Post #320 - March 14, 1944 Adele Took Her First Walk to Ben’s to Get an Ice-Cream Cone and I Never was One to Go Hunting Trouble or Courting Danger

 

March 24, 1944 

DARLING HUBBY, 

No mail from you today, sweet, but I’m sure I'll have no difficulty filling up a page or two. I did get a check for $3.45 from S(harpe) & D(ohme). I had mentioned yesterday that I hadn’t to heard from them for some time, and they disproved my statement. We also had a letter from Harry W. in which he says "I might even be seeing Phil, if you know what I mean" Guess he expects to be moved over to England or sumpin'. 

 

Tomorrow is Ethel's anniversary and Al bought her diamond wedding band. He was going to buy her a diamond ring also, but found prices exceedingly high and decided to wait.

The weather was perfectly perfect today and I was out most of the day with Adele. It was so warm I used the walker outside. l cleaned our room, the living and dining rooms before going out in the morning with Adele. I was out from 11 to 11:45 when I brought her in for lunch. When she was asleep I dragged the ladder up from the cellar and proceeded to wash the ceiling and walls and woodwork of the porch in preparation for spring cleaning. I grew very tired in a short while and called it quits. Adele awoke, had her milk and out we went. Fay came over with her baby and we walked together. She had some film and made two snaps of Adele and me; one, includes her and her baby. Adele saw Goldie (she was sitting on the bench) eating an ice-cream cone and insisted upon having one. Whereupon she took her first walk toe Ben's to get an ice-cream cone (strawberry) and a stick pretzel. She had a grand time stepping up and down the curbs. When she finished we walked up to Ruscomb St. and back. Mikey's mother promised me an extra shoe stamp so I'm going to buy Adele her new shoes tomorrow. I think I'll have to get her the high ones for she needs extra support. Her legs are still a bit chubby and she has very small feet. Most of the kids are wearing 5 and 6. Her present shoes are 4 1/2 and they are big. We stopped over Anne's house and learned a that Richy has the croup. It's always sumpin' with kids. 

Goldie's shoemaker finally located her shoes and she's very happy about the newly found shoes. Harry took in the fights alone last night. He's out today trying to get his income tax properly filed. 

 

By the way, your daughter is anything but lady. She's such a roughneck at times that I wonder if she was meant to be a boy. She tears into the boys and knocks them down (she knocked Mikey flat) and she likes to pinch. She squeals with delight whenever she can grab enough flesh to pinch. She likes to 

pull up a person's dress and get to the flesh just above the stocking to pinch. (Reminds me of someone else, omitting the pinch) She tries very hard to repeat everything I say and makes some mighty good attempts. You can understand a hazy "thank you". She also uses to the words "nanna" for banana or any fruit at the moment.

Mrs. Frommer has an excellent doctor and recommended that Mom go to him for a thorough examination to make sure she is in perfect health. Mom made an appointment last night and went with Goldie. Her blood pressure is a little high and she weighs 169, which the doctor said is much, much too much. He'll put her on a diet and give her some vitamins to build up a resistance against colds and the such. Now that she has some extra money she is going to try to improve her health as much as possible. Maybe he'll be able to do something for her feet, too. Both Mom and Mrs. F. rave no end about him, saying he is a wonderful doctor. He is located at 13th and Wingohocking. 

That is all the "dirt" I can report on today. Don't go way cause I'm not finished yet. Come here, closer, closer ---- and let me kiss you, darling. Um, I liked that! Repeat! Lend me thine ear, baby - Do you recall my saying "I LOVE YOU, PHIL DARLING?" No. Well, here 'tis again, I love you, sweet! 

Your Eve 

P. S. It might make you happy to know that I shall definitely 

take that C.(lare) P.(ruett) picture early next week. I’m "due" this weekend and want to wait til my skin is perfectly clear. I'll try to make it on our anniversary so that I'll have something nice to remember for our "third". 

P.P.S. Adele was out for over two hours and held her water all that time. Boy did she let loose once she could. That ought to give you a pretty good idea of how well she is trained. I'm proud of that accomplishment. 

 

April 14, 1944.

Dearest Darling,

Very sorry I was unable to write these past two days, but circumstances which I am not permitted to indulge prevented my doing so.

