealing in some scenes as she is rowdy and boisterous in others. She has a wonderful sense of dramatics and humor (a rare combination). To my mind, she is not only one of the most pleasing actresses, she is also the cleverest. Mark, my word, Chippie, she will yet make her mark in “straight” roles, although I'd hate to see her give up her singing and clowning. Eddie Bracken, too, deserves high praise. He is the perfect foil for Hutton, and makes the most of it. His performance, always good, is exceptional in this picture. The story itself is both clever and original. I wouldn't spoil it for you by telling you about it. If you can possibly manage it, Sweet, see it.

Today being Tuesday, we had ice cream at supper. On Tuesdays, too, we “air out” our beds and since it is late and I have not yet reassembled my bunk, I'll have to cut this short. My love to you, Adele, and all the family.

Devotedly,

Your Phil

Post #313 - March 6, 1944 Compared to the Majority of the Guys in the Company—I am an Old Man

 

March 6, 1944

My Darling, 

At last—some real mail! Your 11-pager of 23 Feb. arrived today. It was the first word I had that Adele was ailing with German Measles. Luckily, your V-mail of 25 Feb. arrived at the same time, advising me that her condition had improved much overnight, thereby saving me some anxious moments. I gather she's O.K. now—and I'm glad. Hope the worriment and extra work didn't affect you too much, Sweet.

In reading over your letters just now, I didn't see anything that calls for comment except a question you put about Wolpe’s proofs. Answer: I have them—and I mean to keep them. ‘Nuff said? Something else—you say you received my two letters of the 16th Feb. I don't remember writing two. Tell my mom, I'm sorry I didn't get the opportunity to say Kadish for Pop. 

Things are still pretty dull around here, and I haven't done anything worth writing about. I got to thinking today about reneging on my promise to send you something every month. The more I thought about it, the less I liked myself. Finally, I decided to fix it so the sorry performance would never again be repeated. I made out an allotment for a $25.00 bond to be taken out of my pay each month. That way I know I'll save something each month—come what may. I figure your $80.00 per month should see you through, so there is no real need for me to send my “surplus” home. However, whenever I do have a “surplus,” I'll send it along to you in the form of a bond. In the meantime I'll be automatically acquiring a bond a month which is in both our names as co-owners and will be mailed to you. I hope this meets with your approval, Chippie. 

Today—as if you didn't know—your old man added another full year to his previous twenty-eight. Compared to the majority of the guys in the Company—I am an old man, but strangely I don't feel old—I feel like I'm just biding my time to really start living—again. Of one thing I'm certain—I'm not too far gone to miss you terribly, and to feel the need of you acutely, my dear Chippie. On the other hand, looking at the situation from your side, “your Phil” will prove his sufficiency in every department and to your entire satisfaction (if’n you know what I mean) anytime, and whenever he next gets the opportunity to do so. (Wanna bet?) On the whole, I don't feel that the past year has deprived me of anything (materially speaking). Paradoxically, it has, to great extent, and in ways too numerous to mention, benefited me. If I do not feel myself any older, I certainly feel myself wiser. God grant an early end to our too-long separation, so that I might use my increased acumen to the best advantage of myself and my loved ones. My mind is increasingly pre-occupied with plans for the future—“our” future—and so gloriously happy are the situations I contemplate, that I can't help but feel impatient for the chance to translate my dreams into facts. I have been “dead” for so long now, that I am inexpressibly eager to resume “living” (as I used to know the meaning of the word). Biding time is a necessary evil—but nonetheless—an evil, and I would have done with it. 

Take care of yourself, my darling, and take care of my other darling, the ubiquitous (where's that dictionary?) punkin. I love you both so very much! My love to the family. 

Ever, 

Your Phil 

March 6, 1944 

Dear Phil,

Such is the world today that Americans who can spend their birthdays at home do so with the feeling, not of happiness, but of longing; and pray that their loved ones will share the next one with them here. 

You, who today celebrate your birthday by arc rather than by candle light, amidst bomb rather than amidst cake ruins, cannot look forward to happiness tomorrow that has evaded you for so many yesterdays. But your next, to be spent with those to whom you are so dear, that is a shining ray of hope to be encountered in the world you helped to bring peace back to. May the good Lord so deign. We’ll know He did when Adele Bara says “Happy Birfday, Daddy. 

As ever, 

Jackie

March 6, 1944

Dear Phil,

How are you? I received your v-mail and I was glad to hear from you. By the way, happy birthday! You wanted to know what subjects I've taken in school. They are bookkeeping, biology, practical math, arithmetic review, English and American Ideals, which is history and geography combined together. I got a letter and card from Harry Weinman and a letter from your brother Jack, I promise you that I will be your Valentine and that I will share you with Evvie and that I won't tell all the boys the same thing I tell you. Phil, do you have any small pictures of yourself? I would like to have one to put into my wallet. I just got through writing letters to Eddie, Harry and Jack, and my hands are breaking off, so I'll just have to cut you short. 

