I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
Not much to say today. There was no mail, and hardly anything worth writing about.
Last night I attended the re-opening of the renovated "Thunderbolt Theater". The picture, as I told you yesterday, was "For Whom the Bell Tolls". I didn't enjoy it quite as much the second time. The element of suspense was gone because I knew the plot. However, it would have been worth my while if only to see "Maria" again. The theater is a very great improvement over the previous one. The screen is large and new and white, and the two new 35 mm. projectors make it unnecessary to stop the film to change reels. I'm looking forward to many pleasant evenings there, (but not too many more I hope).
I turned in very early, about 9:30, and had a good night's sleep. My work for this month is pretty well cleaned up—until the 28th, when I have to start on the Company History.
This evening, it walked down to the Snack Bar, had some sandwiches and coffee, and then settled down in the lounge to listen to the radio and read some old papers that were lying about. Today's "Stars and Stripes” didn’t arrive, for some reason. The news on the radio brought me up-to-date.
Later, there was a speaker, an elderly gentleman from Mass., who talked for an hour and a half about post-war prospects in employment. His talk was very general, though, covering a variety of subjects, and was most interesting. I learned a good deal, asked a few questions, and revised a few of my concepts and opinions. A most profitable evening.
Which once more brings me right up to the minute, Sweet. I think of you constantly, and wish most fervently that I will soon be free to return to you and the punkin and all my loved ones at home. Good-night my darling, I love you more and more each day. My love to all.
Ever, Your Phil
22 July 1944
Dearest Evie,
No mail today for the third day in a row, and I'm back to double-spacing as a result. There is still so little to report, that I have to think and think until I get an idea as to what to write about. I'll tell you what I did today. That's always good for a few lines. Then, I'll say a few words about the weather, etc., and by that time I may have thought of some thing else.
To begin with, I relieved the CQ at 6:30. It was a gray, cold morning, and the gloomy appearance of the sky did my spirits no good. I was entirely caught up with my work, and I spent the morning reading a magazine, Directly after lunch, there was a dental inspection. I have a coupla new cavities, and have to make an appointment at the dispensary to have them filled. Which reminds me to ask you, dear, when you last visited the dentist, and isn't it about time you were making an appointment to have your teeth looked at? Then I hopped on a bike and rode down to the Finance Office, where I transcribed the payroll. This killed the afternoon. I had intended to go into town this evening with Klein, but the lunk-head got himself grounded for speeding, and isn't driving the Officers' liberty-run bus anymore. I could have gone in on the Enlisted Men's Liberty run, but I don't enjoy it because it's uncomfortable riding, usually crowded, and some of the guys drink too much and get sick all over the place, and on anyone who is unlucky enough to be in the vicinity. Not relishing the prospect, I went along with Klein to the Snack Bar. Then we stuck around the lounge awhile, while Klein wrote a few letters and I read "Yank" and listened to the radio. When it came time, we went around to the movie, where "Dixie" was playing. I had already seen it, but since it was a musical, and because I'm caught up on my correspondence for a change, I thought I'd kill the evening that way. At that, I found it far from boring. I hit the sack at exactly 11 o'clock, and I'll give you just one guess, darling, as to what I was thinking about at that particular time. If you are wondering when I found time to type this, Sweet, permit me to enlighten you. I am typing this the "morning after". This morning, for want of something better to do, I decided to compile a few statistics - on the percentage of married men in the company, those with children, etc. This afternoon, if there is still no mail, I think I'll start drawing the plans for that Duplex Apartment - remember? I'm hoping, though, that there will be some mail.
Just enough space left, honey, to remind you that I love you very much. Kiss the punkin for me, and give my love to all. I am
I didn't write yesterday cause I was too tired and it was too late when I finished with Adele. I had two lovely letters from you, though, of July 13 and 14, respectively, and enjoyed both immensely, after three mailless days. I called Dot and she read me her letter (yes, in its entirety) and I enjoyed that, too. You know something, Sweet - you frighten me a bit sometimes when I think of what you'll be like when I have "relations" with you again, after such a long time. Yeh man! (I'm sure you bear in mind the fact that I have a fear of becoming pregnant for some time and I know full well that you (as, well as I won't let it happen, not, at any rate, until we both want it to. I hope I won’t forget this sentence when I do see you.
I did a lot of reminiscing last night. If you will remember, sweet, both you and Jack were home on the 20th last year and today marks the year since Gloria or the family has seen Jack. Tomorrow, incidentally, is the second anniversary of the J. Strongins - yep, it's two years already !
I felt rather ill all day as I “fell off". We're having unusually cool weather for this time of year and it's actually cold at night. Nothing like Philly weather - one day you roast to death, the next, you freeze to death.
I'm kind of proud to report that Adele is making fine progress eating alone. So much so that now I give her a small bowl of corn flakes with milk and a bit of sugar and she eats it all by herself. When she's finished and can't get the last drop she drinks from the bowl (not at all mannerly, is she?)
I've been advised by several people not to send those pyrex bottles you requested. Perhaps there is something else I can get? Do you think I should keep sending chocolate in this hot weather? Were the last packages okay? I shall start the next package tomorrow, when I intend to do some shopping. Today was payday, honey, and we now have another $25 bond, making our total $650.
The news is wonderful, especially about the German Army rebelling. I hope it means an early end and that I will see you in ’44 cause I sure am anxious to see you! Tony is at a POE and Ann has been crying her eyes out all week. It came sort of suddenly though they thought it might happen soon. I also called my Aunt Gussie this evening to learn that my cousin Meyer is in Texas and very disgusted with the present setup. Everyone there sent their regards to you, honey.
I still haven't decided whether I'm going to take Adele with me to Dot's tomorrow or whether I will go alone. I'll see first how Adele is tomorrow. Sarah keeps bothering me to have her feet examined, but I'm sticking to my decision that I'll have her examined in the fall, if she doesn't outgrow it first. It's most annoying though, especially when someone else keeps harping about it. Oh, well, I don't want to sign off in a discordant note, so we'll change the subject to love, if'n you don't mind. I LOVE YOU, PHIL!
Your Eve
P.S. Mom is still at Browns Mills.