In that time I received two packages—the Milky Ways and the candy for the British kids. The Milky Ways are being dealt with (yum! yum!). The other package was turned over to the Red Cross, who will see that it goes to the right source. Some kids are really going to enjoy those ”sweets”—you can be sure. Tell Ruth that I'm very grateful to her for her trouble.

Today brought me two letters from you, my Sweet. 21 Mar. and 25-26 Mar. The former was a “shortie” and the latter (with the snaps enclosed)—a “longie.” Yesterday, I received yours of the 29th. This V-mail is by way of being a hasty expedient, Baby, so I won't be able to answer your letters as I want to until tomorrow. Please understand that this hit-or-miss correspondence is very distasteful to me, Sweet, but that I have no alternative. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.

And now it is time for lights out. I feel much better that I managed to get off at least these few words. Good-night, my lovely, until tomorrow. A loving kiss for my vain lil punkin. My love to all.

Your adoring Phil

14 March 1944 

Dearest Darling, 

Last night I went to the early show, thinking that I would write when I got back, but when I returned to the barracks I was sleepy and tired and in no mood for writing. Today, tho, I mean to repay you for the loss of yesterday's letter 0.K? Before I go about answering yours of the 21st, I'll dispense with whatever "local news" I am able to call to mind. The picture last night was "Somewhere I'll Find You" with Gable and Lana Turner. It was an "oldie" but since I hadn't seen it, I enjoyed it. I've been reading "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" these past few days, and just finished it this afternoon. I found it an extremely interesting and well-written novel. There were parts about it that brought back long-forgotten incidents and memories of my own childhood. Most of all - I liked the fine feeling of the writer, and how she imbued every page of her book with it. It is a novel calculated to hit the reader "where he lives". The side-splitting humor you mentioned wasn't nearly that. True, there are passages that bring forth an appreciative chuckle, and "Sissy’s" love life is comical to a degree, but altogether the story has more pathos than humor, as far as I could see. I wonder, Sweet, if Kate reminded you of anyone you know? It may surprise you to learn that I was (and am) amazed at the similarity of character, her way of doing things, handling situations, her very thought processes with those of your mother? I wonder if Kate Nolan brought Anna Paller to your mind as consistently as she did to me? It's almost unthinkable that she didn't, since you know your mother's character so well and the resemblance is so great. I'm glad you are finding time to read occasionally, Baby, cause I know of no better way you could use it. 

Today I was busy with the Officers' Pay Vouchers and some other work, and the bulk of the work (my work) is finished for this month, I am feeling fine, as usual, which is unusual where colds and mild diarrhea are fairly common. I haven't had as much as a headache for half-a-year now, and I can't understand why. (I can just see you squirming, Sweet, as you used to do whenever I marveled at good fortune). Never fear, Honey, I take the best care of myself I know how, and, I might add, I know how! It would be unthinkable for me to hurt anything belonging to you - and that's how I invariably think of myself -- your property. 

The only mail I have received in the past three days, was a V-mail from Anne Furr, and a lovely birthday card from the Cohens, I have not yet found the opportunity to answer Anne's letter (I can hardly make out her scribbling), but I will. Tell Dot not to be too critical of my tardiness in answering her mail, because I would like nothing better than to answer her immediately. I also received a typewritten letter from her a few days ago, which I think I failed to mention. It was in answer to a V-mail I had sent her. I don't know if she told you anything about it (my V-mail), but from the tone of her latest letter, I think she misunderstood the spirit in which it was written. I'd hate to think that this is the case, and I'd appreciate it, Sweet, if you would get in touch with her and ascertain that the "mock severity of my V-mail was understood to be just that. I was feeling "devilish" when I wrote it, and meant exactly the opposite of everything I said. You, no doubt, are used to my idiosyncracies of expression, but I'm not so sure about Dot, and rather than have her get the wrong impression, I'd rather you put her straight. Incidentally, my greatest and constant regret is that I owe letters to almost every one of my correspondents. The hell of it is, I just can't seem to find the necessary free time to correct the situation, which preys on my mind continually. The truth is, I hardly have enough spare time to fulfill my obligation to you in this respect. My mind would be almost entirely free of worry if it were not for the troubling thought that I am "letting down" my dearest friends and relatives, Given a little more time, tho, I will find a way to correspond with them. The delay, I must admit, is extremely distasteful to me. It's not the way I like to do things, and I hate to think of what all those I am neglecting must the thinking of me. So much for the “local news". 

