Aug. 1, 1944
Darling Phil,
Well, sweet, here is August again. It's just one single year since that bright, sunny Sunday morn I met you at the Logan station with Adele. I wonder how much longer it will be - -
Today was a hectic one for Philadelphians. The PTC went on a city wide strike (protesting the employing of negro workers) that paralyzed the whole city! The subway and el ran til about 12. I was lucky enough to get to 8th & Market (the last el pulled out as I got there) and then I had to walk to 2nd St., which wasn't too bad. Coming home with Mr. Perry was a revelation - the city was simply over-flooded with cars and traffic was terribly snarled. I hate to think what it will be like when the war is over and everyone starts buying cars.
You know, dear, this sort of thing can lead to race riots, etc. cause many, many people are burning already. The negros, like the Jews, want to have their rights, so I can't rightly blame them. The nurse that comes for Goldie burned like anything. She's a regular Father Divine follower and never says good-bye. She says "Peace" instead. Someone told me that Father Divine is a Nazi, but I haven't read enough about him to make a definite decision,
Let's talk about nicer things - for instance, dear, I received your very nice letter of 25 July. I'm happy that you finally received some “real" mail and that you did like the snaps. No, dear, Adele's features aren't changing, in fact she looks more like you every day - even I can see it now. My soldier suit is very snug and is serving its last season, I assure you. In fact my whole summer wardrobe is in its last season. I need a complete new wardrobe of dresses, both summer and winter and I've simply put it off, hoping you could select them when I did buy. Here's hopin'!
No, $8 isn't a lot for a pair of shoes, especially when you consider that everything is just about double and sometimes more. I sure do wish I could spend the summer with you in England, cause I'm sick and disgusted with this darn heat - all you do is sweat, sweat and then sweat some more. I shall use my judgment about the chocolates, honey, and as you know, I just mailed off a box of 5th Avenues.
I think I explained a bit about Mom's going to Browns Mills and I'd rather prefer not to go into detail cause I'm afraid I would say things I don't care to say at the moment. At any rate, that seems to be straightened out and Mom will remain home until such time as she can find it convenient to leave again.
I'm sorry about my negligence in advising you of my apparel each day, but I wear the same cotton dresses over and over again, week in and week out, first that yellow piqué I told you about (I'm wearing it today), that green check print Ruth gave me and a red check gingham, fly-front sports dress Ruth also gave me. If it isn't one of those it's a skirt and blouse. And when I'm home it's indubitably a pinafore—so there now.
Adele calls her rear a "tou see" and calls everyone she sees by name, For instance, she calls each and every kid in the neighborhood by name, such as Howard, Marsa (for Martha) Ellen, Estelle and she has even learned to call Diana "dee annie", which should prove to you that she is making oodles of progress. And, dear, her two bottom teeth came through, leaving her just the top two to finish her set. She now has 14 in all. I certainly hope I won't have to go through a similar night like Sunday with the next two teeth. Adele even somersaults herself! She gets even sweeter with her new actions and speech and I long to have you see her more and more. She even shows us what she's going to do to you! She's going to give you the hardest, biggest squeeze you ever got and a great big kiss to boot. Now ain't that sumpin'.
I typed the enclosed letter at work yesterday and never did get around to mailing it, feeling too tired to do anything but go straight to bed last night, Adele tore the top, so here's what's left.
Due to the strike business was at a standstill, so we took advantage of the break and changed the office completely. My desk is now where the bookkeeper's was, and he's where I was. The new arrangement is much better for all of us. Everything in the office was changed, so that it would be used to the best advantage. You should have seen Market St.! It was deader than a doornail.
Well, sweet, it is after ten and I am anxious to get to bed. If only it weren't so darn hot! Sleep is almost an impossibility these days - you're usually too busy perspiring to get any sleep.
I feel better about Eddie since the good news of the break through at Normandy occurred. Sure do hope you're right about making it home for Adele's second birthday! However, I'm sticking to my original statement that I won't see you in ’44. It may be one day, even the first day, but it will be ’45.