20 July 1944
My Own Evvie,
You will receive no letters dated 18 or 19 July. On the 18th, because it had been a pretty busy day, I went to the movies to relax. The fact that there had been no letter from you that day contributed to my decision. The picture was "Uncertain Glory, with Errol Flynn and Paul Lukas. As far as I was concerned, it was a perfectly good plot gone to waste. The writing was bad enough to ruin the interest and suspense that the film could very easily have had. Errol Flynn is terribly miscast in this one. Seems he just can't resist the urge to be charming, and since he is supposed to be a murderer of the first water, it just doesn't jive. The only thing that saved the whole thing from being a complete bust, was was the superb acting of Paul Lukas. To my mind, there isn't an actor in the world who is even in the same class with him. Remember when I raved about his performance in "Watch on the Rhine"? I forgot to say "I told you so when he copped the Academy Award for it.
Yesterday, the 19th, I again found no opportunity to write during the day, and in the evening there was "Cover Girl". I remember you wrote that you enjoyed this one very much. Sorry I can't say the same for myself. The only worthwhile feature of the whole picture, for my money, was Gene Kelly's dancing. Maybe I'm screwy, but I consider Rita Hayworth neither beautiful nor charming. She is talented, undoubtedly, but not so much so that she can get by on that alone. The plot is old as the hills all the way thru, and there wasn't one hit tune in the whole of the production that is generally hailed as the musical of the year. In short, I was greatly disappointed in it.
Your letter (V-mail) of 11 July arrived in the afternoon, together with Dottie's of 7 July, and Mickey Brown's of 8 July. I had time to knock out just one letter before lights out, and I decided to favor Mom 'cause I had held up her letter too long for my peace of mind. By the way, Chippie, didn't you say Mike Nerenberg had written some time back? I'm still waiting to hear from him.
This afternoon, I managed to get off a letter to Mickey Brown. Which reminds me that I have neither sent a letter to Syd or received one from him for a long, long, time. If you'll send me his address, Baby, I'll try to pick up our correspondence with him.
The snap I am enclosing was taken about six months ago at our previous station. The right pant-leg is rolled up cause I had just got off my bike. Klein took the picture, and just received it today. You might send the negative to Jack after you are through with it. If you'll send me some film (127 or 130), I'll take some more snaps for you. We can't get film over here.
Tonight the "Thunderbolt Theater" is having its gala premiere. Although they staged a USO show there some weeks back, this is the first picture since they installed regular theater seats, re-decorated the place, and installed standard projection equipment. The film is "For Whom the Bell Tolls" (no less).
The weather has been beautiful these past few days, and some of the fellows have even gone swimming. I haven't been off the base since last week, but now that the week-end is coming up again, I may go in with Klein within the next day or two.
There was nothing in your V-Mail that required comment, Sweet, and now that I'm completely up-to-date and can't think of another solitary thing to write about, I'll close this with a fond kiss for you, a kiss and hug for the lass, and my love to all.
Ever-lovingly,
Your Phil
July 20, 1944
Dear Phil:
Received your letter today and I don't need to tell you how glad and how pleased I was with it. You put me on a spot, though, with such a long letter. It means that I have to reciprocate. But I do want you to know that it is always a pleasure to write to you. You can tell that by the prompt answers you get.
You need never fear that you can't keep up with me. It is the other way around. You have a far better excuse for not writing than I might have. Mine is just plain "laziness."
Snuff will probably leave in August (Once more) and I'm sure that he will correspond with you. After he was sent back, he received a new classification -- 1A! The Shop then put in another appeal and the Draft Board called to find out if they were crazy. They said that according to Snuff's records he should have been in two years ago. And not only that, but there are only three men left that are under 26. Two are 4F's and the other is Snuff. They said he might leave in July, but definitely by August. There isn't much of a chance of his getting the Navy this time, as they have stopped drafting into the Navy. Also, enlistments have been stopped. It doesn't make much difference to Snuff now whether or not he gets the Navy, as he was glad for the chance to remain at home for a little while longer. It makes me think of the prisoner that got a last minute reprieve.
I hope to be able to send you the "Bulletin" each week. Of course, this depends on whether or not I can get into town to get them, but I shall try my darndest. I'm glad to hear that you enjoy them so much, as I think they are a very good idea, personally. The news may be a little stale by the time it reaches you, but at least it is something from "home".
I enjoyed immensely your story about the show you went to and also your story about "Ev". I called Ev tonight and read her your letter—all eleven pages.
About that paragraph—normally my curiosity would get the best of me and I would insist that you explain it. But I shall respect your wishes and wait for the time when you are ready to tell me. Not that insistence by mail would do me much good anyhow!
I'm just a little surprised that you think that the "incident" didn't mean anything to me. It is just that I can't place this particular one, but I do want you to know that everything we have done together and all the moments we have shared, are treasured ones as far as I'm concerned. There have been so many that I can't forget that I can't remember the particular one you speak of. Well, enough of that before I get even more involved than I am already.
I do want you to know, however, that I certainly wouldn't laugh at you because I happen to have that same particular horror of being laughed at and ridiculed.
Again I shall explain that I don't always wait for an answer from you if I have anything to say. I understand that at this particular time you must be pretty busy and I'll excuse any tardiness on your part in answering.
Ev is supposed to come out here Saturday to spend the day with Adele. However, if she feels she isn't up to it, she will put Adele to bed and come out alone. I'm need not tell you how I'm looking forward to this day. We haven't seen each other for some time. It is not as easy for me to get out now as it has been in the past, as my Mother is working and she depends on me more or less to take care of the house. However, I'm a little ashamed of myself for having neglected Ev. Of course, I speak to her frequently, but I haven't seen too much of her.
Speaking of our double-dating after the war—hurry up and come home, won't you, so we can commence to have some of those good times I'm sure we all have lined up in our minds,
Every time I think about the friendship that exists between us, it puts a little glow in me. Especially when I think that you are a mature man of 30 (?) and I am but a mere child of 21 (?). By the time you get home you will be an A.K. and I'll still be a spring chicken. How about putting that in your pipe and smoking it. (I couldn't resist the little dig. I hope it doesn't hurt you to be reminded that you are getting "old)").
Please pardon the errors, but I have five more letters to answer when I finish yours and my thoughts are running ahead of my fingers. That is because I'm a little out of practice, not having worked for over two years.
