Post #383 - June 4, 1944 God Knows, It’s Small Enough Return for Our Involuntary Separation

 

4 June 1944

Dearest,

This is the first letter I have had a chance to write in June. I have been uncommonly busy these past these days, what with the company history, Soldiers’ deposits, PTT's, and various reports to get out. The days were taken up getting the work out, and the evenings, which are practically non-existent, due to the long hours of daylight,—(it doesn’t get dark ’til 11:30) have been spent in pursuits which come under the heading of military information, and which consequently, I am not free to discuss. My inability to write these past few days has been a source of irritation to me, 'cause I just don’t feel right when I miss getting a letter off to you. This “irritation” was aggravated by the fact that I received no less than seven V-mails of yours in that time—to say nothing of the two packages containing the Milky Ways and this stationery and Reds clothes. Before I proceed with the business of answering your accumulated letters, Sweetheart, I want to thank you most profusely for the candy. The stationery comes in handy, too. However, if I'm going to answer all seven of your letters today—and I certainly to try—I'd better start typing to keep the letter from becoming too bulky. 

Your first letter is dated 19 May. This advised me that you finally received the bonds. Seems we both had the same thought in this connection—how many we'll accumulate before it's all over. As I said before, Chippie, I hope not too many. God knows, it's small enough return for our involuntary separation. Yes, Baby, I still hope to see you in '44; nor will I stop hoping until the very tail-end of the year, 

Gloria's picture, which seems to have impressed you most favorably, is, no doubt, a most attractive picture, and must flatter her considerably. I'm afraid, Chippie, that the sort of thing you describe isn't the type of thing I would care for. A photograph, to my way of thinking, should neither flatter nor detract from a subject's appearance. It should be a true reflection of the most favorable view of the subject. This business of glamorizing with the aid of unaccustomed ornamentation such as the false eye brows, etc, in order to take the "nicest" picture possible, is 0.K. for those who place "show" above integrity For mine, I'll take a true likeness in preference, 

Sorry Sam and Anne couldn't make it this time, but I'm hoping they'll try again soon. 

On the 20th, you complain again that riding in a trolley or bus makes you ill, This is about the umpteenth time you've mentioned it. Why in the world, if it affects you so, do you continue to do it? 

It was most considerate of you, Chippie, to keep word of Mom's recent illness from me, and I appreciate your motives, but I deplore the fact that she is so inconsiderate of herself and you in that she is so careless about going out in clothes not sufficient to the weather. This is an old failing of hers, and it's time she stopped it. 

Next time you see Cadet Wheeler, if you ever do, tell him for me that he is right in some respects, but wrong in others. It's true that some of the Yanks over here have "girl-trouble,” but they are the same ones who have the same trouble back in the States—and it's not because they don't have enough to do, as the Cadet implies. Most of us have plenty to keep us busy, and ample divertisement of an evening. As for sending fewer, but better trained men over here, he's ignoring a great many things. Does he think, for instance, that the Army is sending the untrained men over-seas? Then, too, the cost per head and the scarcity of shipping space involved makes it incumbent on those who determine the outfits for overseas shipment to be very discriminating in their selection. It follows, then, that the personnel sent overseas do so only to serve a very real need. Thus, to my way of thinking, Cadet Wheeler's statement to the effect that there are too many of us over here is, to use an Americanism, all wet. I don't know what he bases his opinion of the “duration" on, and I don't care, but whom are you going to believe—him or me? 

In answer to your question about the Chiclets: they would be most welcome, Chippie. I like to chew in the movies, and I have no preference between chewing-gum and Chiclets. 

In your letter of the 22nd, you say that Mom went with Mrs, Feldman to see "Song of Russia", but in your letter of the 23rd you make no mention of how she liked it. (Please advise.) 

The "English expression is not "you have it, chum—it's If you've HAD it, chum". I'm sorry, too, that I can't have you in person, but you'd be surprised how close I come to it sometimes! (Know what I mean?) 

