Post #424 - July 27, 28, 1944 The Only Home We Know Here is a Foxhole and Educational Opportunities Will Be Offered Only to the Youngsters (Under 25)

 

July 27, 1944.

Dearest Phil,

I started to write this on the 27th, but here it is the 28th and I’m just getting started. Reason: I got into a sort of debate with Lil on the phone last night that took up most of the evening. It was too late to start a letter then and I wasn't in the mood.

Well, I was right about Eddie. These are some sentences from a letter he wrote to Jack, "The only home we know here is a foxhole - I've been through some big battles but I'm still in there pitching - I hope I make it back someday". Somehow I’ve managed to keep my mind free of war, regardless of how bad the news may have been, but now It sort of makes me sick to my stomach to get it direct. I think I'd do better if I didn't write some of my feelings, then only one of us will be in a bad way. Not that I'm "off" but it has gotten me down a bit.

Yesterday I received your nice short letter of July 22nd, which made you only five days away from me. Mr. Bellet received word yesterday that his oldest son had moved from England to France and he is non-combatant. I wonder if you'll be moving out now??? It seems they are slowly, but surely, moving into France. I feel pretty good where you are concerned, honey. By the way, I understand that it's just possible that Milt Brown is seeing action. He wrote the family not to expect any mail from him for a while and I, myself, have not had mail for several weeks, after having received from one to two letters per week from him. You also asked about Yale and I do have some news about him. Yale and Shirley have been in Oklahoma since their furlough and it seems that Yale was supposed to be shipped to China. However, he requested a medical examination to determine his fitness and is in the hospital at present. I doubt if he will be considered fit, or so Etta thinks. Goldie and Harry had a letter from Eddie today and he seems to be fine. Goldie feels much better now that she has stopped nursing and is "drying up".

Today was payday, but all of it is going for gifts. I must get Paul something for his birthday, which is tomorrow, and something for Fay’s kid, who will be a year old on the 30th, plus a gift for Esther's kid, whom I promised a gift some time ago. I hear that Esther may join George in the near future with the baby. Anne expected Tony to come in from POE and he said he would, but here it is a week and he hasn't showed up. Guess he couldn't make it after all. She knows he was in N.J. as he sent some pictures that bore a N.J. stamp.

By the time this reaches you, sweet, we'll have been separated for the eternally long time of one solid year. God, how much longer will we have to wait! Adele says two very cute things, "blessu" for bless you and "oh, boy!", drawing out the “oh” and making it sound very cute. Miss Hahn has asked me whether I would join the Blue Cross, she listing me as her employee and I think I shall join if I can convert the policy to cover you and Adele some day. Guess that just leaves me room enough to tell you once more that I love you dearly, sweet Phil, and that I miss you so very much.

Your Eve

28 July 1944

Darling Evvie,


Yesterday afternoon I received your letter of 17 July in answer to my “17-pager of 9-10 July.” In it, you said that my letter of 9-10 "was the kind of letter I like to receive from you." I repeat that sentiment in regard to your own letter of the 17th—in spades! You said many things that were brimful of love and longing. You talked about the places you would like to go to, and the things you would like to do the first few weeks after I come home, and painted such pretty pictures in my mind that I was lost in nostalgia the rest of the evening. So much so that although I was CQ last night, and had both the time and opportunity to write reams and reams, I could only lay on the bunk and dream—(and what dreams!). Your desire to stay once again in Room 1777, Hotel New Yorker to “re-live our never-to-be- forgotten honeymoon" (as you so happily phrased it) couldn't possibly be one whit stronger than my own yen to do just that. It is my one immediate ambition. Your suggestion about staying at a camp or mountain-resort to “indulge in sports" is well-meant, I know, but somehow it doesn't appeal to me. That would imply “mixing” with a crowd, and that I definitely would not like. I want you all to myself, with no distractions. A quiet, secluded cabin in the country or mountains would be just the thing, I think. It occurred to me that we might combine business with pleasure by making the trip to Denver, Colorado. We could "do" New York the first week, and then come back home, pick up the punkin, and head for the wide open spaces. If we have a car then, we'll go that way in easy stages. I’d prefer it, because we'd be able to map an itinerary whereby we could visit our friends in Columbus, and a few of my buddies whose homes lay on our route. However, if the car is out of the question, the trip via one of the new "super deluxe" trains wouldn't be too hard to take, either. What do you think of the idea, Sweet?