Now that it is more or less imminent that Snuff is going away, I'm beginning to feel the strain of it. Up to now I couldn't realize that he was actually going and so, therefore, I had no feeling about it. Now that the full realization has finally hit me, I have the feeling that I should like to follow him. Of course, the applies only if he is stationed somewhere halfway decent. I wouldn't go anywhere that would be a hole. I may change my mind after he goes away, but I can't, right now, conceive of getting along without him, I know that other people have done it, and I could probably do it too (and will), but it hurts deep down inside where nobody can reach.
It seems as though I always pour out my troubles to you, but I know that you can understand how I feel, as I understand about you when you write to me about being separated from Ev. I certainly am doing a lot for your morale. Here I am telling you my troubles instead of cheering you up.
Snuff and I went to the movies the other night, for the first time in weeks, and we saw "Four Jills in a Jeep." It was entertaining, but it had no plot. But then, who goes to the movies expecting a plot.
I just received a letter from one of the fellows I told you to look up. Never mind, now, he is in France. Keep away from him! Stay where you are.
There isn't much more I can think of saying right now, except write soon and often.
I had a letter from Ruth today. The woman she is staying with invited my mother down for four days (Mon. to Thurs.) of any week she chooses. Ruth wants me to convince my Mom to go down for the rest. I think, if it is at all possible, that I shall go down for those few days too and stay with the Browns, if I can arrange it. I'd like to see my Mom go and I think she'll go if I do. Nothing is definite, so am not making any plans just yet.
I had the “blues" again all day. I kept looking at the clock at work wondering what you were doing at each hour. Tonight I took my supper alone and sort or made believe that you were sitting opposite me at the table, with that lovey dovey look in your eyes that always went over big with me. Then I was really blue! In case you get this before yesterday's air mail letter, then I must inform you that Mom went to Browns Mills yesterday for a while and that is why I supped alone.
I called Dot after writing to you last night and read her the interesting parts of your 17 page letter of 9-10th July. I expect to definitely see her this weekend, even if I have to go out alone in the evening. She is all worked up about this "new business" you started with her, but I think you are safe in explaining your side, cause I'm sure you will receive complete understanding. Dot knows you pretty well by now. As you please, baby.
I'm sure when you don't hear any real complaints out of me that there isn't any need to tell you that I am getting sleep, though not every single night. I feel fine, though I do believe I've dropped a little weight due to the hot weather. My appetite falls off, but I make up for it by drinking lots of liquids. You wouldn't believe it, dear, but I actually drink several glasses of water each day. Mr. Bellet has a water cooler with Purock water and I enjoy a glass of that kind of water any day. I also have my dad bring me in a large 17¢ box of ice-cream each day to finish off my lunch, so you see, sweet, I'm treating myself pretty good these days.
We had a v-mail from Jack today and he mentioned that he wrote you two letters and has not heard from you in a long time. You two ought to get together. I guess you owe him a letter. Jack wrote the cutest v-mail to Diana Jean in which he wrote in the “very cute" vein, as only Jack can.
The weather is rather nice, getting very warm in the daytime and cool at night. I'm missing you more than ever, Phil dear, and hope that it won't be many more months before we will be together. I'll never tire of telling you of my deep love and adoration for you, and want, to demonstrate the extent of my love for you - though I doubt if even that can express fully the love I bear you, my sweet. I must run now, as I have to do a bit of pressing before I can hit the hay and I'm anxious to get finished early. Good night, see ya tomorrow - -
Your Eve
July 19, 1944
Dearest Phil,
It's a bit after five (I'm still at work) and having completed everything there is to be completed, I decided to take advantage of the time to get off a letter to you. There isn't much I can say, but I'll try to fill this page.
There wasn't any mail this morning, except a card from Glo, who is vacationing for one week at Saratoga Springs with her mother. Perhaps there was some this afternoon, but I shall have to wait til I get home to find out.
After posting your letter last night I proceeded to press and pressed for a full 2-1/2 hours, finally catching up. It had piled rather high and I did as much as I could, when I could. It took almost an hour of that time to do up Adele's new yellow pinafore, which is a piperoo to press.
When I completed the pressing I took a quick shower and landed in bed about 11:15. Adele slept straight through the night - all the way up to 7:45, so I had a good night's rest. In the morning I did my daily duties, making breakfast, cleaning our room, etc. and even caught in a bit of sewing, which had been piling up. Adele is still teething and I'm surprised it doesn't keep her up. It's a slow process and I'd be very happy if the whole thing were over with this minute. She's cutting four teeth at one time and these four will complete her set in front. She still has to get four 2 year molars to be really finished.
I eat my lunch at work now, instead of rushing to eat before leaving the house. I told Mr. Bellet that it would be necessary for me to eat at work, cause I didn't enjoy my lunch at the unearthly hour of 10:45 (after eating breakfast at 8:30) and he agreed that it would be better if I took off some time at work. My dad brings me in a box of ice-cream each day and whatever else I choose to have. I bring along a sandwich from home and if there isn't anything with which to make a sandwich, I have my dad bring that in too.
I suppose you're sleeping now, as it is after five, making it after 11 over there. Wish I could say move over and give me more room, cause I'd like nothing better than to be with you right now. I think I'm getting to be a sleepy head, cause I need lots of sleep to feel sufficiently rested.
(over)
I never thought I'd get this far, but here I am. How'm I doin', honey? (I just hit the 3/4 instead of the ? cause it's in a different place on this typewriter). This typewriter, by the way, is a Royal - an old one.
It's delightfully cool today and it would be a beautiful day if it weren't for the fact that there isn't any sun.
Mr. B. commented that "I sure do write a magilla" (if this is any sample). I interrupted this to total the day's bills and register the totals. It is now 6 P.M. (quitting time around here, babe) and I'm ready to quit. A middle aged man, who works for Mr. B part-time and lives in our neighborhood has been taking us home the past few nights. Mr. B. took an apartment in town and if Mr. Perry can't drive us home, his son will, so we still get a ride.
I'm waiting for my dad to wash up before I am able to leave. Guess I'd better sign off now, sweet, so I won't keep him or Mr. Perry waiting. My usual ending, that of "I love and adore you, my dearest Phil, will have to suffice this evening, but I'm sure it will be okay with you.