Our checks didn't come today and will no doubt show up tomorrow. And now that I've managed to fill up the second page too, I'll take my leave. Not before saying once again that you're so sweet my dearest, and I love you so very much. Phil, we’ll be starting our lives anew when we are once reunited and it's going to be fun learning to undress before one another and learning to make love anew. Gosh, it even sounds funny talking about it! I'm so used to "girls" if’n you know what I mean (and I'll bet you do!). Like Adele says "O o o o o h Boy!". Mind very much if I give you a nice, long kiss, huh -
Your Eve
1 August 1944
Dearest Darling,
All day yesterday, and far into the evening, I was very busy. In fact, when I had got some semblance of order out of the maze of war bond orders, allotments, soldiers' deposits etc., I was so weary, that I hardly entertained the thought of writing. You see, Sweet, we are in the throes of a war-bond-selling campaign, and yesterday was pay-day, and one must strike while the opportunity affords—see what I mean? Anyway, the task of collecting money, making change, noting beneficiaries or co-owners' names, addresses, and so forth, is no easy one.
Today, I was even busier, 'cause, in addition to picking up a few more sales, and collecting money for soldiers’ deposits, I also had to start gathering the data for the company history, which is due at HQ tomorrow, but which they can't possibly get 'til the next day, so, I’ve hardly had a chance to draw a long breath yesterday and today. I've already postponed my pass for two weeks, and I had planned to take it tomorrow, but now, there is so much paper work to be got out, that I'll be well satisfied if I can clear it up this week. It is three weeks or more since I've as much as left the station even for an evening in town. Now it looks like I won't be able to get away yet for another week. The station itself is all very nice, even restful, most of the time, but need I change of scene badly; even a few hours in town would be enough. I know when I need this “change,” because I find myself feeling low and dispirited at too frequent intervals. Oh well—I hope I can manage to get away before I must get busy on the payroll again.
Today, I was even busier, 'cause, in addition to picking up a few more sales, and collecting money for soldiers’ deposits, I also had to start gathering the data for the company history, which is due at HQ tomorrow, but which they can't possibly get 'til the next day, so, I’ve hardly had a chance to draw a long breath yesterday and today. I've already postponed my pass for two weeks, and I had planned to take it tomorrow, but now, there is so much paper work to be got out, that I'll be well satisfied if I can clear it up this week. It is three weeks or more since I've as much as left the station even for an evening in town. Now it looks like I won't be able to get away yet for another week. The station itself is all very nice, even restful, most of the time, but need I change of scene badly; even a few hours in town would be enough. I know when I need this “change,” because I find myself feeling low and dispirited at too frequent intervals. Oh well—I hope I can manage to get away before I must get busy on the payroll again.
I want to tell you about this bond drive, Sweet, 'cause I must ask a favor of you in that connection. The VIIIth Air Force, at the behest of our commanding General (Doolittle) is going to try to raise six million dollars to purchase enough planes of all types to make up what will be known as the “Victory Squadron.” Each unit has its quota to fill (ours is $1821.00), and each command is offering prizes to be drawn by lottery. The main prize is a five-minute call via transatlantic phone to anyone back home (and how I'd like to be the lucky winner!), Chances in the lottery are to be awarded on the basis of the amount of bonds bought. The more a fellow invests, the more chances he gets—catch on? Well, Chippie, I did pretty well the first day of the drive (yesterday, getting rid of $985.00 worth. I added another 205.00 today. But not one penny of that total was mine. As you know, if already have an allotment for a bond each month, and each pay-day I am left with about 28.00 to see me thru the following month, which precludes any bond buying on my part. Still, I would like to make a personal contribution in this very worthy endeavor, and that is why I am asking you to help me do so. The drive ends on 2 Sept. I was wondering if you wouldn't withdraw 75.00 of our cash savings, forward a money order to me in that amount, thus enabling me to acquire a $100 bond, which, of course, will eventually (within six weeks) find it's way back to you. I would greatly appreciate this favor, Baby, and though the greater part of our savings is already in war bonds, I know you won't begrudge converting another $75.00. You must lose no time, Sweet, 'cause the mails are still unpredictable. By a strange coincidence (speaking of bonds and the foibles of the mail system), your letter of June 29 arrived today. Among other bits of information, you tell about the bond-rally held in honor of Mayer Taylor, and the fact that your boss, Mr. Bellet, bought the first bond for $10,000. This made me wonder if Mr. Bellet would care to have a share in the “Victory Squadron.” I'd like to sell him a bond, even if it's only a $25 one. For that matter, Baby, you might explain the situation to some of our friends, and ask them if they would care to "buy in.” I think Mom, Harry and Goldie, and your folks, at least, could help me out on this. You see, Honey, all the bonds we of the company sell will swell our total. I'm most anxious to make a good showing, cause I am more or less personally responsible for the success or failure of the drive in our unit. A money order in the correct amount will do in every case, and we have been told that the bonds will be delivered to the owner within six weeks of purchase at this end. If you do send any such money orders along, Chippie, they must be made out to me, personally. Enclosed with each must be the following designations: Owner (of bond); Co-owners, and beneficiary, and their addresses. This information, of course, on a separate slip of paper. Finally, I must receive them before 2 Sept., so you have no time to waste. Will you try, Chippie?