On reading over your nice, long, gossipy letter of the 21st, I find that it is mostly about Adele's illness. The only thing that calls for comment on my part, really, is the information that you bought a $100 bond with the $75 I sent you. As we say in military parlance - "action taken, noted and approved", to which I might add a hearty "but definitely! 

Your letter of the 22nd was short and sweet. It enclosed the "Prayer" which Goldie gave you. I liked it because it expressed without superfluities all the things I hope and pray for constantly when I am thinking of you, my darling, which is just about always, I learned, too, that you are registering with the 

intention of voting. I don't want to prejudice you one way or the other in this respect, but be very sure you let me know in advance how you are voting - and why, Most people are indifferent to the issues at stake, but I am not one of those, and I don't want you to be. I usually have pretty definite ideas about the best way to vote, and while I wouldn't want to foist them on you, at least let me exercise my prerogative as a husband to the extent of informing you as to my feelings and my convictions about the candidate, party, or issue at stake. Trust me not to hold it against you if you disagree with my views. That is your prerogative. 

The letter of the 26th-27th contained Lee Nerenberg's very sweet letter. She is a remarkable kid (if one may call a married woman that). There's a world of wisdom and goodness in that diminutive little head of hers. I hope Lenny appreciates her. The next few pages are crammed with miscellaneous items such as your father’s new job, Ruthie's first date, etc. Then, near the end, your plea. that I refrain from visiting London until things "quiet down". I wish, Sweet, that I could discuss this subject at some length, but censorship would not permit. Rest assured, tho, that I'll accede to your wishes in this matter. It is quite a while now since you wrote the letter I am referring to, and since then there has been little, if any, enemy air activity over London. It is almost a month since I have been to the "big town" and I certainly do miss it. I plan to go about the 17th, unless the air raids are resumed. Believe me, Sweet, it's not nearly as bad as the radios and papers make out. As for the neighbors "advising you to advise" me - it's silly. Next time someone speaks to you in this vein, you might point out that I know, much better than they could possibly know, what goes on in London, and just how great is the danger entailed in going there. You know better than anyone that my "design for living” doesn't include being "liquidated by a bomb. Moreover, I never was one to go hunting trouble or courting danger, and I haven't changed. So if you receive a "London letter” within the next week or so, put your fears at rest and think nothing of it. 

Your last paragraph in this letter tickled me. After writing five full pages you confess "I'm not in a letter-writing mood"! How many pages would there have been if you were in the mood? 

Your letter dated 28th Feb. is a real "longie", is bright and cheerful, and generally a delight to read. It starts off with a running commentary on my last "London" letter (when I met Eddie), goes on to describe what the punkin looks like now, her latest acquisitions of knowledge, the latest additions to her vocabulary, etc. You say it "kills" you that I can't see "my dream come true". You underestimate both my own powers of imagination and visualization and entirely overlook your own talent for describing things in general and the punkin in particular. I assure you, Chippie, I “see" "my dream come true" very clearly, thanks to you, so in the future don't feel too badly on my account. 

That list of names that H(arry) & G(oldie) are considering for the newcomer is mighty attractive. I particularly like their selection of "Jay" for a middle name. So much, in fact, does the appellation appeal to me, that regardless of the first name they decide on, I shall call him Jay. 

The increase in the amount of money that you will be called on to contribute to the household is regrettable, since it cuts sharply into the amount you might have saved, but I'm sure you appreciate the necessity for so doing, and I'm more grateful than you know, Baby, that you are so understanding as to give it cheerfully. 

A few days before I received this letter, I sent one reminding you that last March we were both in Columbus. I went into detail, or rather, I touched on the highlights of those blissful two weeks. I should have trusted you to remember that happy occasion, darling, for sure enough, you recall it in the very last paragraph of this letter. Thanks for the 29 kisses, Ev, darling - I intend to return them many times over some day. 