Seems I was laboring under a delusion in regard to the G.I. Bill of Rights! You're right, of course. Educational opportunities will be offered only to the youngsters (under 25). Too bad, but I'll find a way - you'll see! Even if I don't attain a school of journalism, that isn’t going to discourage me. I'll write—regardless—as long as I have a thought to commit to paper, and even if I know my efforts are ultimately destined for the waste-paper basket. You want to know if I think there is any possibility of getting schooling in journalism after the war. Of course, the training is always to be had—for a price, but as far as getting it gratis (thru the good offices of the government) goes, I don't think so.

I note that you “urged" Mom to go to Brown's Mills. Evidently, you thought that Goldie could manage alone, else you wouldn't have “urged" her to go. I'm sure I can rely on your good judgment in the matter, Baby, but, frankly, the same questions I put in yesterday's letter are still unexplained.

I'm waiting to hear more about Uncle Sam’s new “patent.” I never thought he was gifted that way.

What on earth is Phil doing in the Medical Corps, of all places!?


That certainly was a tough break cousin Meyer got. Of course I remember him!

I suppose I should sympathize with you, Sweet, when you write so pensively about “wanting” me—and I do—but at the same time my male ego glories in the fact—I'm not hypocrite enough deny it. Besides, it serves you right! After all—consider what the lack of you does to me. —Reminds me of that line you used to quote. "It's heaven and it's hell and it's swell." —Was a time when I couldn't figure where the “hell" came into it—but I'm learning—I’m learning—

Glad to know that your accumulation of war bonds is reaching a substantial figure, Chippie. If you have anything to say about it, and I fancy you will have, we'll be rich yet.

Finally got off a letter to Ed late yesterday afternoon. Hope it gets to him, ’cause I'm not sure whether or not his address has changed. I think not, though.

Sorry must conclude this now, Chippie, but Sgt. Murphy tells me he has a mess of work for me—and you know how sergeants are—one must humor them. So long for now, my sweet. Tell me more about what we’re going to do some day—I love it! I love you, too—or did you know that? Tell the lass about “choo-choos", and make it plain to her that daddy and mommy will be taking her for a ride on one some day soon. A kiss for Adele from her loving “da-dee,” none other than

Your Phil

Post #423 - July 26, 1944 Mom Came Home This Morning as Harry Asked Her to Come Home and There’s Always the Good Ole American Jive to Make Me Homesick

 

July 26, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart, 

Mom came home this morning as Harry asked her to come home. Seems as though caring for a baby and feeding her hubby is entirely too much for Goldie. Certainly is a different picture than the one where we had to go to Columbus. I'm afraid I shall never forget it much as I want to, I'm sure I'll feel lots better toward all members of the Strongin Clan once I can have my very own home—privately.

I had a nice v-mail from Jack S. today and will reply in kind this evening. I managed to get off letters to both Sy and Ed last night. Adele simply would not go to sleep and I had to bring her down again as she cried til she was red in the face and exhausted. She never did go to sleep til ten, so you can imagine how late it was when I finished with my correspondence.

There is something in the way of excitement—there was a terrible fire at 2nd & Market Sts. which had the whole neighborhood black with smoke. I wore my yellow piqué dress and it was spotted with little black dots from the dirt. Two firemen were injured when the fire broke out in all its fury. At least seven buildings were burned. We all waited a half hour watching til the smoke made the entire scene fade—you couldn’t even see a hand in front of you.