Today I received the kind of letter I like to receive from you, yours of 9-10th July - 17 pages long. Consequently, I thought of you constantly all day, and wasn't really any good for anything. I thought back to that night when you left me, Mom and Tante Shush to go with Jack and suddenly I became very, very lonesome. I've thought of that night often, and thought to myself: If only we had known we would be separated so long, we’d have made sure to be together that night. But I'm sure we'll be together all the nights to come! I missed you so much that night, just as I have missed you all year long.
I shall call Dot when I'm finished and read her the passage intended for her. Yes, dear, my posture was poor, but I have made efforts in that connection since you left (I'm unusually conscious about it anymore) and I sincerely hope you'll find me improved.
When you get to talkin' about what we'll do the first few weeks when you get back, it sounds almost unbelieveable. I do think I should like to go to New York and stay at Room 1777, the New Yorker for a few days to relive our never-to-be-forgotten honeymoon. Just a few days of New York would be enough and then I'd like to go up to a mountain or camp resort for a week or two to indulge in sports, bathe (perhaps you could teach me to really swim this time) and then I think I should like to take that boat ride you once took on your way back from Phoenicia. You know something, sweetness, I really don't care if we stay here at 4906, as long as you're here. I was wondering who would care for Adele when we left, cause I don't think I’d care to take her with us for the first week at least. Oh, we'll arrange everything to perfection when the time comes - I'm sure of that. Oh to look at you, to touch you, to feel you, to kiss you! - -
You're right when you say you can remold me - I always did like the way you "molded", honey. I'm glad you're getting confidence in your ability to write efficiently, for when you have that, half the battle will be won. I don't know if you've read the bill of rights for GI's thoroughly, sweet, but if you did, you may have noted that it really doesn't provide you with the opportunity to get schooling of any sort. This phase of opportunity seems to be reserved for those in the "under 25” group. Do you think there is any possibility of your getting schooling in journalism after the war?
My "free" Saturdays are not so free. I have Adele to care for - remember - and then I have an opportunity to catch up on all those little things I don't have time for during the week, like pressing, writing, cleaning, etc. Oh, I do some of it in the mornings, but I don't have sufficient time to get any real work completed.
Yesterday afternoon my dad, Adele and I went out to see the Hershovitz'. Adele played with Stevie, who is quite a cutie, looking more like a girl than a boy with his large blond curls and big blue eyes. He's the world's biggest demon at 14 months. He's got the record of getting out of playpen, crib, carriage and whatnot. He climbs everything and anything and you never know where you'll find him next. He is such a problem that Esther has decided to quit working and relieve her overtaxed mother. Esther is making $50 per week and during the next 13 weeks will make $56. She will quit her job in October. George looks fine and is Pfc. He is a "clerk-typist", too, but is attached to Intelligence, which makes his work a big, big secret. He asked all about you. My cousin Bella is going steady with a fellow that was discharged from the Army and undoubtedly it will be wedding bells for them in the very near future. Bell looks a million these days She also mentioned that her place is making more expensive dresses (for Adele) these days that are "gorgeous", wholesaling at $2 and selling for around $4. Most of the ladies around here think Adele has a lovely wardrobe (especially dresses) and I intend to keep up that "rep" if Bell can get me "gorgeous" dresses. Like Sarah says: "You can dress up an ugly child (is there such a thing?) to make it look pretty, but when you dress up a good-looking child, well, then you've got a doll". How true - how true! On second thought - it's not always true for a lot depends on the build of a child, as well as a grown-up when it comes to clothes. I do know that Adele looks like a regular doll from the store when she's dressed and you'd positively eat her up, like I do often. I love the way she says "Da-dee, home", screwing her mouth up to say the "home" so that she looks very much as if she were about to whistle. When asked what she will do to you, she hugs herself and blows a kiss. Yes, dear, I'm sure she'll know you, for she catches on to things quickly, especially things she likes. Every night now, we have a new). practice. I always try to have a few pennies in change so that she may throw them in the penny bank. Usually I don't have very many, so I empty the bank and let her refill it with the pennies.
Mom went to Browns Mills for an indefinite period tonight with Al. I kept urging her to go, but she didn't want to leave Goldie alone, saying it would be too much for Goldie. She changed her mind yesterday, as Ethel called from Browns Mills and insisted that she come out.
Pauline called yesterday to tell us that Uncle Sam thought of something new to aid the building of ships and the patent for whatever he thought of passed. He was supposed to go to the office this morning about it, so will let you know more about it when I do, I understand Phil is now in the Med. Corps and can't contact Em as she goes down the shore for weekends and is never home when I call.
I worked as per usual today. Oh yes, we had dinner at my Aunt's and left shortly afterward, going along with Esther and George. We took the Lehigh car and they departed at Broad for the North Philly station while we rode down to 8th to catch the 47. My cousin Meyer was president of his class at college and made quite a name for himself. He worked like a dog night and day, holding down a job at the same time to keep going and did it for three years. He looked like a shadow of his former self in the pictures she showed me. Naturally my Aunt is broken up about it, wishing very much that he had had some time to himself after working three hard years, before going into the army.
When we got home I bathed and put Adele to bed and proceeded to wash and press til 11:30 before hitting the hay. I awoke at 7 and felt lousy all day long, cause I'm "due" most any day now. The "blues" had me in their grip all day long - oh, baby mine, I love you so much - I kept wanting you all day long (and after I reported that I had been doing so nicely sexually!).
I had a letter from Sy and he does sound better in this letter. He asked for your address, that he might drop you a line. He also requested a picture of Adele and myself. He said the orders and regulations sound terribly silly at times, but that he was getting used to everything and anything. Your June bond came this morning, too. That brings our maturity value of bonds up to $625. I have high hopes of reaching $1000 before 1945 rings in and then we'll have something to buy a home with, if ever we decide to buy. And now, dearly beloved, I must sign off as sleep is very important when you have a big day before you, I am and always will be
We picked up the officers at the Officers' Club, and headed back to camp, Klein, as per usual, singing most of the way. Truly, Ev, there is never a dull moment with Klein in the vicinity. If he isn't singing, he's dancing, or mugging, or recounting all the dirty details of one of his more lurid adventures. What a guy!