Lots of love, 

Ruth. 

P.S. Write and tell me if you need anything. 

P.P.S. We are mailing off some more of those packages for the English kids. 

Post #312 - March 4, 1944 This is Becoming a Real “Running” Letter and Just Received Two Birthday Cards

 

March 4th 1944 

Darling Hubby, 

Did I say spring was on its way? I take it all back, for today we had a young blizzard. It snowed all day long and is piled fairly high. I guess spring decided to wait awhile. 

Have you heard the latest tune “I Didn't Sleep a Wink Last Night”? Well, that applies to me and last night. Furthermore Adele refused to take her afternoon nap. When I awoke this morning, I felt dead on my feet. I pushed myself all morning hoping to get a nap in the afternoon. No such luck. Well, honey, have you any idea of how I feel at this moment? Every bone, muscle and tissue of my body aches and I'm terribly weary. I had to wash an accumulation of Adele’s things, clean up the house generally before I could let her roam about as I hadn't cleaned yesterday and there was an inch of dust over all. Sarah and Betty took Adele next door for an hour to give me a chance to finish. I wrapped and prepared your package for mailing and will get it off on Monday. 

Mom got a bill from Montifiore for $5.25 for care of the grave for 1943. I had a nice letter from my brother and he thinks my new stationery is “shrewd,” no less. 

Harry and Goldie left this evening. They couldn't get a cab and hated to wade through this blizzard since Goldie does not have goulashes. They walked out of the house, and lo and behold, an empty cab turns the corner. Harry hailed it, and they stepped right in. Harry, looks “shrewd” in his new outfit. It's neat and rich looking. 

I'm going to wash my hair, set it and shower, so I'll finish this tomorrow. I feel better that I've had my say for the day. I love you, angel. 

March 5th, 1944 

It is exactly five minutes to eleven and you are sound asleep—or are you? The reason I'm writing this late hour is due to the fact that I finally, yes, finally, got around to going to a movie. Anne called this afternoon, not wanting to go alone. The picture at the Lindley was “Old Acquaintance” with Betty Davis and I believe you said you saw it. I enjoyed the picture, but didn't care for the mood it put me in. Phil, dearest, I just had to write before going to bed for I don't feel right about skipping. This has been a bad week for me. I almost felt myself slipping into that old state of hopelessness. I thought perhaps my not being out for a month was the reason, but the picture tonight and being out didn't cure what ailed me. I guess I'm just a sentimental old fool, especially since we'll be spending another birthday apart. Don't hold it against me for saying the following: the tears are streaming down my cheeks as I write, the pain that gnaws at my heart is almost unbearable. There is a lump as big as an apple in my throat and an equally unbearable desire to take you into my arms and kiss and love you. It's the first time I've actually slipped, but I more or less expected it to hit me full force sometime this month. Don't worry, sweetheart, it will pass in a day or two I'm sure. Just one of those things. 

The absence of Harry and Goldie has been some what soothing to my rattled nervousness and the unbroken quiet of the house is relaxing. I shoveled the pavement, washed (my daily duty) Adele’s few things, shined all my shoes and did various other small things. I neglected to mention that Ethel will now have a steady maid—five days a week from nine to five. The girl is a young mulatto and I understand the pay is $10 per week. 

Adele had a slight accident today. I was dressing her to take her out. She was playing with an empty powder can. I took hold of her arm to put it in the armhole of the sweater. She tried to pull away and banged the can against her lip. It wasn't a hard blow, but it hit at just the right angle, making a nasty gash and the blood ran for a while. This turned my stomach up-side-down, but I applied a cold compress which stopped the bleeding. It's okay now, though it did unnerve me. I had her out for a short while in the afternoon. 

She has a new trick up her sleeve. When someone bawls her out or won't give her what she wants she sort of blinks her eyes as if to cry and makes a wry face. Boy, is she a faker! She always calls my dad “Pop” and he goes into hysterics every time he hears her call him “Pop.” 

You know, sweet, I feel lots better already. “Talking” to you always helps so much! How can mere words describe the depth of my feelings and love for you darling, when they are so immense and indescribable that they defy description? I don't think I shall ever be able to tell you really, actually and ably extent of my adoration to you, sweet Phil. 

You are probably interested in how I disposed of my check, which I also neglected to tell you. I gave Mom only $25, as Harry and Goldie are still paying $25 per week. (She has a month’s pay coming to her from the Signal Corps. and there is one more check due before they will drop to $20 per week.) $2.57 goes for insurance as usual. I've put aside $15 for Adele’s stroller. (I hope that's all it will be) and I owe a large milk bill. I owe the tailor $1.50 so far, took in tonight's movie, bought some ice cream and that’s as far as I've gotten this month. It's a good thing I didn't have to pay the $40 yet as I had expected to do. At least I'm not flat broke, though I may be before the month is out. I can't complain and don't intend to. 