By the way I acquired a pair of dubonnet loafers (sport shoes) much like those you pointed out to me in that clipping I sent you of my high heeled shoes from I. Miller) which belong to Ruth. I got caught in a rainstorm last week and had to change at my mom's. She gave me the shoes and l’ve kept them since. Ruth always wanted to sell them so I’ll pay her for them when she gets back from the shore.

The people who bought the house next door are going to town on it—venetian blinds all over (cost $118 for the porch alone) archways and whatnots. It’s going to be really lovely when they are finished.

By the way, I mailed off that package of 5th Avenue bars on Tues.

That finishes me off for tonight, baby, if I'm to get off any other letters tonight. Need I add that I love you and that that love grows ever stronger with the passing days. I also love the title of

Your Eve

26 July 1944 

Darling Chippie,

Hardly know where to start this evening. Outside of the fact that the weather was uncommonly nice, and that I spent most of the evening at the dance at the Aero club, it was the typically routine day. Even to the extent that there was no mail whatever from anyone.

After work, I bathed, shaved, dressed, and rode down to the club, where I had a snack, listened to the radio, and read some old American comics that were lying about. When the dancing started, I went into the “Snack Room,” which I have told you is pretty large, and also serves as the dance hall. The dancers were the usual crowd of girls that show up each week, and the same clique of G.I.s that are usually in attendance. I believe I've told you about the girls before, but I think I neglected to mention the one great difference between them and our own American girls. This struck me as I watched tonight. The English girls (remember that I am referring only to those t have observed, which is a very small proportion of the total) seem, in the main, to lack the poise, grace and intelligence of their American counterparts. They are comparatively clumsy dancers. So much so that the G.I.s, dancing or walking, are the more graceful of the two sexes. The girls, too, are rather young, the majority being in their early teens, and are a pretty common lot (if’n you know what I mean—!) of the thirty or forty girls that usually attend, I have still to see one that could justly be called pretty. Occasionally, the eye lingers a moment on a face or figure that is a little better than the ordinary run, or a good pair of legs may hold some attraction, but on the whole they aren't the type we would look twice at in the States. So it is, Chippie, that while the G.I. band makes with music that makes you wanta dance, the gals somehow spoil my appetite for it. However, I do enjoy watching the fun, and there's always the good ole American jive to make me homesick, and to make me miss my one and only dancing partner very, very much.

A 11 o'clock sharp, the band played the "Star Spangled Banner" then "God Save the King, and the dance was finished. The last light of day was dying, a balmy summer breeze blowing, as I rode slowly back to the company area. I rode slowly because it was such a beautiful evening, and because many tender memories of you were crowding my mind. Memories that came and went, and left a great longing with their going.

The guys in the hut have been waiting patiently for me to finish this and put out the lights. I don't want to keep them any longer. Good-night, sweet Chippie. I love you so very much—A loving kiss from me,

your adoring husband,
Phil

26 July 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your letter of the 20th of July and was glad to hear from you again. I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. I'm feeling fine and in the best of health also.

Well that letter will get to your C.O. in time or else back to me. Well as for meeting you I can't get all the way out to you for it is just too far away. I looked it up on the map and made arrangements that I can meet you in Birmingham at the Red Cross Club there if you can get the time off. You see that would

Censored

You write and let me know if you can make it and then let me know. The best time would be the first week in Aug. on the week-end. Write and let me know if you can make that kind of arrangement.

Well I don't think I'll be home before the baby is born for it will be in Aug. or Sept. Yes we both wanted it that way and that is the way it turned out. I also found out that Harry was in the hosp. and I tried to find out if he was in a hosp. somewhere in England and then I'd try and get to see him. I saw my brother-in-law in a hosp. here, he was also wounded in the invasion on D-Day and is recovering all right now. Well I'll have to cut short now for I also work in the orderly room and also help the personnel clerk and have it a little easy on certain days. I have to take some of the fellows somewhere and I want to get to you as soon as possible so I'm writing right away. Write you again in a couple of days to answer your letter.