You say the punkin has an inclination to neatness. It was most kind of you, darling mine, not to add the obvious "not like you". I appreciate your regard for my feelings in resisting what must have been a very strong impulse. Not being of the same stuff as you, my Sweet, I am led to remark on the fact that while riding on street-cars is usually enough to nauseate you and make you generally ill, I note that you "skip” into town to go shopping, without any mention of ill-effects. Ah, woman, woman—! ! Next time you chance on something you would like very much to have (like those aqua ear-rings), and the money involved stops you, yield to that impulse, Baby; then write and tell me what it was and how much it cost, and I will make you a present of it, Truly, Ev, nothing would give me greater pleasure. Anything from $5 to $10 is usually a matter of small moment with me, and I can spare that much any time, so let's not be so backward about spending $6 on a pair of ear-rings you think I might like, shall we? If they're still for sale when you receive this, go gettem. I'm wondering at the moment, how you decided to spend that ten bucks I sent you a while back. By the way what are the "so many other things you need right now?

 

That word you use as a synonym for being very fatigued: "duped" is a new one on me. I believe you meant to use the more commonly used "pooped", but I'm glad you're not familiar with it, 'cause on you it wouldn't sound good—fershstaist? Just stick to "tired" or "knocked-out”, or something of the sort, but not "pooped". For me it has a most vulgar association which I wouldn't expect you to know anything about—and don't get curious! 

I like your idea in training the punkin to associate "daddy' with my picture, and "love” with both. Now if she'll associate me in person with "daddy and "love", we'll really have sumpin when I come home. So far, as you point out, she may have a pretty good understanding of how "Mommy loves daddy", but she ain't seen nothin' 'til she sees how "daddy loves Mommy”!! Hope she's not as jealous as you say she is, 'cause I'll certainly give her plenty of cause for it, once I get to you. Not that she won't get her share of loving—, but she'd better prepare to share me with you, 'cause while she may be the center of attention as far as anyone else is concerned, she can only look forward to half my attention. In practice, though, I expect it'll be a three-way proposition, with each of us gleaning his full share of love and affection. I'm looking forward to Sunday mornings with my two Chippies as I've never anticipated anything before. Heaven itself could hold no greater charm for me. I'm not forgetting my third Chippie, either, in that connection. She is in the kitchen preparing that well-remembered breakfast of sable sandwiches, jelly-omelets, and all the accessories. Frankly, I don't know of any other inducement that would be potent enough to get me out of bed at all of a Sunday! 

Harry's meeting with Mike Nerenberg is a lucky accident. I've been wondering about him here of late, and would like very much to get in touch with him. Please give him my best regards and ask him if he won't write. I knew nothing of his mishap at Ft. Dix. 

Sorry my mail was held up again, Chippie, but I'm glad you're learning to take the delay in your stride, 

Afraid you'll be disappointed in my Mother's Day letter, Honey. You see, I meant the flowers and the cablegrams to speak for me on this occasion. I don't remember if I even referred to it in my letter. I'm truly sorry, Baby; I should have known you would expect something "special" in my letter that day. 

Which all just about "answers" the "answerable " parts of all seven letters—. 

For the rest, darling, know that I am well, in reasonably good spirits, and keeping our date just as faithfully as you are. You are very close, indeed, when 11 o'clock rolls a round, and you may rest assured, Sweet, that, in my mind's eye, I am treating you no differently at date time than has been my practice in the past. Does that make it plain enough for you, or would you prefer that I draw a diagram? (Yeah - Yeah - I know - you'd just love a diagram, wouldn't you?) (If I thought you had the slightest need of it I might oblige you, but I don't - so I won't!) 

And now - au revoir, dearest one, and don't forget to kiss "daddy's" punkin for him. I hope that this has, in some measure, repaid you for the letters you didn't receive from me in the past three days. My love to all. 

Ever-lovingly, 

Your Phil 

Post #382 - June 3, 1944 Five Days a Week Will Net Me Exactly $21.00

 

June 3, 1944 

My Sweet, 

I intended this letter to be for the 3rd, but today is the 4th. I just didn't have time to get a letter off last night and thought I write at length i today., 

I worked from 9 to 1 Saturday morning and received my first pay of $7.70. He paid me for, 11 instead of 10 hours. Must have been a mistake on the part of the bookkeeper. I like the job very much and so it is that I beg to inform you your wifey is now à "woiking" gal. I shall work from 12 to 6 five days a week and four hours on Sat. if I so desire. Five days a week will net me exactly 21.00. I shall pay my mother $9 for caring for Adele, and you may ask why I am even thinking of working when you consider what remains. However, what remains is strictly savings and that means quite a bit to me. I do not have to work hard and I can do what I choose in the way of housework in the morning, and Sat. or Sun. Besides I feel marvelous for the first time in months. I worked the adding machine on Saturday and typed about 100 letters. He lets me go five minutes before my time is up. He likes the way I work and is most anxious to have me regardless of what arrangements we must make about hours. I'm going to work every day the first two weeks and then when I know the work well I can make my own hours. I’m sure he will be most lenient with me.