And now, baby, it is getting very late and I'm getting very sleepy. Move over a little bit, honey, for here I come, ready or not. (As if you wouldn't be ready!) I love you, Phil! 

March 6, 1944 

This is becoming a real “running” letter and I hope it has a speedy flying trip to you. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Baby, and how does it feel to be 29? Gosh, but 29 seems far off for me. Seems to me you should have made another trip to London by this time and for all I know you may be there right now. Hope you had a nice time. 

Guess you heard about the quads born in England, as who hasn’t? What a man! It caused quite a fluster here. 

Milt Brown lost his wallet with $70 the other day and had to wire home for money. Please be careful, Phil, although I know you haven't any real excess on hand at present. 

I bought some “House of Westmore” powder and “pepper” red lipstick. 

Adele's latest words: why, nown for down, oo for Lou, up; She understands Jewish perfectly. When asked the following (henties, egela, tsingala, nasala, shicala) promptly points to same. (pardon all spelling, please.) I took the trouble to measure Adele's height and she is exactly 31 inches tall or just about up to my hip. I think she will be tall someday. She is for her age now.

March 6, 1944 

(Cont.) 

Do you realize, my darling, that today marks our seventh month apart? Seven months since I've known the sweetness of your lips, the touch of your hand, the adored feeling of you, darling. I can't help wondering how many more months will pass til we are reunited—physically. 

Your “shorty” of 27 Feb. was in the mail this morning, along with letters from Jack N. and Milt Brown. Milt said it would be his last letter for sometime, as they are no longer permitted to write. Guess you know what that means. You might even get to see him if he lands in the right place. 

I didn't get to bed til after 12 last night. Between then and 6:30, Adele got me up exactly six times. I'm getting to be a sleep-walker. Perhaps, it is a good thing you aren't here for you’d lose many a night’s sleep, and knowing what sleep means to you, I say it's to your advantage. 

I started to clean the blinds hoping to get started with the spring cleaning—no dice—I was too sleepy. I had put Adele up for her nap and simply threw myself across the sofa. No sooner had I relaxed when Adele awoke after sleeping perhaps 20 minutes. I let her cry herself back to sleep and turned over to take an hour’s nap.

Late in the afternoon Mom and I washed and dried all the dishes in the china closet (we hadn't cleaned the china closet for 2 yrs. and thought we'd give it a break.) Consequently (and what would you expect) I'm all in and more than anxious to “hit the sack” (as you would say). 

Ruth had a lovely long letter from Jack S. today though we haven't had mail for almost three weeks. Guess it's been held up. Ruth’s letter was dated Feb. 16. 

I wonder how we would have celebrated this occasion, dearest, I can remember a similar occasion—two years ago—I became pregnant—do you remember? It was this date according to my figures, and I'd like to recall it as your “birthday gift”—for so it was. It sure was some birthday gift, wasn't it? 

It's raining tonight and that will help to wash away the snow. I couldn't get the Milky Ways mailed off as the post office around here has a new ruling—they close at 1 P.M. daily. This makes it difficult for me, as I always go to Broad Street after putting Adele to sleep (about 12:45) and could not make it. Mom has agreed to care for her early tomorrow to give me an opportunity to get the package off. 

And now, sweet, I'm sure you won't mind if I close with all my love and kisses to the best hubby and daddy of them all—you!

Your Eve 

March 4, 1944

Eve, darling, 

Just received two birthday cards, one from Mom, and one from Miss Adele Bara Strongin (what a moniker!) The handwriting on the latter card, by some strange coincidence, looked exactly like yours, Chippie. Could it be the punkin was so indisposed that she prevailed upon you to address the envelope for her? Tell Mom, I thank her for remembering me on my birthday. Tell her I never did know her birthday. That is why she never received a remembrance from me. Seems to me she doesn't know herself exactly on what day she was born, but if she's wise, she'll make one up. (Think of all the fun, gifts, etc. she's passing up due to this oversight.) By the way, wifie dear, didn't you send off a card at the same time as the others? 

I'm still waiting for your next batch of letters, Sweet. I haven't had a “real” one (not V-mail) for eight days now. 

News here gets scarcer by the day. I still do the same things in the same way at the same time every day. Repeating the details of this routine would hardly come under the heading of “interesting reading,” and I would hate to impose anything else on you. So you’ll understand why my letters to you grow shorter and shorter. Thank God, though, there is one thing that doesn't deteriorate or diminish either in intensity or volume with the passing days—and that is the love and adoration of 

Your Phil