Your loving cousin,
Mickey

Post #422 - July 25, 1944 It Seems My Fears are Correct—Ed is in Combat and I’m Positive Has or Will See Action and It Is Always Cool Here, a Fresh Breeze Blowing 24 Hours of the Day

 

July 25, 1944 

Darling Hubby, 

It’s so darn hot that I decided I was going to have some air, hence the pen.

I had three letters today: one from you (July 20 - with snap enclosed) one from Sy and one from Ed (Thank God!) dated July 14. It seems my fears are correct—he is in combat and l'm positive has or will see action. Please write to him often, honey, cause he's always asking about you. My Mom and Pop are worried sick and l'm almost glad that my Mom has Adele to keep her going all day long. I hope and pray that everything will be okay with him! I shall be uneasy now til I know the war is over—especially where he is concerned. He's so young! He asked me write often and l shall make every effort to do so. I'm going to write to him and Sy when I finish this.

Mom is still at Browns Mills. It's a little hard on Goldie now that she has the cooking to do. However she does very little of it. Yesterday they ate at the Asia, taking Diana with them, carriage and all. Goldie and work just don’t mix—she can’t take it at all. She has more pep than I do, but no stamina or spirit. I’m not strong but my spirit makes me strong. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to come through all I had to go through. l’ve been eating at my mom's all week to save me the trouble of preparing my own dinner. Phil, if ever I appreciated my family, it’s now. There isn’t a thing they haven’t done for me to make my life a bit easier.

Sy writes that he saw restricted movies and “that we are losing more than people realize.” He said this was supposed to be a secret. He also said that he is “homesick as hell” and also wants me to write often. What I should do is stop working as a secretary and hire one to help me out.

I was most anxious to see a snap of you, sweet, and this one came just as I had finished commenting on my desire for one. I think you look swell, honey, especially cause you look thinner. I got so terribly heartsick looking at the likeness of you that I simply felt like lying down and dyin’. Phil, I miss you more than ever before and l'm so terrible anxious to see you——

Sorry you didn’t care for “Cover Girl”— I didn’t think it was marvelous—l just enjoyed it—after all I don't see that many movies to judge by your standards:

I can't find Syd's address at the moment—will send it along in a later letter. I have to write to him, too. We also had a v-mail from Max Brown.

Room to say “I adore you, angel mine (sigh——

Your Eve

25 July 1944 

Ev, dearest,

At last—some “real" mail! This afternoon I received your letters of 7 and 12 July (both containing snaps of the punkin), your V-mail of the 18th and another midget edition of the Bulletin of 3rd July from Dot.

The pictures of our young lady were very nice, and most welcome. I note, especially, that the two taken in June with Ricky show her much heavier than the other two taken on 2 July. As a matter of fact, the two sets could very well be of two separate and distinct little girls. I particularly liked the way she looked in the unsmiling pose of the latter set. It is surprising that she is taller and heavier than Ricky. This proves that she is growing at a remarkable rate. I think, perhaps, that is why her legs and feet aren’t as straight as they should be. The pictures taken in June aren't too good. They show her sullen, and pre-occupied in what you are saying to her. Those taken by Petey, however, are very good. What was it that amused her so in one of them? Ricky appears a stout little lad but what happened to his resemblance for Tony? He is a good looking kid, and has changed much since I saw him last. By the way, Chippie, iI think the punkin's features are changing, too. She looks different, somehow, in her latest pictures, and her resemblance to me is hard to see here. I note, too, Sweet, that you get part of yourself into one of the pictures. I wish you'd be a little more considerate of my feelings, when you so unthinkingly tease me with a half-glimpse of yourself. The “soldier-suit" still seems to fit you, darling. I remember that it was very tight on you when I left. Does that mean you are losing weight, or that you "let it out"? You're neglecting to tell me what you are wearing these days. You promised to—you know.

Glad to learn that you finally managed to get those shoes for Adele, and I’m equally glad that you are being more generous to yourself—as witness your paying eight bucks for a pair of oxfords. Somehow, eight bucks doesn’t loom as large in my calculations as it used to in those days when I was shopping with you.

Can’t understand why I haven’t heard from Mike. 