 

The typewriter at the place was terribly dirty, in need of a ribbon and general attention. I took out the brushes, cleaned it up and put in a new ribbon. The bookkeeper (a middle aged man of German-jewish descent, whom I will tell you more about later) turned about when I had finished and said the following: “I must tell you. You are the first girl who ever worked in this office that thought of cleaning the typewriter without being told." He was both amazed and pleased and helps me whenever possible. He served in the German Army 30 years ago and the second and third fingers of his right hand are useless Mr. Bellet was telling me that he has a bullet in his system, which he would not permit them to remove for fear of losing his life. The bookkeeper looks so it much like Mr. Bellet that I had to look real hard to distinguish them at first. 

When I returned from work yesterday I took a walk with the gals next door to 5th and OIney to do some shopping. I only bought groceries. It was very hot yesterday. In the evening it suddenly became the very, very cool and was almost cold this morning. 

In the evening I pressed for two hours and was not in a mood for letter-writing when finished. Today I pressed for four more hours - I had to get that done or bust. 

Then I did a bit of cleaning, after which we had some company. Etta, Nat, Unc, Pauline, Phil and Emma were our guests. You won't believe it but Unc. gave me $2 in cash as a birthday (belated) gift for Adele. I think he gave it to me on the sly cause Pauline has control of every cent she can get her hands on. A short while later Phil and Em took Adele, me, Barbara, Phyllis and a friend of Emma's for a ride up to Oxford Circle and back.

Etta is in her fifth month and doesn't look good at all. She is wearing maternity dresses already, though she isn't very large. She is due about Nov. 1. Nat promised to send a letter to the fellow who used to rent our garage and try to get him to pay for the three months he missed.

The Wymans are having the unveiling next Sun. Mickey is planning a visit to Canada this summer as her vacation. 

Tomorrow, sweet, will be exactly ten months since I held you close to me and kissed you oh so tenderly and I'd like nothing better than to do so at this very moment. Darling Phil I love you so much! Oh baby - - - - 

Before I melt away I'd better get off the subject. Betty's employer gave her notice to leave as he is making a drastic change in his business and no longer requires her services. She was crazy about the job and hates to leave. She'll take a short vacation before she looks for another job. 

When we took the ride up the boulevard we stopped at Lena's and Adele had a swell time playing with all the dollies. Adele hit everyone who touched her today. She's definitely at the "hitting stage" and I'll be glad when it's over. She hugs and kisses everyone and Bob got quite a kick out of her. The Leibermans are having their newly owned home papered and Bob and Nat are painting the entire place, in their spare time. They will move in within the next two weeks. 

Darling, no matter what I think of at the moment in the way of news, my mind is full of but one thing - YOU! I want to hold you (huh-huh) (do you still make that sound like I do) and cuddle close and - - -

Just be 

Your Eve 

(over) 

I forgot to tell you that Phil thinks he’ll be leaving Belvoir within the next two weeks. He doesn't think he'll go overseas for a time, but he does think that he'll have to have basic training for he never did have such training. The Army seems to be cleaning up and making the most of what it is has.

June 3, 1944

Dear Phil,

How are you? I'm awfully sorry I didn't write sooner, but I guess I've just been plain lazy. I am enclosing two pictures in this letter, of Adele which were taken about two or three months ago. They are not good ones, but I thought you'd like to see them anyhow. I'm doing okay in school and I'm still working at the five and ten. I'm going down the shore again this summer and I'm staying from June 17th to September 9th. Evelyn's probably been keeping you in contact with all the news about Logan, so I'll end my letter here.

Loads of love,

Ruth

Post #381 - June 2, 1944 I Worked for Mr. Bellet from 12 to 6 and Like the Work Immensely

 

June 2, 1944 

Phil, dearest, 

15 days without mail! You'll have to be content with v-mail, honey ’cause I just can't find enough to write to fill an air-mail letter. 

