Post #441 - August 20, 1944 You Must Grant, Sweet, that Times and Ideas and Prejudices Have Changed

20 August 1944

My Darling,

After another busy day, and a couple hours at the "cinema", where I saw "Footlight Serenade” I am all set to answer yours of the 6th, 8th and 9th. The picture was a lively musical that would have been only fair entertainment if it were not for the presence of the scintillating Betty Grable. She sings, dances and mugs to please the most fastidious male. Just looking at those gams of hers made me intolerably homesick (do you follow me, Chippie?) - And now - to your letters:

Your V-mail of the 6th informed me that Petey has made more snapshots of Adele, that the lass is eating without assistance and is learning table manners - that your dad is painting the porch of 4920, and that you had difficulty sleeping for thoughts of “us". All very interesting, dearest - especially that last item. It made me wonder if you were remembering specific incidents having to do with "us", or whether it was just a general and vague picture in your mind. I'd very much like to know, Sweet, which incidents particularly stand out in your memory and what details contributed to making a lasting impression - and, if possible, why. Since my greatest ambition and joy in life is to please you, I think you will find it to your future advantage to enlighten me. (Remember honey, your letters aren't censored!) Some day I’ll tell you what I recalled when reviewing in my own mind the "adventures" of "us". More important, now that I think of it, is that you tell me what things in this connection displeased or annoyed you. I am just discerning enough to admit of the possibility that there were such that you may have kept to yourself for fear of wounding my sensibilities. Now, while I am far away from you is the time to air all your little grievances, and thus preclude their repetition. Because I am more than eager to remedy any deficiencies on my part in this respect, you must understand, darling, that I would welcome criticism. Can I count on you to be entirely frank and honest in your reply?

You also confess that you are growing more optimistic about seeing me soon. I’m not surprised, what with things going as they are—and all. God grant your grounds for optimism are justified, Ev, dearest.

The opening sentence of your letter of 8 Aug. tickled me. You admit that “although I had time to write last night, I was definitely not in the mood and decided to skip the one day". You don't understand why this should "tickle me? Well, Chippie, lend me an ear while I explain. In the first place, I much prefer an open, forthright reason such as the above to some lame, half-baked excuse for not writing. I can understand and forgive an indisposition for writing, but would not want you to cudgel your brains for an acceptable excuse when the plain fact is that you are “not in the mood". Secondly, (and this amused me) it was a sentence very like this one, that I once had the temerity to use, that aroused you to instant indignation. Your answer, in effect, was something like this: ("Suppose I didn’t write just because I wasn't in the mood? Many's the night I was just too tired—had to force myself, etc., etc.”) What? You still don't get the point? Oh well, I might have expected as much. I'm afraid the inconsistencies of your sex are funny only to the members of mine. O.K.-O.K.! You don't have to get mad about it.—I was merely pointing out—Oh, nuts! Let’s just skip the whole thing, shall we, dear?

Frankly, Sweet, I was amazed at your reaction to Jack's announcement of his virtual engagement. At most, I thought you might be disappointed in his choice of a girl not of his faith, but I certainly never expected that you'd be "terribly disgusted" with him for it. You play with the idea of writing to tell him "what I think". I earnestly hope, Baby, that you decided against it. Don't you see that you couldn't possibly alter the situation by anything you might say? On the other hand Jack, expecting nothing less than your felicitations, on receiving such a letter from you, would be very much hurt and would, justifiably, resent your presumption in deigning to judge him and to condemn his action. I pray you re-considered, Sweet. I won’t argue with you for your convictions on this score because, although I disagree most strongly, I respect your right to your own opinion. My view is that if they truly love each other, in spite of their differences in religion, then, to my way of thinking, they have every chance of happiness in each other. You must grant, Sweet, that times and ideas and prejudices have changed, and I maintain that in the free-thinking, liberal-thinking world of today a “mixed” marriage is no longer an insuperable obstacle to a happy union. In any case, where there is any room for doubt, I think you owe it to Jackie to give him the benefit of it. As for me, I'm all for him. If he really loves Marilyn as he claims—that is good enough for me, and I'm sending my blessing as soon as t can find the time.