Wish you could spend the summer with me here in England, Baby. It is always cool here, a fresh breeze blowing 24 hours of the day. The only disadvantage I have found in the English weather is that it is so changeable. One moment, there isn't a cloud in the sky, and in the next, rain is falling from a sky darkened by dark rain clouds. But we haven't had to put up with even ordinary summer heat, let alone the hot spell you tell me about in yours of the 7th.

About mailing chocolates during the hot weather, suit yourself, honey, but it's still the only thing you can send me that I can’t get in sufficient quantity over here. Of course, Chiclets, gum and Life Savers are always welcome.

Forgot to say that Ruthie's letter of 9 July also reached me today. She seems to be having a nice vacation. I must get off a letter to her soon, ’cause I haven't answered her last three. 

Your V-mail of the 18th advised me that Mom has gone to Brown's Mills “for a while". That is all very nice, but who prepares the meals now? Surely Goldie doesn’t have the time with Diana Jean to take care of, and it goes without saying that you have your hands full between your job and the punkin. Who then? Not Harry, I'm sure. Are you all eating out while Mom’s away? It's all very puzzling, and I’d like to know what arrangements were made. Frankly, I don't see how Mom could possibly get away. I'll be expecting to hear about it, Baby.

There really isn’t anything to report from this end, Chippie,—things go on just as usual, I divide the day between the Orderly Room, my bunk, the Aero club, and the movies. It is just "date time,” my darling, and it's good to know that just as I long to hold you in my arms, to kiss the sweet pulse in your throat—you are thinking of your husband and lover, the guy who is so proud to refer to himself as

Your Phil

Love to all, especially my punkin.

Post #421 - July 24, 1944 We Haven’t Had Mail from Eddie for Several Weeks and I Have a Funny Fear About Him and They Have Installed a Real Honest-to-God Soda-Fountain in the Snack Bar, and I Got Homesick Just Looking at It

  

July 24th, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Today, after four mailless days, I received your "longies" of July 15 and 16, both of which I enjoyed no end. (Pardon me, 16 and 17). Oh yes, sweet, I forgot to tell you that I acquired an entire box of 5th Avenue bars, which will go into the mails some time this week. You are right, sweet, it is Kennett (two "t's") Square instead of Kenneth Square. I argued with the bookkeeper about it and then let it go at that. I often sent mail to Kennett Square for Miss Hahn and thought perhaps it was another town. Our bookkeeper reminds me of you in many ways. He's forever looking things up and is a very intelligent fellow. For instance, when I asked him how to spell ouija board (I just couldn't think of how the letters went) he looked it all up and gave me a full explanation of the whole thing.

As for you working for Mr. B - I don't think - I’d like it under present conditions. I'm not very crazy about Mr. B as far as people go and I'm sure you wouldn't care to work for him. Then again - you might. I'm extremely doubtful, though, cause his ideas and yours just wouldn't mix nohow. I estimate he does anywhere from $5000 to $10,000 per week of business. Of course this isn't profit - I don't know exactly how much of it would be profit, though I do imagine he clears about $500 for himself. He pays George $100.0 (just a hundred, dear). My father does a variety of things - he sells most of the time, keep the counters orderly by dusting and fixing them, helps in the shipping room at times, puts up displays and takes them apart, arranges the windows, etc. Everyone considered a salesman does the same thing. It's an easy enough job, except when it comes to handling a heavy shipment. And that completes most everything there is to comment about in your letters.

Phil, we haven't had mail from Eddie for several weeks and I have a funny fear about him. Oh how I wish we would hear from the kid! Yesterday evening I learned that the boy across the street, who was listed as missing was killed. I was passing the house and saw quite a few people there and lots or flowers. I called Jeannette (Emma's girlfriend) and asked her how she was. She said, "Not so good and then blurted out with tears that her brother was reported killed - and I guess that's war, Ev". He was married a year in April and his mother is a widow having lost her husband just recently. Need I tell you how I felt! And knowing that Eddie is there only heightens my feelings! Life is so terribly bitter at times! It’s a pity for her, for her life was wrapped about her son and his future.