Today I was busy as a bee. First of all, I got up at 6 A.M. Then I cleaned our room, the living and dining rooms, washed a few pieces, dropped Adele at my mother's where she took her nap and spent the afternoon. I worked for Mr. Bellet from 12 to 6 and like the work immensely. I really knocked out a day's work and he was well pleased with my work. He is most willing to have me arrange my hours so that I might work for him steadily. He would like to have me from 12 to 6 each day and 9 to 1 Sat. (if I desired Sat. work once in a while) for the next week and then he says we’ll try to see how much work I can get out in a set time, at which time I can change my hours again if I choose to do so. I enjoyed the automobile ride home with him and my father. I'm sure you'll remember the place, honey. We stopped in there once to ask about a crib when we went looking for Adele's crib with Harry. He's located 11 N. 2nd St. and the place is five stories high. 

I intend to work from 9 to 1 tomorrow, just to get on to the work, and I feel I know the job already. It's interesting work and the time passes quickly. 

I had dinner at my mother's house, jumped double-dutch with Adele (we joined the kids in the driveway who were jumping rope) and she didn't want to stop. I just can't keep up with our darling daughter. I’ve finished bathing her and she is fast asleep. I even cleaned up the bathroom and polished her shoes. 

It's very hot again today (it was comfortably cool at the office) and I can't stop perspiring. Betty's mother is in seventh heaven today, not to mention the rest of the family. Her son, who has served two years overseas and is in N. Africa at present, wrote that he is coming home. When oh when will you be coming home, sweetness? 

Goldie’s brother was honorably discharged from the Navy yesterday. He's a frail kid and evidently couldn't take the training. They called him $150 when he was discharged. Not bad for three weeks in the Navy! We don't know the details as yet, but will tell you about it just as soon as we hear. My brother Seymour. is having a big sendoff at the Benjamin Franklin by the members of his place, who are very fond of him. 

Can't think of another earthly thing to say in the way of news, baby, so won’t you please forgive me if I seem to cut this short. The old, yet new, “I love you so much darling Phil” will have to be my closing phrase again this evening. I’m keepin’ our date at 8 dear, and if you only knew what I was doing to you. - - -

Your Eve 

Post #380 - June 1, 1944 Today is Seymour’s 18th Birthday

 

June 1, 1944 

Darling Mine, 

Today is Seymour's 18th birthday and Ruth and I each contributed to buy a $5 wallet which he had expressed the desire for. He leaves on June 9th, the exact same day Ed left last year. Seems to be an unlucky date for my folks. That, by the way, is the date Goldie's baby is supposed to put in an appearance. She's still around. 

I worked six hours for Miss Hahn today. It is very very hot and the evening paper discloses the fact that the past May was the hottest one on record in 33 years. My father's boss asked me to take the secretarial position since he cannot get a girl. I told him to get someone else, as I'm not interested in returning at the moment. He did get someone and then had to let her go for she couldn't seem to pick up the work. In the meantime he is without help and in a sort of fix. He asked me if I would consider working a few hours, a few days of the week til he broke in another girl. I consented to that at a remuneration of 70¢ per hour. I am working for him tomorrow from 12 to 6. I don't expect this business to last more than two weeks. I'm losing my taste for returning to work - imagine - after all my arguments for it! It wasn't that I changed my mind about it - I can't stand buses and subways, etc. As long as I get a ride, as I do in the case of Miss Hahn, I don't mind at all. 

I was going to be different this evening and not mention the fact that today is exactly two weeks since I last heard from you. I changed my mind, as you may have noticed. I'm not worried, honey, I know you're alright. But I would like to hear from you just the same, if’n the U.S. Army doesn't mind. I realize that it has something to do with the invasion and if it means that you'll come home sooner if I do without mail for a while, then I'll do without mail for a while. I hope, though, that you're writing in the meantime, or permitted to write, so that I am richly rewarded with about 12 letters. Make it one and I'll be satisfied! 

My check came this morning, but I don't think I'll be able to cash it til Monday, when I hope to get to the bank. Since I didn't spend any of my excess cash last month, I deposited it to our account, total now $155. My part time work enables me to save and spend to a moderate extent. I'm wondering at the moment whether or not you are permitted to leave camp for visits to London. My guess is no. Guess I'll have to wait a long while for an answer. 