After four mail-less days, I finally received your letter of 29 June, Lady, I was fit to be tied—no kiddin! I don't mind too much when I don't receive any mail for a few days (it's happened too often before), but when the APO rubs it in by sending along a letter that was mailed 32 days ago, that is too much. I couldn't be angrier if they laughed in my face. But then, I guess any mail is better than no mail, and we should thank God for any blessing (even such a one.)
That 3-day trip that you inquire about, that I was supposed to make with Lt. Toms, fell thru, dammit! Guess I’ll never get to see Stratford-on-Avon, after all.
Your letter was a nice long one, Sweet, but most of the news is stale, and therefore doesn't inspire comment. But your closing paragraph is very sweet. You say "Gosh, how I wish we could climb the stairs hand-in-hand and go to bed together once more."—To which can only say Amen!
It is getting late, my darling, and I am tired and sleepy, so let's go to bed—shall we? Good-night, my lovely—I love you so very much! My love to the punkin-—and all.
Your loving
After four mail-less days, I finally received your letter of 29 June, Lady, I was fit to be tied—no kiddin! I don't mind too much when I don't receive any mail for a few days (it's happened too often before), but when the APO rubs it in by sending along a letter that was mailed 32 days ago, that is too much. I couldn't be angrier if they laughed in my face. But then, I guess any mail is better than no mail, and we should thank God for any blessing (even such a one.)
That 3-day trip that you inquire about, that I was supposed to make with Lt. Toms, fell thru, dammit! Guess I’ll never get to see Stratford-on-Avon, after all.
Your letter was a nice long one, Sweet, but most of the news is stale, and therefore doesn't inspire comment. But your closing paragraph is very sweet. You say "Gosh, how I wish we could climb the stairs hand-in-hand and go to bed together once more."—To which can only say Amen!
It is getting late, my darling, and I am tired and sleepy, so let's go to bed—shall we? Good-night, my lovely—I love you so very much! My love to the punkin-—and all.
Your loving
Phil
P.S. I had meant to write each of our friends and the family individually on the bond question, but unfortunately l am very, very busy (and will be all next week—as I've explained), and if I wait until I do have the time, it will be too late to meet the deadline. I'll appreciate anything you can do in my place, Ev honey. Did I already say I love you? Lady—you'll never really understand how much!
August, 1, 1944
Dear Evelyn:
This prompt reply will no doubt surprise you. Usually one doesn’t procrastinate so much as this individual. For some time now I had been planning things so that we could have gotten together for an evening, intending to let you know etc. During that time, many things have happened. Frances ill, my hours changed, then additional hours which kept me rather incarcerated and limited to all things. However, times have changed (except for my longer working hours which I do not mind) and Frances and myself are looking forward to our seeing you once again. Should you be able to break away from the normal working problems of a mother, and can spend an evening with us, we would be most glad to talk about your hubby and daughter.
We would like for you to arrange an evening so that you may have dinner with us. If it is at all possible, by all means, bring your daughter. You just arrange to your own convenience, the evening, time and anything you especially like in vitals. If a Sunday afternoon strikes your fancy, then ok. Course, that is subject to change since my working weekends are not known till Friday ’fore. I have a motion picture camera which I know will take lovely pictures of your daughter.
If the above sounds satisfactory, then go ahead with your planning. I hope it does. Our phone number is Baring 1636. You can call us most any time. More to be said later. Your hubby is still well, I hope—Hello to the folks for me—
Sincerely,
Mike