In response to my recent remarks as to our “post war plans" you say only that "I think you'll find me most receptive to any ideas you may have.” That's all very nice, Baby, but don’t you have any ideas of your own?

I think you did the right thing in inviting Mike and Francis to visit you, rather than vice versa. Please ask Mike to forgive my tardiness in answering him, and explain that I have still to find a spare hour or two to write his letter.

Glad to hear that the PTC strike has finally been settled. I'm fed up with the rotten politics and intolerance of Philadelphia, and I’ll be very happy if we can find our livelihood someplace else. I'never could abide either of these, and especially not now! Some people and their prejudices make me sick, and the recent trouble in Philly reminded me how much I used to detest the officialdom there. Just looking at the City Hall and contemplating what went on inside used to be enough to fill me with anger and revulsion. If the majority of Philadelphians are content to keep on the same gang year after year, I certainly am not!

Glad you thought my “poem" of 30 July "clever,” Sweet. As long as I can keep on fooling you into thinking I’m a pretty bright guy, I don't care if everyone else thinks I’m anything but.—So much for your letter of the 8th.

The one of the 9th was particularly welcome because it contained the money orders. I'm sending in the forms today, Sweet, and again - thanks a million!

I can well imagine how happy Betty and her mother must be, now that their soldier is home from the wars after 26 months overseas. My heartiest congratulations to them all. 

You remembered to tell me that you were wearing your red and white print silk, and asked if I remembered it. What a question!?? Just to prove to you how well I remember it—that's the dress that you usually saved for special occasions—the one you invariably wore on our infrequent “dates,” and the one that was uncomfortable because the "blouse” top was too tight. I remember you used to sigh your relief on taking it off. Speaking of dresses, honey (and I could go on like this for hours) whatever became of that cute little “peasant" dress with the colorful skirt and gauzy blouse that you bought a few weeks before I left. I loved it on you, but have yet to hear that you wore it this past summer.

You concluded this particular letter ’cause you were "starved" and wanted to get at your supper. Your assertion that you'd “like nothing better than to eat you for dinner" made me wonder if you intended to dispose of me in one sitting (is that the wrong verb?), or whether you'd save perhaps a leg or an arm for a snack before retiring. But aren't you afraid, Sweet, that I’d give you a terrible case of indigestion? Which all inspires me to remark that:

No happier fate 

Can I review 

Than, my sweet,
To be “et” by you! 

or—

Of all delights 

From "A” to "Izzard"

I’d give up all

to grace your gizzard!

or— (but why go on—you get the idea.)

[This space reserved to say again—I adore you, my Evvie. I am 

Your Phil]

Post #440 - August 19, 1944 Dr. Lefkoe Claims Adele is a Trifle Knock-Kneed Due to the Chubbiness of Her Thighs and Your Prompt and Generous Response to My Appeal for Money to Convert into Bonds Warmed My Heart and A Dire Letter from Ed Paller

Aug. 19,1944

Darling Mine,

I didn't get an opportunity to mail my letter of Aug. 18 last night, so I'm sending the two in one envelope to save you some curious moments as concerns what Dr. Lefkoe had to say about Adele's feet.

He told me it's not at all serious, just "annoying". He claims she's a trifle knock-kneed due to the chubbiness of her thighs and that the muscles of her feet (near the ankles) are weak. He simply prescribed a special shoe, something that will, undoubtedly, give her more support. I have to go to the ration board to get a stamp before I can order the shoes and they are closed on Saturdays, so I'll have to wait til Mon., when I shall try to get the stamp. He told me to take her to the shoe store on Broad St. and I told him I disliked that place, as they were the ones who once misfited Adele. However, he assured me that some stores won't take his prescriptions, as he examines them before the child wears them, and they must be perfect. I think the shoes will run about $10, and I may have difficulty getting them. One woman, who was before me, told me that she waited three months. I hope my luck will be better.