This morning dawned gray and misty and cool. I really hated to get out of bed, but that isn't unusual by any means. The ole sack feels pretty good just before time to get up. There wasn't much doing around the Orderly Room, my work being pretty well cleaned up for the month. Most of the morning was spent chewing the fat with Sgt. Murphy, Sgt. Castellano and Cpl. Hegen. After lunch, I prepared a couple of allotment forms and had more words with the aforementioned threesome. The mail brought me your V-mail of 9 July.
This gave the first intimation that Gloria was in town again. You talk about going in town to see "Going my Way” at the Mastbaum. I'glad you enjoyed it, Baby. It does my heart good to know that you get out occasionally for a good time. I kinda thought you would be impressed with the beauty of the Mastbaum Theater. We’ll be go ing there some day - I promise you. "Going my Way" showed at the base here about a month ago, but I think I was on CQ that night, and missed it as a consequence. By the way, who is Thelma? You mention encountering Shirley’s sister and brother-in-law, and you say Shirley and Yale are “still in the same place". Where is that? They're moved a few times and I'm all balled up. Please inform, Honey.
About the flying bombs, Sweet. I've already promised I wouldn't go to London until the danger is entirely past. You may rest assured I'll keep that promise. Please don't give it another thought. I deplore the fact that the lousy hun was responsible for causing you even a moment's anxiety. Don't make me feel worse by worrying any further about it.
I was surprised to learn that the Benis' were in town, but I can't understand their inability to get up to see you. Surely, they didn't come all the way from Columbus just to spend a day or so in Philly. And if they were staying any longer, they could certainly spare an hour or two to visit you. As I say, it's all very puzzling. Anyway, I hope you got to see them, and they you.
I read all about the fire at the circus, Baby, and was as horrified as you must have been.
Reading the Stars and Stripes this evening, I came across an item on the tentative plans being made for demobilization. It appears that they are intending to start demobilizing immediately after germany has surrendered. The article says that "men with children will be given priority over those without children". Which is all very encouraging - don't you think? Think I'll enclose the item so you can read it for yourself.
All the foregoing brings me up to date, Baby, and since it is almost "date time", I'll sign off for tonight with all my love for my adored Chippie, her sweet and lovely daughter, and all the Strongins and Pallers - may God keep you all well. Tell Mom I'm very sorry I haven't found the opportunity to write her letter yet, but that I think of her often, and mean to as soon as I get the chance. Hasta Manana, carissima,
This letter would never have been written had I not met your brother Harry near 40th and Girard one day not so long ago. Thru your wife, I then received notice of your whereabouts etc. etc. It couldn't surprise me to learn of your being a pappy since I too am among that category. Yep, it's a little female. Nuff about kids. How have you been and just what are you doing of interest? Been so damn long since I've seen you, I don't know what you've learned about me in the past or what you've heard. My old outfit is now somewhere in Italy keeping busy and doing much more than I can talk about, or what might prove of interest to you. While at Fort Dix, awaiting orders to ship, I met with an accident which not only prevented my going, but, hospitalized me for almost nine months. Result of injuries were, both legs and toe broken. Serious at first but I managed to live. Had an opportunity to get out but this outfit I am with now was forming and they asked me to come here and do what I could. That was about the time I was being discharged. We are stationed in a school around the corner from the arsenal. It is mainly interested in fire control and artillery which it specializes with. Some of the top men in the country are stationed here and are sent on field trips all over the world. Course, this little cripple can't get to go anyplace anymore. Not really crippled of course, just can't make the boat. I intend having your wife come to our place for dinner very soon. We've written to each other and I expect to ask her over this week. You remember my wife of course??? Frances Segal by maiden name. I live at home and it makes things rather nice. Then again, one can't help becoming jittery and wanting to get away for awhile. Sounds almost insane, yes? Am in my fourth year and lord knows I don't care for another day of it. Perhaps by the end of the warm weather, we may be celebrating in grand style, once again. Let me know all about yourself when you get the time. Don't tell me you haven't any. I know too many boys there and many who have come back. You probably haven't a thing to do. (kidding of course, oh yeah)
Sincerely,
Mike Nerenberg
July 16, 1944
Dearest Phil,
I started to write you a v-mail yesterday and then tore it up cause I wasn't in a writing mood. I forgot to tell you that yesterday was Mom's birthday and I had practically forgotten it too. I haven't gotten her anything yet, but I will.
We had a new colored girl in to clean yesterday and she did the whole place in eight hours. It's a pleasure! She charged $4 and carfare.
I was busy with little things all day long. Adele was very cranky due to her teeth and was off schedule. In the evening I got dressed and took a short walk with Adele. I wore a blue and white pinafore, she wore her red and white.
Today Petey made three snaps of Adele all dressed up in her lovely yellow pinafore. Adele held the skirt of her dress out when asked to and even smiled for us! One of the snaps may be a little blurred cause she moved too suddenly, but the other two should be beautiful. If those pictures aren't the best yet, then I give up.
When Betty moved she told me I could have the shades from her house. They didn't fit the porch, but today my dad is cutting them down and although we may not have enough for every window, we should be able to cover the side facing the street and the one smaller window beside the front door. At least they will be sun protectors. On counting them, I think we'll have enough for all windows, except the door and extra large window.
Goldie is a regular "nut" when it comes to caring for the baby. She doesn't have time to eat or sleep nor does she care if she does. She can't make enough fuss about the kid. Diana is progressing nicely and is losing all her hair. She is almost bald at the moment. She weighs 8-1/2 lbs.
No one in the drive can get over the way Adele follows directions to perfection. They think she is very unusual indeed. They particularly like the way she says, "Da-dee - home" just as clear as a bell. She says "home" just as you and I would, only she enunciates more. She imitates anything and everything, For instance: Today my dad was banging with the hammer to fix the shades. Adele banged the same noise on the top of the table and said, "Pop". That's her way of saying the sentence before my last one.
Mom taught Adele how to tickle. Adele makes Mom and I lie down and then delights in tickling herself and us and we all laugh very hard and sort of put it on for her benefit.