The last (and latest) of your letters is dated 29th Feb, and is four pages of miscellany that do not require comment. Except that very naughty last line. I often have cause to marvel at the insight, intuition, instinct, or call it what you will, that tells you so infallibly what to say to endear you even more to my already overflowing heart. That "naughty” line is just another instance of what I mean. When I read it, and the following “Wow, who said that?", and the P, S. *I'm . b-a-a-d girl", it had just the effect you meant it to have - you adorable vixen. Could I have gotten my hands on you at that moment, I would have eaten you alive - and if your skeptical about that just try me sometimes when I can get at you. 

I neglected to tell you that I am C.Q. tonight (hence this typewritten "longie"). At the moment I am missing you so very much, that the pain is almost physical. I adore you, my own Chippie, and would give anything in the world at this moment to be able to convey in person the full extent and meaning of that adoration, which is so great a part of me, that some times I think there would be nothing left of “your Phil" if it were subtracted. Right now you are, in all probability, in the midst of eating supper (about 3000 miles from here). Would it surprise you, then, to know that you are, at the same time, right here in the loving arms of your Phil? 

P.S. A loving kiss to my punkin. My love to all.

Post #319 - March 13, 1944 My Reputation as a “Letter Writer” is Growing

 

 

March 13,1944 

Phil, dear, 

Adele is napping and I thought I'd take advantage of the “break” by starting my daily letter. She has been unusually unmanageable today and I’m relieved that she is finally asleep. She wearies me so much at times!

 

Your letters of March 4 and 6 arrived this morning and were welcome, to say the least, after a five day break without mail. Whatever happened to the March 1, 2, 3, and 5 letters? Your mail, of late, has arrived in consecutive order and I'm rather anxious to know what happened on the intervening dates. You seem to be in the same fix.

I was a bit disgusted with you about your finances, but you certainly came through nicely. I think the bond idea is great (I suggested it a long time ago if you remember) and I'm all for it. I thought $30 out of the question and wanted to see if you could stick by it once you said you might be able to manage it. It makes me feel good to know you are budgeting yourself. In that way, I know you'll have sufficient monies to see you through a month. If you have any “surplus" after that, then, and only then, you can sho’ nuff send it along. Who knows, you might even be lucky? As long as I can manage, whatever we save, just so we save regularly, will keep me very happy. That reminds me, I haven't heard from S(harpe) & D(ohme) for two months and I'm wondering if I’ll continue to receive the checks. I must to put aside $5 per month In the future for Adele's insurance, so it will get to be a habit. I paid your insurance today. 

My reputation as a "letter-writer" is growing. I’ve been told by several people that I write a “lovely" letter. Move over, honey, you'll have to share honors with me (I really don't think I come close to you in that respect). 

I had a letter from Milton. This is the first one from him to be censored. He is still in Virginia at another camp and doesn't expect to be there for long. He said he would like to hear from me, even thought he cannot write. He is getting his shots. 

What do you know? Your letter of March 7 came this afternoon! Only six days old. It contained the form concerning the bond. Would you do me a big favor, Phil, and please keep this bond business between you and me only. I don't want anyone else to know about it unless I tell them. It may sound like a screwy request, as they sometimes do to you, but, nevertheless, I hope you'll do as I request. And don't tell anyone how much you've sent me or expect to send me. I have good reasons for my request. I'd rather tell you than write why. 

I had Adele out morning and afternoon today. She gets me up at the unearthly hour of 5:30 or 6 to 6:30 every morning. She seems to be going backwards. She ought to be sleeping later. 

I'm mailing off letters to Glo, Jack S., Jack N., Syd and you, sweet, and I'm kind of tired typing letters. Guess you won't mind the shortness??? of this letter. 

(I forgot to send the clipping of Mayer Taylor's braveness in my previous letter and

don't know what the heck I did with it). Oh well, I guess it's not that important.

 

I've been doing remarkably well sexually, sweet, and am none the worse for my lack of it. In a way I'm almost glad for I'd be worried stiff about being pregnant all the time. I have a funny fear of it (I can't explain it - just as you feel about the jealousy I guess) and it isn't cause I don't trust you. I do, without a doubt, yet I still feel that way. Maybe someday when we're together again and I'm happy and content that fear will disappear. It must not happen unless I want it to, when I want it to be. 