As I said in yesterday's letter (about Jack's coming for the weekend) he called from New York to tell me that he wouldn't be here til today. It is a little before two and he still hasn't arrived.

He asked me to call the Zaslows and tell them that he wouldn't be in til today. I learned that is Hilda's Dave is stationed right here in Philly as a meat inspector in the army and that he is living at home, so both of them are with Lizzie. Is she happy!!

Snuffy finally got "took". He's in the Army and, at the moment, at New Cumberland. Dot says he has the funniest feeling that he will land in the Infantry. Like Dot says, "Well, it's all over."

The temperature today is 63, which is "sumpin". compared to over 90. It's a pleasure - god darn.

The Frommers returned from the shore last night. Mrs. Frommer bought a doll for Adele and a rattle for (got a little rattled myself) Diana, which she hasn't presented as yet, for they are in her trunk, which is yet to arrive. Both of them look grand, and, as usual, send their best regards.

Yesterday your letter of Aug. 13th came in the afternoon (with insignia enclosed). I’m crazy about it, sweet, and want to thank you for sending it. If you can get another I think Mom would like one - she too seemed to like it immensely. I particularly like the way the number "8" is shown off. By the way - where did you get it - or ain't I supposed to ask?

I kind of thought the Reeses and Woolfs were related. Sure is a small woild!

Adele slept straight through the night for the first time in weeks. Yet, I still couldn't fall asleep. I guess it's cause I'm "due" and a little late. Adele gave the Frommers a royal reception and a big hug and kiss. You'll get the same if'n you'd only hurry up and come home!

I want to dress now so that I'll look my best when Jack arrives. I'm going to wear that pleated print dress Sarah gave me. By the way, Adele now calls her "Sha rah". I adore you, angel mine and wish very much that you, too, could help me greet Jack. Maybe soon - huh -

Your Eve

19 August 1944

Sweetheart,

Yesterday, as I wrote you last, we had our company party. Things got rolling about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when the first two of four barrels of beer were tapped. It was a lovely afternoon and evening and most of the men were in their bathing trunks or underwear. So the beer started to flow, some of the fellows organized a game of volley-ball and every one proceeded to get “high" (which is giving almost everyone the benefit of the doubt). About 5 o'clock, the food was brought out. There were cold cuts of roast beef and pork salad, a paste of cheese mixed with catsup, fresh tomatoes and, of course, beer. Everything was really delicious, and, having whetted my appetite on a few pints of beer, I did full justice to two prodigious "Dagwood" sandwiches made up of all the aforementioned ingredients. Two more beers filled me right up to the ears. I couldn't drink another if my life depended on it. Besides, I was feeling pretty rosy by that time (two qts. is two qts., after all) and I hated to spoil the effect by getting actually drunk. So in a very mellow mood, I played a game of volley-ball, gabbed with the guys, and generally had a most enjoyable time of it, as did most of the fellows. There were the usual few who didn't know when they had enough, but these “retired" early.

Today was a gray day, and a very busy one for me. In the evening, it rained a little, after which the skies cleared, and the setting sun spread it's soft light over everything.

In the afternoon - mail! There were your V-mail of the 6th, and your letters of the 8th and 9th. One of the latter contained the money orders and Jack N.’s letter. There was also Dot's V-mail of the 7th telling me that Snuff was slated for induction on the 18th.

Chippie, your prompt and generous response to my appeal for money to convert into bonds warmed my heart. It was really swell of you to take the trouble, and I want you to know that I love you for the manner in which you responded. My humble thanks, too, to your Mom for her generous contribution to our "fund”. It makes me properly ashamed that my side of the family did not see fit to favor me likewise. I see no point in making an issue it, but you may be sure, Sweet, that their action in this case reflects no credit to them. I'm more disappointed in them than I'd care to have them know - and more than surprised, too. Anyway, I’m not one to dismiss lightly (nor easily to condone the refusal of it, either), so I'll charge you, darling, to convey my gratitude to your Mom. You may inform my Mom, Harry and Goldie, of my disappointment with them - or not; whichever you wish. I've already typed the necessary forms. Tomorrow will see the bonds on their way you and your mother. Delivery should be within six weeks.