I expect to go out to Esther's when Adele wakes from her nap, if she isn't cranky. It's very warm today. I just finished hanging a whole yard of clothes (Adele's and mine only) that my mother washed for me.
As you can see by my letter, there isn't much to write about in the way of news. I've been missing you more keenly than ever of late, baby, and I kind of think it's cause I love you so very much, huh. Oh - baby - how I wish you were here at this very moment! It's exactly 1:45 and for all I know you may be writing to me this very moment, too. If you'll move just a trifle closer, you'll get a big hug and kiss from
Your Eve
16 July 1944
Dearest Darling,
Last night being a very pretty one, I decided to take a ride into town with Klein. That is why I didn't write. First we took in a movie, "Andy Hardy's Blonde Trouble", which we found highly entertaining. Mickey Rooney gives his usual masterful performance. The Wilde twins are very attractive and talented, and Bonita Granville is very sweet as the sweet young co-ed. Herbert Marshall adds a note of quality to the cast with a very reserved and very fine performance. The rest of the cast is good as always. I must say some thing about the costumes of the Wilde twins. They wear the most attractive clothes I have seen on the screen in a long while. Take note, Chippie. The plot is the usual confused sort of thing that is typical of all Hardy Family pictures, but it still makes for a good evening's fun. I enjoyed it.
After the show, we walked over to the "Dees”. This time the older folks were not at home (they were out someplace playing poker), but the kids were, The Dees have two children, Fay, a very big girl of 16, whose quiet voice and general meek demeanor are a strange contrast to her amazon-like appearance, and Harold, 15, also very big and strong and matured for his age. They are both good-looking, talented musically, and very sociable. Fay, over whom Klein is always making a large fuss, treating her as if she were a baby, pinching her cheek and calling her "Faigele", and making the most ridiculous show of affection over her, plays the piano and accordion (both expertly). Harold plays the drums with an orchestra. Klein's behavior toward "Faigele" is really laughable, it is so inconsistent with her age and size. Whenever she comes near him, he's all over her like a tent (if you can picture it), flattering her unmercifully and constantly, hugging her, and saying the most ridiculous and exaggeratedly affectionate things. I describe it badly - one must see it to believe it. Everyone is used to Klein and his antics, and hardly notice it. Fay, for her part, tolerates him much as an elephant would tolerate a bothersome flea. When she gets really annoyed with him, which is much rarer than you might think, she merely grabs him and removes him, without showing so much as a flicker of impatience or annoyment. She is tremendously powerful for a girl, and handles Klein, who is no weakling himself, as if he were a pup. Perhaps the most interesting character of the assemblage, which included three other kids of the neighborhood (also musicians), was Murray, whom Klein fondly refers to as "The Professor". He is an undersized runt of a kid, about eight or nine years old, wears large horn-rimmed glasses, is remarkably intelligent for his years, and plays boogie-woogie on the piano to delight the heart of the most finicky lover of this type of music - no kiddin'. For that matter, the whole lot of them are boogie-woogie addicts. One kid, about 13 years old, plays the sax and the piano. Another, blonde and good-looking, and about the same age, plays the trumpet. Yet, in spite of their tender years, they are all unusually accomplished musicians, I was relieved to find that there was no violin around. I'm almost afraid to play for them for fear of being thought a rank amateur! I fooled around with Fay's accordion most of the evening, and acquired a great liking for it. I've decided to learn to play it after I learn to play the piano well enough to give me a good foundation for the accordion. Did I ever tell you, Sweet, that I fully intend to take piano lessons when I get home? I hope to know enough about it to teach the punkin by the time she is ready for music lessons. That'll be when she's about five years old. Anyhow, to get back to the subject, I fooled around with the accordion while Klein fooled around with "Faigele", while she fooled around preparing a snack of poached eggs on toast, cake and tea for us. I did manage to get her to play for me, both on the piano and the accordion. She also took the trouble to explain the bass to me. The reason for all the little white buttons on the left hand had always puzzled me. This was the first opportunity I had ever had of inquiring about them. However, it's a pretty complicated business, and will take a lot of learning. I don't have to tell you that I was most reluctant to leave such interesting and entertaining company when it came time to go. I don't have to tell you, Sweet, that I enjoyed myself immensely, you must have gathered as much.
Your letters of 4th and 5th July arrived this afternoon, and while they were very sweet, and filled with the latest doings of Miss Adele Bara, they require no particular comment. Your description of your duties at the office and the office itself were entirely adequate, I assure you, Honey. If you'll check on the address of the C & B 5 & 10, I think you will find it is located in Kennet Square, and not in Kenneth Square, as you had it spelled in that letter you enclosed.
It appears that Mr. Bellet does a much larger business than you led me to believe. If he handles such things as sink strainers, he must have a pretty miscellaneous line. I think I might like a job selling for such a concern, and I'd like to know a little more about the possibilities and opportunities there. Think you could enlighten me, Chippie?
Your bit about Adele's inquisitiveness and her need for her own room was very intriguing, to say the least. I think I drew a pretty definite picture of her actions from your half-veiled hints. Hell, I'm not surprised. After all, take me, - after long and intimate acquaintance with the “phenomena" you referred to, I never lost my curiosity, did I? It is understandable, then, that the punkin, having much more reason for being inquisitive (everything is still so new to her), reacted as she did. Yes, dear, I agree that Adele will need her own room shortly after I get back. It's going to be fun shopping for her furniture and planning the decorations, and, to tell the truth, I've been thinking about just that for some time now. I've given a lot of thought, too, to redecorating 4906 as a whole.
Glad to hear that Diana Jean (a lovely name) is picking up nicely. But you forgot to say how Goldie is coming along.
Well, Chippie, it appears there were a few things, after all, that excited comment.
Today has been just about the prettiest we have had to date, and I think I will go along with Klein again tonight. Tell you all about it tomorrow, Baby. I'll have to rush off now, if I want to catch Klein. Forgive me if I seem to cut this off rather abruptly, Sweet. Just remember that my love goes on and on. A fond kiss for the punkin. My love to all.
Received yours of the 5th and 8th July today, honey, and they were especially welcome, since there had been three mailless days in between. I didn't write last night, as Fay's mother stopped over here and asked me to write to Fay for her. By the time I had Adele in bed and wrote her letter it was almost 11 and I was all tuckered (no comment, now) out.