Mom is working on a Jewish letter for you and I'll probably get it off within a day or two. 

Aren't my typographical errors terrible? I don't have one measly eraser either. 

 

It gets increasingly difficult to make up a long letter day by day. My routine is more or less the same and I rarely deviate from it. Adele is really the "newsworthy" person around here. And now, baby, a loving kiss, a hug, and a great big I ADORE YOU. 

Your Eve 

Post #318 - March 12, 1944 It is Sunday, and an Unauthorized and Unofficial Lethargy Pervades the Atmosphere and A Letter from Eddie Paller

 

12 March 1944 

Evelyn, dearest,

 

Having completed making up the pay-roll and a few other minor details, I am now free to take my typewriter in hand and write my daily stint, during the course of which, I hope to answer and comment on the more pertinent items in your most recent and too-long neglected letters. It is Sunday, and an unauthorized and unofficial lethargy pervades the atmosphere. I am the only one in the Orderly Room at the moment. It is a typical "gray” English day and most conducive to introspective thought. If I am fortunate enough to continue uninterrupted, I hope to make this a real "longie". 

The earliest of the six letters I have before me is dated 19 Feb. The first paragraph informs me that you received the $75.00; the second, that your cold "has disappeared completely". Good! (on both counts). The third paragraph made me feel thankful for the fact that I received your V-mail of the 26th Feb, before this one. It says that Adele "has taken a turn for the worse and that her fever was soaring.” The V-mail had already informed me that the punkin was completely recovered, so I didn't worry one little bit about the outcome. Your description of her infant suffering in the grip of the fever is enough to melt the stoutest heart, and your intensified longing for me at such a time moves me deeply. God knows, Sweet, I ask no greater privilege than to comfort you in your time of trial, but the fates have decreed otherwise, and I can do nothing more helpful than offer my heartfelt sympathy and whatever spiritual strength I am able to imbue in you. You decry the fact that the punkin has become so attached to her "mommy" that she "haunts the windows" when you leave the house. I can understand why this is not good", but all the same, the thought of her loving you and depending on you to the exclusion of everyone else, is very dear to me. It is selfish of me to feel so, I know, but you can't change the spots on a leopard, and I was always selfish (ask Harry). Your attempts to convince me that Adele “knows" and "misses" her dad make very diverting reading, but you'll pardon me if I'm still skeptical. No doubt the pain in your shoulder, which you mention, was due to the cause you attributed it to - overexercise. I can readily understand how you strained it. Of course, you know without my telling you how to correct it. Stop carrying the punkin about. She is walking now, so there's no need for it. I'm surprised you condescend in this respect. It's not like you, Chippie. As for your protestation that "I don't even know why I mentioned it, except, perhaps, that it takes space and makes a "longie!", I can only reiterate what I've said before: Anything pertaining to you or to Adele, or to anyone in the family, however seemingly insignificant to you, is of prime interest and importance to me, I'll thank you to remember that in the future, Sweet.

In reference to your advice to me to get hold of "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", I have a happy coincidence to report. The day before I received your letter, I noticed a friend of mine carrying it about. Outside of remarking the odd title, I thought no more about it. When I had read your letter, though, I went looking for Irving (I call him Oiving and he doesn't like it, although being a Brooklynite he himself couldn't pronounce it any other way for a million). I ran into him in the mess hall and asked for the loan of the book. He was sorry, but he had promised it to a coupla other guys previously. Later, at Services, I showed him your letter. For some reason this pleased him. So much, in fact, that he promised me next crack at the book, which he was just 

finishing. Result: this morning he came looking for me. The guys in the Orderly Room told him I was in the latrine, and that's where he found me (and I wasn't performing my ablutions, either). Did you ever get the meaning of the word straight after I called your attention to your unintentional faux pas? Anyhow, to get back to the subject, the book lies under my pillow at this moment waiting to be read. How's that for service? 