Because it is almost 11 o'clock, dearest one, and the fellows are waiting for me to finish this and extinguish the lights, I must cut this short. I'll answer your letters tomorrow—sure. I adore you, Baby mine. Kiss Adele for me and Diana Jean. My love to all.

Gratefully, 

Your loving husband,
Phil 

P.S. Please explain to Dot that time doesn't permit me to write to her as often as I would like.

Aug. 18, 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your letter while I was in France and though my mind is not clear I write to you. I am in a hospital here in England. I haven’t written home for a while and I realize they shall be very worried.

Phil, I must see you as soon as possible. I cannot meet you so you must see to it that you see me. The directions which the Red Cross gave me here is to proceed to the Red Cross Club at Worcester and get directions to the 96th General Hospital. You must do your best to get here as soon as possible.

Everything is snafu so I guess you know how I feel. On the other hand I hope your (sic) fine. Till I hear or see from you.

Still Remaining
Eddie

Update: When I forwarded this post to my first cousin, Alan, who is Edward Paller’s son, he sent back an email with the following information:

It was the Battle of Saint Lo. My dad was in the hospital... July 1944.

From what my dad said, none of his battalion returned... all killed. 

Post #439 - August 18, 1944 The Name of the Town that You Had Struck Out with the Typewriter was Still Legible “Ipswich”

 

Aug. 18, 1944

Dearest One,

It's exactly 5 P. M. and I'm finished with all that I could possibly do today. I think this is a most appropriate time to write, since (and I hope so) you must be thinking of me as I write and wondering how long it will be that you'll be back in the good ole U.S., this being the day you landed in England, just one year ago. Gosh, honey, I'm all filled to overflowing with longing and desire and - -

I bought Lil a lovely pink tailored slip, which I shall give her for her birthday Aug. 20th. You might drop her a few lines to sort of congratulate her (don't, for Heaven's sake mention that I suggested it, will you).

I didn't write last night. Reason - when I got home from work I washed the floors and cleaned the living and dining rooms so that I'll be more or less free this weekend to entertain whatever guests we may have, to say nothing of taking a good rest.

The best news today, I think, is the fact that the hot spell, which had lasted 35 days (over 90) broke when it rained last night. It's warm today, but not quite as hot as it has been. Do you know, sweet, that I haven't had more than three hours a night rest for the past two weeks? Adele wakes many, many times during the night and I've marvelled many times at my ability to take it. I keep a jar of cool tea on the window sill for her to drink, cause she invariably requests a drink,

Tonight I am keeping my appointment with Dr. Lefkoe, as I told you in an earlier letter. I must say that Adele has been walking much, much better, so much so that I almost decided to call the visit to the doctor off. However (and to hell with the $5) I want an expert's opinion to satisfy "us" and that's exactly what we're going to get. Adele has gotten so tall that she must surely be over three foot now. Phil, she's got the sweetest little face you ever saw and somehow, I don't think her pictures (any of them) show her to advantage. She's cute about everything and she does and says so many things that it would take me a week to write each and every heart warming word and action.

She's an exceptionally affectionate person, (I say this after seeing many other children) and I'm positive that she'll know her daddy. For instance, she awoke last night and wanted to make sissy. Harry was in the bathroom and she didn't want to wait. (I'll bet you're wondering what this has to do with you - you'll find out). She called "Har wee" (she says it so nicely) as if to hurry him. I walked back into the room, which was pitch dark, and while we waited she pointed to your picture on the bureau (the one with me) and turned to me and said, "Mommy - Daddy".

As you also know I'm expecting Jack Nerenberg this evening, and, according to his card, received early this week, he should be here for the weekend (but you know Jack!). I'm kind of anxious to see him, especially now that I know he's in "love".