I'm glad you had such a nice time on your pass and that you're not thinking of going to London. A small portion of your letter (where you get to talking about the flying bombs and London) was cut away. I feel lot(s) better now!
I'll try to get several pyrex bottles and send them along in my next package. I don't have any myself, but I think I can get some. I'll make up a whole package within the next few days.
I bathed Diana this morning since she was being initiated. Yep, it was her first bath. She was very hungry since her feeding came shortly afterward and cried most of the time. Goldie's permanent came out very nice. It's a little short, but it is becoming. Don't worry, honey, I have no intentions of cutting mine, Harry was out to the track again today, for the third time this week. That makes about six times in two weeks. I asked him if he was changing his address from 4906 to Garden State Park, and I don't. think he cared for that remark.
Thursday the terrible heat spell broke with a rainspell. It rained all day and cooled off delightfully in the evening. So much so that our darling offspring slept til five minutes after eight (I can’t get over it!). My pay today amounted to $20.28 and will probably be the same amount each week, now that I've stopped working on Sats. The truck driver at Mr. Bellet's place paid me a lovely compliment today. He came in to get some of the bills I had readied and let loose with this "I don't like to throw bouquets, Evelyn, but you're the best they've had in this place to date!” And he's been there with Mr. B. for many years ! I was flattered. In fact I'm almost tempted to hit Mr. B. for a raise. I don't think I will for a while yet, but I will - some day. Furthermore I certainly hope I won't work there more than a few months. I'd rather have you home any day. I don't know why the hell I'm so optimistic these days! If the war did keep up I don't think I'd care to work past Xmas, at the very most. I like my job immensely and the money it brings has freed my mind of any financial difficulty whatever, to say nothing of how good it has been to me mentally and physically. Yet I wouldn't like to think of staying there for say a year. I want very much to get back to how we used to live - and soon.
This morning Adele had a great time - she threw "pen nees" into the penny bank and didn't want to stop. As soon as she sees a pocketbook she says "mon-ee", Adele learned to say Gloria's name (she would have to learn after Glo left) and says "go ri a" so that it sounds almost correct. I wish you could see her imitate Petey burp. No one can get over the remarkable control Petey has over Adele and several of the mothers in the drive have asked him whether he would try to do something with their kids.
Sydney Taylor is in on an emergency furlough and I chanced to meet him in the drive this evening. He doesn't look as well as he did and he isn't too crazy about the U. S. Army - and he enlisted. He asked about you and Ed and Sy.
Rae is here for dinner this evening and asked me not to forget to send along regards. I read her a portion of one of your recent letters in which you | asked me to have either Mickey or Rae drop you a line.
Esther's George is in on furlough and I called him the other morning. He asked about you, too. I hope to see him this weekend if I can manage it.
Our Jack wrote the cutest letter direct to Diana Jean. One sentence was particularly cute, as only Jack can be - "I hope I get to see you before you get too big for your diapers -"
I got off four letters to other people Wed. night by sitting up til 11. I wrote to Ruth, Sy, Glo and Milt.
I'd better sign off now, baby mine, as it is late and I want to get some sleep. We're having a new girl in to clean tomorrow and I have many things to do besides helping her. I intend to go to either Esther's or Dot's in the afternoon. I'm able to keep Adele up late so I can spend the good part of the evening wherever I go
I have a date with Petey for Sunday morning - he's promised to make Adele's pictures in her yellow pinafore - all for widdle you. He has little time to spare on Sundays as he goes to visit his mother and is being very nice about it. I'm so sleepy right now, baby, that I can just about see to type this.
I love you so much, darling, and I'm so anxious to see you once more --
Your Eve
14 July 1944
My Darling,
Just got back from the Base Theater, where I saw " Thank Your Lucky Stars" for the second time. I still have time to get off a letter, so here I am to give you the latest news, and to answer your letters of the 2nd and 3rd July, which arrived this afternoon. You'll notice, Sweet, that I am single-spacing. That's because I would like to make this a real "longie". Will you settle for this long sheet typed and single-spaced? It's a pretty large order, but I'll do my best.
Last night I attended a "round table” discussion at the Aero Club. The speakers were four very learned gentlemen. Two were officers in the British Army, a Major, and a Lieut.-Colonel. The Major, in private life was a barrister (lawyer ), and the Lieut.-Colonel was a member of Parliament. The other two were professors at Cambridge. The idea was this: The G.I.s asked the questions, about anything they wanted to know about such as English institutions, education, taxes, current events, etc. The "Brains Trust", as the four gentlemen were billed on the notices around the station, undertook to answer each question put to them. It was a very entertaining and educational evening. I enjoyed listening to the precise English of the Britishers, and learned quite a bit about things in general. Did you know, for instance, that each British wage-earner pays a direct tax of 50% of his earnings to the government? This means that if a fellow makes ₤10 a week (40 dollars), he must turn ₤5 back in taxes? - And the Americans groan under their tax burden!
I went to bed at 11 o'clock, but, unfortunately, I didn't go to sleep. Somehow, Sgt. Overman and I got to talking, and just like a coupla old hens, we forgot to stop. It must have been past two o'clock when we decided to quit and get some shut-eye. We talked about everything under the sun, but mostly, the talk was about our wives, how they made us skimp and save before marriage, how we "sweated out” our babies, pacing the hospital corridors, what we planned to do once we got home, etc., etc., - far, far into the night.
It was kinda tough gettin' out of bed this morning, but by a supreme effort of will, I finally managed to roll out - fifteen minutes late. The morning was spent making out the Officers' pay vouchers and passed very quickly. About 2:30 in the afternoon, I became very sleepy, and not having anything to do that couldn't wait until tomorrow, I asked Sgt. Murphy if I couldn't have the rest of the afternoon off. He said O.K., so I headed for my bunk and proceeded to take a nap. I awoke feeling rested and ready for anything. When I learned that "Thank Your Lucky Stars" was playing at the theater, I thought it would be kinda nice to hear Dinah Shore sing "How Sweet You Are" and the “The Dreamer" again. I love to hear her sing, and these are two of her best numbers. I think I've told you that the former is my favorite,
Forgot to tell you, Sweet, that when I awoke after my nap, I found your two letters lying against my cheek on the cushion, where Cpl. Hegen, the mail-orderly had put them. They certainly were a welcome sight after three mail-less days!