Cookie was supposed to get married this coming Wednesday (formal wedding) as Morty is getting his first furlough. However, his furlough was postponed til next week, so I guess the wedding'll have to wait til next week, Uncle Sam didn't get a thing out of that patent he thought of - just a prize. That's the Navy yard for you.

Etta called this evening and I finally learned that Phil is at Tacoma, Wash. in the medical corps. getting basic training. Etta and Nat just dropped in to see us. Etta is carrying very largely going into her seventh month next week. They said they expected to see you any day now, what with all the big commentators saying the war will definitely be over in from two to six weeks. I can't believe it - really –

And now, baby, comes the time to sign off, much as I hate to. I love you so much, darling, and want to be with you more than I could ever say. This was just a regular routine day for

Your Eve

24 July 1944 

Sweetheart,

Just got back from the theater, where I saw "Lady in the Dark". It is a very beautiful picture, splendid in its richness of color and design. The story is intriguing, well-paced and as modern as the accoutrements in the psycho-analysts office. Ginger Rogers is as cold and hot as she chooses to be, as plain or beautiful as she is supposed to be to meet the demands of the plot, and is downright alluring when she has to be (in the "Jenny” number). Altogether, a remarkable performance, and one she may will be proud of. Try to see it, Sweet, I know you will love it. The supporting cast is just that, but Ray Milland, Warner Baxter and Jon Hall all turn up with convincing performances.

Otherwise, it has been a very dull day—as dull as the leaden skies that have been brooding over our heads these past few days. As you know, Sweet, I was “on pass” today. So I slept until 11 o'clock, when I got up, dressed, and went to lunch. After lunch I loafed some more. When I relax I really do it up brown! The afternoon brought no mail, and I was greatly let-down, ’cause I was sure there would be some after the driblets that have come thru the past week.

After the show, which I attended with Red, by the way, I went to the Snack Bar for a coke and a couple of sandwiches while he went back to barracks to get cleaned up. They have installed a real honest-to-God soda-fountain in the Snack Bar, and I got homesick just looking at it. Today, they served only cokes over the fountain, but maybe they’ll get around to malteds and ice-cream eventually. I ran into the ubiquitous (there's that word again) Klein there, and after finishing our cokes and sandwiches, we adjourned to the lounge. We stayed just long enough to hear the news at 9 o'clock, then we come back to the area. Which again brings me up-to-date, Baby, I'm feeling very blue and lonely tonight, so lest I spill tears, all over this nice paper, I'll sign off now with all my love to you, Evvie mine. Love to all from 

Your Phil

Post #420 - July 23, 1944 The Ouija Board Said the War Will Be Over in July ’45 and Seems the Germans are in a Bit of a Fuss After the Attempt on Hitler’s Miserable Life

 

July 23, 1944

Dearest Darling,

Tonight, for a change, I have too much to say. Before I begin, let me say, however, that I did not write yesterday, and you will learn the whys and wherefores in good time.

Yesterday morning I cleaned the house, went to Broad St. with Adele to shop and then put her up to nap. During that time I completed all my work and decided to go to Dot's, as I had mentioned in my previous letter.

When Adele arose I dressed her in her yellow pinafore and accessories and dressed myself in that pretty print dress Sarah gave me last year and departed at app. 3:30. I called Dot when I left the house and she promised to meet me at 60th & Market with the stroller, so I wouldn't have to carry Adele from the El to her house. Adele and I had to wait about 10 minutes for the 10th & Sommervile bus. She was a lovely little lady throughout the entire trip of bus, subway and el. It was the first time for her on both subway and el and as I walked down the steps to the subway I detected fright on her face. As we approached the trains she hugged me real tight and yelled "mommy". I assured her and after a while she was okay. I made her watch the doors open and close and this kept her busy for a few seconds. I got out to Dot's after four yesterday and didn't get back til about 15 minutes ago. Yes, dear, I slept over with the baby, cause Dot has all the conveniences necessary and I had a wonderful time. Dot wouldn't let me do a thing and it was just like a real vacation. Besides Adele was extra special good, making me feel just grand. Shortly after arriving both Dot and I fed the kids and had dinner ourselves. The kids played nicely til bedtime. Harold is a handsome boy and much faster at everything than Adele. He goes up and down a flight of steps by himself and says many more things than Adele. He tried to beat her up several times and for a change, she ran to me. I simply told her to give him a licking and she promptly wacked his rear.