Those "jokes" of Rae's which you wasted your good time writing out for my edification (without being prudish about it) were vulgar rather than funny, and I'm afraid they were entirely wasted on me, Besides, I had heard them all years ago. If I thought them worth-while I would have told them to you myself long before this. Most important, though - I don't relish the picture of either you or Mom listening to that sort of tripe, much less recounting it. You know, I think, that I am not entirely devoid of a sense of humor, and that I enjoy a joke, however "dirty” just as much as the next guy (perhaps more), but I'll be damned if I can stomach out and out vulgarity in any way, shape or form. You knew this, too, Chippie, I'm sure, but I don't think you entirely understand the sort of thing I put in this category. So, just to make sure you don't lower yourself that way again (and it's most unbecoming to my conception of you), please refrain from repeating the “jokes" some misguided person tells you. I assure you that my buddies see to it that I am "up" on the latest and best of the so-called "dirty” jokes. Your effort to help out in this respect, while appreciated, is in the nature of "carrying coals to Newcastle". So much for yours of the 19th - and mine of the 12th. Just as I expected, there was no mail for me today. I'll continue tomorrow, when I will "deal" with your letter of 22 Feb. 

Lest I end this on a “sour note", I hasten to assure you, darling, that I don't think any the less of you for a mere misconception on your part. You are the sweetest of women, in my eyes. I just want to keep you that way. Love to all from 

Phil

12th of March 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your letter of March 3rd, and as you see, I have been holding off too. Here's the way the situation stands. We're receiving 30 hour passes beginning Saturday evenings till Sunday night. Any other days are impossible at this time. There's many things I don't know, such as the schedule of trains leaving for London, whether we can get transportation on weekends and many others, which I expect to learn soon. Though we were just paid, I am pretty low. If you could get a pass to Bristol I could meet you, but I don't know where 'cause I haven't been down there myself yet. I expect to find all of this out very soon so we can meet one another. I'm fine and everything's O.K. I just received 12 letters in which I heard from practically everyone. Eve wrote and told me she received your letter about a day before mine. Beat me to the punch. Dad changed his job and that is what I call wonderful news. Everybody is fine and I hope you are. Till you hear from me, I hope, soon,

Truly,

Ed

Post #317 - March 11, 1944 It’s Getting Close to Our Third Anniversary and The 9th was Purim, and Fifteen of Us from This Station Went to Services in Norwich

 

March 11, 1944 

My dearest, 

I didn't give Betty that $12 after all. I spent it, as you shall presently learn. 

Last night I went to Broad St. to cash the checks and properly dispose of them. I stopped at the Cameo Shop to buy Bea a birthday gift from the Strongins. The gift stood us $6 - a lovely pair of pale green silk pajamas. My share was $2. I tried on a lovely brunch coat and wound up buying one for Goldie as a birthday gift and one for me. They were $4 apiece. I could use a dozen more, for they are so handy and neat. They are chintz material, white background splashed with large bouquets of multi colored flowers. The outstanding color of mine is red, Goldies, blue. It has red ricrac about the neat sports collar, has a tight fitting waist that buttons with one large button, a full skirt and bust, and puffed sleeves. Last year I bought two for the price of $4, so that ought to give you an idea of how prices have advanced. Of course, this is the nicest one.

When I told the girl at the Cameo Shop my name was Mrs. Phil Strongin, she asked me if "Phil's sister ever married". I immediately told her that I wasn't married to the guy with the muzzy, but his cousin. This girl, Bea Slivin Smith is a close friend of Sylvia Meadoway. We became quite chummy and exchanged our life's history. Her husband is in the Infantry and she described it as "hellish". Later in the evening I stopped at Ben's for ice-cream (it's getting to be a daily habit) and got talking to Dotsy's married sister. Her husband is now is Hawaii having left a short time ago. She sure is pretty and has the loveliest set of white, pearly teeth I've seen. She asked me to stop over and I asked her to do the same. 

 

Harry and Goldie got in about 11. The pinafore her stepmother made has lovely lines, but her stitching is extremely poor. If you don't get too close it's lovely. It is made of a silky powder blue material that has roses strewn all over it (green leaves about each flower). It has a low square neck and back, large ruffled shoulders, flared skirt, belt in back and buttons running down the back. It's a bit too big for now, but will do nicely in the warm weather, being washable. And there was surprise for me - an early birthday gift of a tearose silk night-gown, the bust outlined with Grecian lace (wide eyelet cotton lace that is very pretty) wide gathered pieces to form the shoulders, size 34, from Harry and Goldie. 