After the show, I stopped in the hut, chatted a while with Sgt. Overman, and then picked up your letters, re-read them, and came over to the Orderly Room to type out this letter (which promises to be longer than I thought).
Now to your letters. After a few rather obscure paragraphs in which you attempt to say something in regard to my last "sermon" (I don't rightly know what), you tell me about Adele's pretty new yellow pinafore. It sounds, from your description, like the last word in what our discriminating young lady of nineteen months should wear. I'll bet it's even prettier than you say it is. It's good to know, Sweet, that I am contributing something to my daughter's wardrobe. Thanks for making such good use of the money I sent you. But when are you going to get that dress for yourself? The Limey told me about his being wounded in his letter, but since you made no mention of it in your last, I assumed that he hadn't told you at home. Evidently he reckoned without the War Department, who has no such qualms. That is why I said nothing about it when I referred to his letter in my last. Happily, he wasn't hurt bad, and is all O.K. now. He expects to rejoin his outfit soon, and thinks he may get some sort of a leave directly afterward. I sure would like to see the guy!
You had to cut that letter short cause Anne was visiting (a likely excuse!). Anyhow, give Anne my love and tell her I'm sore at her for depriving me of a few extra paragraphs. Your letter of the 3rd was nice and long (even though you had to cut it short on account of company again), and I enjoyed your account of the latest doings of the punkin. Knowing your aversion to bragging about the kid, I can well believe that she is even more remarkable than you imply. She must be adorable about now, and I'm not surprised that the pride and love you feel for her, repressed as it is when you write about her, is all the more evident for your obvious reticence and reluctance to make a fuss about her. Your modesty is most becoming, Mrs. Strongin, but it doesn't fool me. If you are not literally bursting with pride in our lovely and talented daughter, then I don't know my Chippie. Truth to tell, Sweet, I'm kinda proud of her myself. Not more so, though, than I am of her Mommy, who has done such a wonderful job of raising her. This in spite of very real and severe handicaps, which no one else can possibly appreciate as well as I. I'll never stop admiring you for that, darling, and a lifetime of all the loving devotion of which I am capable will not be long enough to repay you for it. The love and tenderness that wells up in my me whenever I think of you and what you have done for me are so heart-filling, that I think some times I'll burst with the fulness of it. Oh, for the opportunity to release some of that long pent-up emotion where it has always been welcome! Baby mine, I need you more than you can possibly know. Good night for now, my darling. I adore you. My dearest love to our sweet punkin. My love to all.
Forever, Your Phil
P. S. Forgot to mention that baby-furniture circular you sent along. I thought some of the illustrated sets were very nice. Some day, Chippie ----
This is my first letter in three days. On the 11th, just as I was about to settle down to write, my dinner suddenly decided to disagree with me. I fought nausea the rest of the night, and was was only relieved after eating a whole package of the extra-strong peppermints we get in our rations. Last night, since I had had no mail from you on the 11th or 12th, I decided to write to Harry W. and our Jack. Don't get me wrong, Chippie. I didn't pass you up 'cause I was sore about not receiving mail from you (although I wasn't very happy about it), but because I really had nothing of moment to write about. On the other hand, I was most anxious to get off letters to Limey and Jack. Limey thinks he may be able to get a leave, and had asked me to arrange a meeting, or at least to tell him where to meet me. I thought it wise not to let any grass grow under my feet in this matter, and sent off the information he required. I am now waiting to hear from him, and hoping he can manage to get up to see me. Unfortunately, I cannot go to him, much as I'd like to. Brother Jack in his letter seemed a bit concerned for my welfare. I thought it might be a good idea not to waste any time re-assuring him. His letter, written on D-Day, shortly after he heard the news of the landings in France over the radio, arrived on the 11th. I remember complaining to you on the 10th that I couldn't understand why I hadn't heard from him in so long a time. Apparently, he was under the impression that I owed him a letter. Anyhow, Sweet, after finishing the two letters, I was pretty tired, but because it was only 8 o'clock and I still had time to catch the U.S.O. show at the Base Theater, I decided to forego writing to you another day and catch up on a little relaxation and entertainment. The show was swell, but I won't give you the details here because I just finished telling Dot all about it in a letter I just sent off to her. As I told her, I hate to repeat anything in writing, and instructed her to call you and read you certain parts of her letter. (She'll probably read it in its entirety, anyway). That bit about the dance should interest you, Baby. It was really sump'n! Watching that gal made me awful lonesome and homesick - more so than I’ve been in a long time. I think you'll understand why when you know the contents of Dot's letter.
As you know, Sweet, I have been pretty busy these last few days with the payroll. I finished it early yesterday afternoon. Today, which was the lull between the Enlisted Men's and the Officers' pay-rolls, was a dull one, and I took advantage of the break to get off that "longie" to Dot. This afternoon, I counted the minutes until the nail should come in. I thought there would surely be something for me today. However, when the mail did come in, there was only a handful - and not a single letter for yours very lovingly. To say I was disappointed would be putting it mildly! The PO is all balled up. We keep getting other outfits' mail by mistake. No doubt ours is going astray, too. In filing some of your letters yesterday, I noticed that I am missing quite a few of June's letters - some of them in the early part of the month. WONDER IF (S’cuse it, please) I'll ever get them?
The newspapers claim a good bit of my attention these days, and I'm following developments of all fronts very closely. On the whole, things look very promising. I can imagine how the news must be affecting all of you at home these days. No one can deny that things are rapidly approaching a climax, but how soon it will come no one can say for sure. But they can't keep us from dreaming, can they, Baby?
Can't think of another single, solitary thing to say, Chippie, so I'll sign off now with all my love to the sweetest, swellest girl in the world, and her daughter and mine, the inimitable and adorable Adele Bara, long may she wave! Good night, my darlings. Don't forgot to give my love to all the rest of the Strongins, their relatives, and their friends. Tell Mom my conscience is bothering me something awful at the delay in getting at the letter I promised her some weeks back. But she owes me a letter, too. Ask her how she feels. 'Bye now!