My dad informs me that the boss gave me the clock as a gift. I'm very happy about the whole thing. Tomorrow I'm going to buy Adele at big Raggedy Ann doll if he has what I like. Adele is so crazy about dolls! She hugs them to bits and kisses and kisses them. She even gets red in the face hugging so hard! Adele is getting thinner. And now I'd better sign off before I type over my allotted space. I love you, darling Phil, and would give most anything to take you into my lonely arms and heart and hug you to bits. Oh, baby mine, I want you so much! 

Your Eve

Post #379 - May 31, 1944 I Have it from Various Sources that Mail from England is Frozen and The Most Beautiful Sunset is the Most Disturbing

 

May 31, 1944

Dearly Beloved,

It is now 13 days without mail and I have it from various sources that mail from England is frozen. What the devil is wrong now??? Can't the army ever do anything right? Holding up mail is the most disgusting thing they could do, and it's about time they had some system. I'm fed up to the ears with the Army and its red tape methods.

Now for something really interesting. I let Adelel set alone the other night. I'm not letting her do it full time - just giving her tryouts at various intervals. She ate a cup of jello alone (you should have seen her when she finished) - I think there was more jello on her than in her. She had a marvelous time and would have made a repeat performance had I had another cup of jello on hand. She has learned to wipe her mouth with her bib when she has completed her meal. However, occasions do arise when the bib isn't handy, at which time she simply pulls up her dress and uses it in like manner. What a kid!!

And more important! My dad managed to get me an alarm clock from his boss. I didn't care whether it was an alarm clock or not - I only wanted a clock. It's black plastic, round shape and very nice for the $1.10 wholesale price. It sells for $1.65 plus tax.

I spoke to Lil this evening and she, like Dr. Gayl, doesn't think I should bother about Adele's feet at present. So, I think I'll let the matter drop for the time being. Adele’s present shoes are short in the toe and I hope I will be able to land a pair next week. Baby shoes should be much longer than the foot and not fit as yours and mine do. Here's hopin’!

It was very it was very hot all day long and I'm hoping I'll get some sleep tonight. Adele was wonderful last night, and I'm also hoping for the same reactions. I did quite a bit in the way of housework and even managed to finally put the initials on the sweater I made for Stuart.

Mom is getting a girl to clean the two back rooms so that Goldie and Harry may switch rooms with her. They're going to take the back room with the twin beds (they want to sleep separately) and Mom will take the middle room as before. Goldie has but nine days to go. Mom kept saying that she would have the baby in May, while I kept saying she’d hold out for June 9th. We shall see!

I'm going to work for Miss Hahn tomorrow. Tomorrow is payday - the best day of the month as far as I'm concerned, 'cause I have to wait so long for it. I'll still take the weekly system and you, baby, any day. What do you say, sweet? Guess what? You would! Sure I love you and always will be

Your Eve

31 May 1944

 

Dearest Evvie, 

Today was pay-day, and before I get into a card-game, I thought I'd better get the daily letter off my mind, so I can concentrate on what I'm doing. 

This morning, as I told you yesterday, I was busy compiling the company history for the past month. I didn't have time to continue with it this afternoon, due to the hustle and bustle of getting the company paid. About four o'clock, I developed a bad headache, and went back to the hut to sleep it off. I must have started to dream immediately. Most naturally, I met you here on the base. I say naturally, because in my dream it didn't seem the least bit odd that you were here. We had an understanding that I was to meet you and take you to the Base Theater to see "White Cargo" (which happens to be showing today). Inexplicably, on my way to 

meet you, I became immersed in the midst of a mob. When I extricated myself, I saw you standing in front of a store window, - don't ask me where the store window is to be found around here - I wouldn't know. Anyhow, Chippie, I saw you as plainly as I could possibly describe. It shocked me that you had neglected to apply powder and lipstick. Your dress struck me as looking exceedingly drab; your hair, darker and more lustrous than I remember it, was tied up in small blue ribbons, giving you a most unprepossessing appearance. Moreover, as I approached you, I was aware that you were very angry with me for showing up late (ironical, isn't it?). Wordlessly, 

you fell into step beside me, and the next thing I knew we were trudging along over 