I haven't anything to sleep in except the two nighties Goldie gave me (remember the one she gave me when I had Adele?) and have to get some pj's. I'm not particularly crazy about nighties, but they do have their advantages, don't they, dear? I'm also in dire need of silk stockings and plan to get them and the pj's shortly. My other pj's were rags, which I discarded just recently. 

Goldie put on six pounds this past month and the doctor gave her hell. She's gained about 12 or 13 pounds already and has three months to go. She's getting enormous and I'm afraid she'll have a bad time of it. She went to the doctor's today. She's crazy about the brunch coat, incidentally. 

We sat and talked until almost one and I had to get up at 6:30 and just couldn't go back to sleep. Perhaps the fourth mailless day had something to do with it. I'm used to getting your mail so regularly that I know you either didn't write, went to London, (you said you couldn't go this time) or something is up and I'm just dying to know what's what. There'd better be something for me on Monday or I shall really be alarmed.

 

There was a big writeup in the Record the other day about Mayer Taylor, Syd's brother. Read it yourself. The whole neighborhood is talking about it. 

It's almost ten and I'm asleep already. Do you mind very much, baby, if I continue this tomorrow? You don't! You always was so understanding and I appreciate it immensely. Good night, honey, I love you dearly. 

March 2, 1944 

We're having company for dinner today the Browns and Sylvia. They made Bea a surprise birthday party last night and she received many lovely gifts. 

Adele slept (except for one interruption) straight through the night - my first night's sleep in over a week. I feel fine, though I could use a few good nights of rest, uninterrupted.

I've taken to wearing my hair pageboy all about the bottom and it runs up the sides in a curve-like effect. I don't like it as well as fluff on me, but it is neater. It's easier to keep, too.

Adele is wearing a dress for the first time since she was ill. She looks so tall and grownup and I can scarcely believe she is my daughter (I should have said "our", but I still can't believe she belongs to me too). 

I called Dot last night and we gabbed a while. Snuff is going to enlist in the Navy, for he feels he has a better chance there, being a machinist. Marcelle's hubby, Bernie, was sent overseas and when they learn his destination, perhaps you'll be able to see him too. He has a N.Y. APO. I hope i to get out to see Dot some time this coming week. She moved back to her mother’s on Friday and her address hereafter will be 6013 Sansom Street, Phila. The trip out will be easier.. 

Flash! Adele climbs up on the sofa and gets off all by her little self. When she wants to get off any high surface she rolls over on her tummy and gradually slides off, being extremely careful all the time. She walks up and down the steps with my aid. I hold one hand and she clasps the bars with the other. No two steps (by her) on any one step at any time. No sir! She walks up and down like a regular person, one step to a step. 

Did I tell you that I'm working on the sleeves of Mom's sweater? I sewed the fonts and back together 

and what there is of it fits nicely. 

I neglected to mention that Adele can only climb the sofa on Betty's porch as it is extremely low. She plays ring around a rosie by walking in circles herself til she gets dizzy. When she wants to somersault, she puts her head on the floor and I tum her over. Then she comes back for more.

Phil, sweet, it's getting close to our third anniversary and no doubt you will receive this after it. I know I'm going to miss you terribly that night. I only pray to God it may be our last anniversary apart. The three years have shown me what a wonderful fellow I married. Your thoughtfulness and understanding at every turn, your loving devotion and tenderness are my priceless, most precious possessions and I have and always shall appreciate then and you. I’m in an awful loving mood, baby, and if I could get my hands on you -

Uncle, Tant, Bea and Sylvia came about 4:30 and brought along Bea's birthday cake, which was utterly lovely. I damn near died when Unc. plopped down $5 on Adele's hichair - he said it was a Purim gift and I begged him to take it back, but no dice. Honestly, Phil, they have been perfectly wonderful to us and have gifted Adele so often with cash that I hardly know how to reciprocate or thank them. Tant is mighty grateful that I write regularly to the boys for I write the type of letters she would send if she could. Tant has been crying a great deal about Milt, fearing, as I do, that he doesn't have much of a chance. She said, "I hate the god damn Infantry." She said she didn't feel as badly when Syd left as she does about Milt.