Dot’s grandmother and grandfather have an apartment across the street. They are away for the summer and Dot set up her extra crib in the apartment. That is where Adele and I slept, Dot slept with me, just so I wouldn't feel strange. Snuff went off to the movies and we two talked a lot and I talked about many things. She told me many things about herself and Snuff that I found very surprising. For instance, and this is strictly between you and me, she said that she has never derived any satisfaction from their sexual relations. She keeps trying to convince me that I must have another baby and wound up by saying the following: That she, too, doesn't really want to have another baby, but that she does not believe in raising an only child and wants another child for that reason alone. Personally, I think she would prefer to have a little girl. I told her that I hope to have a baby someday when things were as I want them to be. She said she is perfectly satisfied with Snuff's income of $80, just as long as they don't have to skimp. Phil, both Dot and Snuff are fed up to the ears with conditions in the house and I can assure you they are most disgusting. It's almost impossible to describe what it's like trying to raise a child with umpteen people advising and prescribing and ordering you what to do for it. Snuff is so disgusted that he hopes and prays he'll be drafted to put an end to his misery. Dot told me quite a bit about the family (that, too, is most disgusting) and Snuff told me that when this mess is over if they have to live in a single room with a Murphy bed he'll give up every luxury to have it. Snuff's folks paid them off for their interest in the house, some $500 and still owes them about $200 for house furnishings, etc. Dot also told me that they have $1000 in bonds, plus this and money in the bank to get off to a fresh start. I'm sure they'll get off to a good start once they are out of that house. I don't have to tell you what the house is like. We talked on and on and one o'clock came. Dot drifted off, but I simply could not fall asleep. The roar of the trolleys along 60th St. annoyed me to death and I sat up in bed for a good two hours before sleep overtook me.

When I first readied Adele for bed she realized that it wasn't "home" and cried "mommy, home"! She slept like a little top during the night and the next afternoon.

This morning I put both kids in Dot’s stroller and took a walk with them. It was very warm all day long and I soon tired of walking. We let them play on the porch til 11:30 whereupon we took them up, bathed and readied them for bed and brought them down for lunch. After lunch and a short rest they went off to bed.

I rested during this time, taking a short nap myself. I dressed, made-up and read the Sunday paper. Adele awoke about 2:45 and we took Dot's father's car. (Snuff, Dot, Hal, Adele and myself) and rode over to see Dot's sister Freda, who bought one of those new homes in S. W. Philly. Freda's baby was born five days before Adele. Freda tripped while holding her a few weeks ago and the baby suffered a fractured leg. Her leg is in a cast and will be for three more weeks. She said the kid has been a wonderful patient.

Back again to Dot's house where we fed the kids and had dinner. Dot even polished Adele's nails for her first manicure! I left shortly after dinner.

I didn't do much under the heading of excitement but I enjoyed myself immensely. Just the opportunity to rest and forget about the house was enough to make me feel good. I could have written last night, but after Dot and got started talking we just seemed to a forget about time. I certainly hope to see her more often in the future! She and I are very much alike, in more ways than you can believe.

You know, sweetheart, I've talked to many girls about their sex life and invariably most of the girls have not been properly satisfied. I'm always proud and glad to say that my sex life was as perfect as I could have wanted it and that I had been satisfied to the utmost. Phil, just talking to people in that vein has taught me how really unusual our love is. What surprised me even more was this: Dot says she could never be like me in that I want to be like you. She believes in individuality and wants to keep hers, regardless of what Snuff's is. She said she had to hand it to me for being the way I am.