these very fields on our way to the movies, (All this without a word between us.) In the distance, some kids were playing around with two muzzled dogs. Suddenly, the 

dogs made a dash for us. I told you not to be frightened, calling attention to the fact that they were securely muzzled. The dogs came on, and were soon upon us, jumping up on us and making themselves a nuisance. Out of nowhere, a big, ugly brute, wearing a shirt open at the throat, and a sloppy looking pair of trousers, came into the picture. He grabbed hold of one of the dogs, and approaching you, urged him to commit an indignity on you (imagine!). This infuriated me. I pushed you away from the dog and the low character holding him, and lashed out at him, catching him fair on the jaw, Usually, in a dream, when I am fighting, I find it next to impossible 

to lift my arms. You know the sensation of trying to run away from something horrible in a dream, only to find that your legs just won't cooperate? Well, much the 

same thing happens to my arms when I need them most in a dream. I just can't seem to move them as I would want to. Not this time, though, 'cause I very satisfyingly proceeded, with great finesse, and with no waste of time whatever, to cut that ugly face to ribbons with my fists. Never, in a dream, or otherwise, have I ever enjoyed a fight so much. In no time at all, the big hulk lay stretched on his back before me. The last thing I remember, is that we were alone again, still trudging across the fields in the direction of the movies - and you were still too sore at me to  talk. We never did get to the movies, 'cause at this point, I awoke. 

You are, Chippie, no doubt wondering why I take the trouble to recount such 

a silly dream. The simple truth is - I didn't know what else to write. Hope I haven't 

bored you too completely. 

The weather today was lovely. Lovely weather is much appreciated by every one over here - we get so little of it. However, for some weeks now, we've had an  unbroken stretch of clear, sunny skies. Only on a few occasions has it been too 

warm for comfort. The country hereabouts is doubly attractive in the Spring sun, 

and I wish most heartily that you could see it, darling. Walking to mess, one is 

often met by the sweet perfume of unseen flowers. The occasional whiff of sweet 

clover is just too distressingly familiar to be entirely welcome. It brings with it an almost intolerable sense of homesickness. Too many things that inspire by their beauty have the same effect on me. Thus it is, that the most beautiful sunset is the most disturbing. If you wonder at this, dearest, I don't. Deep within me, is the unalterable conviction, call it an instinct if you will, that beauty, as such, doesn't exist for me, unless I can share it with you. In our present state, it's very "incompleteness" is a source of regret amounting almost to remorse. My inability to react normally to beauty in any form, is, in all likelihood, the same effect you mean when you write that you feel "dead". If such is the case, then you know only too well, dearest one, what I am trying to convey. 

Good-night for now, my lovely - the radio is giving out at the moment with “My Heart Tells Me" - better sign off real quick before I weep great, salty tears all over this nice clean paper. I love you dearly, my Eve, and in spite of the conflict of the spirit I suffer because of my love for you, and my need of you, I'll be eternally grateful for it. My dearest love to our sweeter than sweet punkin, the precious Adele Bara. My love to all. 

Forever, 

Your Phil 

Post #378 - May 30, 1944 Miriam Brown is in Her Third Month and I Have Been “Appointed” Company Historian

 

May 30, 1944 

My Sweet,

There was no delivery of mail today due to the holiday. I hope you will bear with me when I say I'm disgusted with this one way correspondence. I find it exceedingly difficult to express myself properly, or to say anything of real comfort to you, sweet. 

Today was much like all the others. I pressed most of the day and still have a pile for some other time. The weather has been nice for the past few days. It's cool in the early morning and in the evening and very hot in the afternoon. I spent part of the afternoon outside with Adele. Emma visited for a short while. Here's an interesting piece of news: Miriam Brown is in her third month. She is getting needles in order to hold it. She must have very weak insides. 

One of the neighbors, who knows quite a bit about children's feet and shoes, advised me to take Adele to a certain hospital to have her feet and legs examined. She told me not to listen to the doctor, but to make sure for myself by letting another doctor examine her. In this way I would have the opportunity of having Adele examined by a specialist in this field and at the price I could afford to pay. She said her kid walked the same way and she corrected it with special shoes. I've got nothing to lose, so when she gets the name of the place for me, I shall take Adele for an examination. Adele has worn away part of the heel of her present shoes, and they aren't even two months old. I intended to get her shoes next week and perhaps I can get her shoes more easily if they are prescribed by a doctor. I dread the ordeal of shoe-buying already. 