Well, angel mine, I come to the end of another "stint” and I shall end with the customary "I adore you, my own sweet Phil" 

Your Eve

P. S. Enclosed are samples of Jack S. valentine, etc.

March 11, 1944

Dearest Darling,

This is the first opportunity I have had since the 8th to write to you. The 9th was Purim and fifteen of us from this station went to Services in Norwich. We were transported via truck and command car. If you remember, Sweet, we did the same thing on Chanukah. The turnout at that time far exceeded expectations (about 500 G.I.s of both sexes—of every service branch of the American and British Armies, Navies, and Air Corps—of every grade and rank. It is interesting to note that there are only twenty Jewish families in the town, and they do not even have a citadel of their own, but must share a church building (I think I explained the setup in a previous letter); yet—they arranged to receive that many people. Not wishing to subject us to the crush we experienced on Chanukah, this time they decided to hold the services and attending festivities in Stuart Hall. That, if you recall, is where our company held its party on the 24 Nov. It is fairly large, as Halls go and would have been ample to house the “Chanukah crowd” comfortably. The catch was—this time 600 attended. Even then they managed to seat almost everyone. After the service, which consisted of a brief period of prayer and the telling (by the U.S. Army Chaplain) of the Story of Purim, our hosts, the twenty families, had arranged a show and dance for our entertainment. The show, although corny by American standards at times, on the whole was very entertaining. The hit of the evening was a young English miss who played the accordion and displayed a lovely pair of gams through a black sheer floor-length skirt. She was an accomplished musician on her instrument and sang very creditably to her own accompaniment, but when she branched off into American swing and boogie-woogie, the G.I.s couldn't contain themselves and drowned her out with their own voices. First thing you know, we had a regular “jam session.” Everyone enjoyed himself thoroughly. (I know I did.) After the show there was supposed to be dancing and refreshments, but since the size of the mob made the former out of the question, we settled for the latter. That is, most of the crowd did. Klein was there with his gal-friend (or should I say—one of his gal-friends—since he has at least one in every town and hamlet from here to London—and a little beyond). Neither of us had eaten supper, and we were famished. Too hungry, anyhow, to push through the mob to the tables which were arrayed with all kinds of sandwiches, cakes, etc. in sufficient quantity to feed a thousand hungry soldiers. (The good people of Norwich weren't taking any chances this time.) Klein and I, though, were “too far gone” to settle for a coupla sandwiches, so we went out to a restaurant for a meal of fish and chips. It was the first time I had tried this English delicacy, but I certainly did enjoy it. That just about finished up the festivities for the night. The trip back to camp was uneventful. Before parting company, the officer in charge of our little party, Lt. Resnikoff, asked Klein and myself to come to Services at the Post Chapel Friday evening and Saturday morning. We promised to be there and kept our promise. Friday evening Lt. Huttner conducted the service, after which he told the story of Purim, ad-lib, in modern terminology. He's a very clever guy, with a delightful sense of humor, and his version of the story of Esther and Mordecai and Haman was as entertaining as a modern novel. He also explained the make-up of the Old Testament, dividing it into its various parts, giving thumb-nail sketches of the Prophets, old and new, and generally making his “spiel” so interesting that I, for one, hated to see it end. Incidentally, Sweet, you would do well to read the book of Esther, in which the narrative of Purim is contained. It has its hero, villain, heroine, and element of suspense, just like any modern novel, and is very easily read and understood.

All the foregoing, Chippie, pretty well explains why you will not receive letters for the 9th and 10th. I might have managed to write during the day, but for the fact that I was busy making up the pay-roll. The greatest drawback, though, is that I haven't had a chance to answer the six letters I received from you in those two days. I hardly know where to begin. I have all your letters now for the entire month of February. The chances are—I will receive very little, if any, mail for the next four or five days. I'll try to answer them during that time. Time doesn't allow of any more writing today.

It just occurred to me that you will receive this on or about 20 March, which, as if you didn't know, is our third anniversary. Therefore—HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DEAR. May the next one see us reunited. My love to you Adele and all the family.

Lovingly,

Your Phil