We talked of many, many things and I could never put all of them down on paper. Someday we'll get to talk about everything, baby, and from the looks of the news it should be soon. Oh, incidentally, I asked the ouija board (Dot has one - the first one I ever saw) and I asked it when you would come home. I was disappointed in the answer, which was Nov. 14, 1945. I'm still hoping you'll be right and that I will see you in ’44. It said the war will be over in July ’45

And now, dearest, I have several small things to do before I can hit the hay. Tomorrow is a working day and I must be prepared for it. I love you so much, dearest one, and hope and pray that you will soon be with

Your loving
Eve

23 July 1944 

My Darling,

Finally received a letter from you. It was your V-mail of 10 July. You wrote it out in longhand because you “thought (you’d) get some air” that evening—remember? 

I learned for the first time that Eddie is in France. I rather thought that such was the case, but your letter was the first confirmation I had of it. The letters he said he sent me were never answered because I never received them. However, I'll drop him a few lines tomorrow at his old address, and trust to luck that he'll receive them. Remember, sweet, there is no point in worrying prematurely. Just have faith that he will come thru O.K. 

Nothing much doing around the Orderly Room today, so I asked Sgt. Murphy if I could have my 24 hours off starting this afternoon. He said it would be O.K. I took in the matinee at the theater. The picture was "In Our Time", and I enjoyed it as much as you did, Sweet. Later in the evening, I walked down to the Snack Bar with Klein, had a bite to eat and loafed around the lounge reading every paper I could get my hands on. Seems the germans are in a bit of a fuss after the attempt on hitler's miserable life. The latest developments over there may portend an imminent crack-up—at least I'm certainly hoping so.

They had an entertainer in the Snack Bar, which is a large place with a platform at one end. There is a piano there, and the G.I.s, some of whom play pretty well, are always fooling around with it. Last night, though, a gal connected with the Red Cross came up from London to play for us. She is a very personable miss (I should have said Mrs., ’cause she is married to an American officer), and played the piano to the utter edification of most of the assembled G.I.s there. Blues, Jive, Boogie-Woogie, Sweet-Stuff—she was adept at each and every one, and she played like she felt it (know what I mean?) I enjoyed it thoroughly, and Klein couldn’t tear me away, although he tried three times during the course of the 2-1/2 hours she played. Oh yes, two of the guys from the base helped out on the trombone and drums. It was strictly a jam session, and a lotta fun.

I am thinking of a particular easy chair at this moment, darling, and of a certain sweet someone sitting in my lap, her head on my shoulder the scent and feel of her intoxicating my senses, and filling me plumb full of sugar candy, I love you so much, Baby mine! My love to my littler baby and all, from

Your adoring Phil

7-23-44

Dear Evelyn:

Sure was sorry I could not have answered you any sooner but a lot has happened since I wrote you last. We took another boat right and it sure was hell. Worse than we had coming over. I sure have a bunch of letters to write now. I am feeling fine and hope this letter finds you all the same. How is Goldie getting along. At the present time we are right up on the front lines, and it sure is hell here. They talk about Italy being muddy. Well you should see this place. It is that sticky, smelly swamp mud. It practically rains here all the time. I have been out on three patrols so far, looking for those lousy Japs and you sure are all in after you come in. It’s no sin to admit your scared around here for we all are, especially at night. We take turns standing guard at night, and you don’t know when they will try to sneak up on you. They tried it the other night, and we gave them a good reception. Give my regards to all. Try to write you again soon.

Sincerely,

Milt

Post #419 - July 22, 1944 I Had Intended to Go Into Town This Evening With Klein, But the Lunk-Head Got Himself Grounded for Speeding

 

22 July 1944

Dearest Chippie,

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 

your ever-lovin’
Phil

Post #418 - July 20, 21, 1944 The News is Wonderful, Especially About the German Army Rebelling and I Consider Rita Hayworth Neither Beautiful Nor Charming

 

July 21, 1944

Dearest Phil,

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.

Affectionately yours,

Dot