I have an idea that the letter I sent off last night will be late in arriving. Therefore, honey, I might inform you that it bears two enclosures, a letter from Jack N. and four snaps, two of me alone and two of me, Adele and the family. It was a heavy letter and required 18¢ postage to ensure its delivery (it should be de-livery, shouldn't it?). 

Flora and her husband are home on another two week furlough. Flora’s mother is keeping steady company with a nice-looking bachelor and I'm sure it will culminate in marriage. She introduced us and he seems very nice. 

Adele got me up no less than six times last night (boy, was I mad!) and I'm hoping she’ll be more considerate this evening. I'm kind of tired this evening, baby. Gosh, I forgot to mention in my last few letters that I'm keeping “our” date faithfully. I look forward to that moment each day. My dearest one, I love you so much! A fond hug and kiss from 

Your Eve

30 May 1944 

Dearest Darling, 

Seems like writing each and every day is getting to be a little too much for me. Yesterday, for instance, I thought and thought about something to write about, but only succeeded in drawing a blank. One fact did strike me, though; that our precious Adele was exactly a year and a half old on that day (29th May). It set me to wondering how much older she will be before I come home to her. She must be adorable about now and I can't help feeling that I'm missing a great deal in being away from her. 

The only activity I indulged in that is worthy of note (yesterday) was my almost daily excursion to the Base Theater to see Frederic March and Alexis Smith in “The Adventures of Mark Twain.” It was a fairly interesting picture, but I didn't care too much for the direction. Seemed to me they wasted too much footage on trifling details. The whole thing was out of proportion. (Maybe I should have been a movie critic, huh?) 

Today is Memorial Day and I've been trying to remember what I was doing a year ago. Seems to me we passed in review before the Colonel at Ft. Dix (and was it hot!) Can't remember, for the life of me, whether I managed to get home in the evening or not. I'll be surprised if you don't remember, Sweet. 

Finally managed to send off that long delayed letter to Anne Furr. 

I have been “appointed” company historian and I expect to be busy tonight and tomorrow interviewing the various section chiefs to procure the data for the company history which I must have completed by the 3 June. This will be a monthly chore and entails a good bit of work. 

No mail arrived either yesterday or today, so—since I have nothing else to report from this end, I'll sign off now. Love and kisses from me to you, Angel—and to my littler angel, the adorable punkin. My love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil 

 P.S. Please send candy. 

Post #377 - May 29, 1944 I Wouldn’t Mind Living in Denver, Would You?

 

May 29, 1944

Dearest Phil, 

Eleven days without mail! I know, Phil, but Jesus, Phil! I wonder how many more days it will be before I do receive something? 

In the meantime, I had the enclosed letters from Jack N. and managed to get a long letter off to him this afternoon, in reply. 

Enclosed, too, are the snaps Petey took on May 14 and May 21. Doesn't Adele look cute with the Britisher's cap on? I don't particularly care for the snaps of me alone -too much sun - makes me look too glary (is that a word?) 

I also had letters from Syd and Jack S. to round out the day.

I did quite a bit around the house today. It was very warm all day so I had Adele out in just a pinafore - an orchid one with orchid socks to match. Adele made friends with an elderly (no, middle age) couple that live directly opposite us in the back. Mr. and Mrs. Katz always look for her. They own 36 houses, and he is retired, living on the income from them. He has a lovely car and since Adele is crazy about "cahs" she made every effort to get into their good graces. Mr. Katz lets her sit in the car, plays the radio for her and amuses her generally. His wife said, "I could give him everything but kids!” He rides her around the block occasionally. Adele won't let me out of her sight for so much as a second, even to go for a ride around the block.

Our youngster is exactly one year and a half today. Gettin' old, isn't she, Honey? I have a hunch she be closer to three before I see you again. That brings us out to next summer. Yes, dear, I do think I'll see you next summer. 

And now, if’n you don't mind, baby, I'll sign off with oodles of love and a billion . kisses before I go "off" again and start asking a lot of questions. I love you so much, baby! 

Your Eve

P. S. I think Jack N.'s letter speaks for itself. I wouldn't mind living in Denver, would you? I told Jack it's okay with me if it's okay with you.