I received your letter of Aug. 11 yesterday, sweet, and know exactly where you are. The name of the town that you had struck out with the typewriter was still legible "Ipswich". I've tried to get pyrex bottles and some chocolate, but nothing doing. I stopped at the post office today to inquire if it was okay to ship the bottles (one druggist said no) and was advised in the affirmative. I'll keep trying to locate them, but if I shouldn't would you like me to get something else for the Woolfs?

Mr. Bellet complimented me on my lovely handwriting today (he ought to see my letters to you, huh?) as I wrote checks and am more or less keeping the books in order. Naturally, I take my time, and when I do, my handwriting is neat and, as he says, "lovely".

I haven't written for along time of my deep and ever present feelings for you, baby, and I would like to do so now. Rarely a day passes that I don't find myself in a deep reverie, dreaming of things we'll do together someday, of those happy delectable days we spent together during our courtship, our honeymoon, etc. I've been "dead" or just “existing” all this time and I don't like the feeling one little bit. Phil, I have high (too high, I think) hopes of seeing you in the very first months of '45, say Feb. or March, perhaps for our fourth anniversary. Hurry, hurry, hurry! I find myself getting impatient at times, but I've learned to curb that too. Let's just put it this way: I adore you, dear husband, and am most anxious to have you by my side, where you belong. Phil, darling - -

I am

your

Eve

Post #438 - August 17, 1944 You Say They Were to Play Some Works of “(My) Favorite Composer,” I Presume You Mean Tchaikovsky and A Letter from Harry Weinman

 

17 August 1944

Dearest Chippie,

Just finished a letter to Gloria, and now it's your turn. Last night, because there was no mail in the afternoon and I had nothing to write about, I decided to go to the dance. As per usual, the ubiquitous Klein was very much in evidence. He was in rare form, too, so I particularly enjoyed watching his dancing. I kept busy all day yesterday checking the Service records, reading up on the news, etc. Today, I completed the work on the Service Records, caught up on some more news, and generally put in a pretty full day. Tonight, I am CQ, which accounts for the fact that I had the time to get off Gloria's letter in addition to this one. Oh yes, received your letters of 4, 5 August this afternoon - and - I'm just about ready to answer them. Mike's letter to you including his invitation was enclosed. Hope you availed yourself of the invite, Baby. Sorry I haven't found the opportunity to answer him yet, but you can tell him he may expect a letter within the next few days.

Wish I could have been there to take you to the Dell to hear that concert your Mom and Dad enjoyed so much. I'm waiting for your letter of the 6th to tell me whether or not you were able to get to the Dell for that Horowitz-conducted program. You say they were to play some works of "(my) favorite composer". I presume you mean Tchaikovsky. That's one program I would have liked to hear, but I'll find some consolation in the knowledge that you heard it, darling - and I hope you did.

Sorry you have to give up the "soldier suit", Sweet, but don't cry, 'cause I'll buy you another one even nicer when I get home.

About Adele's birthday party that you were discussing with Mom, all I can say is - I hope I'll be there!

The buzz-bombs are plenty bad in London (Red, who just returned from there is telling me about it right now), but don't you worry your head, Baby, 'cause I have no intention whatever of going there. We are not bothered by them here.

The heat back there in Philly must be pretty fierce, but I'd trade it for the cool breezes of England in a minute if I could. I don't imagine it will stay hot much longer, though. September and the fall are only weeks away.

Those negligee sets you keep writing about (and teasing me with) must be as seductive as you no doubt hope, but as I've pointed out before, you looked ever so good to me no matter what your attire (or without any, for that matter). So I would say it's just another case of "gilding the lily.” However, if it pleases your girlish heart - why, get a half a dozen sets or so,

Your letter of the 5th was by way of being an anniversary letter. It marked a year since I last saw you. Fancy you remembering the picture we saw that last night! - And that other interesting?? item that I, myself, had completely forgotten. As for your "not doing me any good —" that's an out and out misconception on your part, Chippie. I don't remember the time you let me down in that respect.

By the way, today marks another anniversary for us. By "us", I mean the company. Today marks a full year we have been in the ETO. Tomorrow, the company is celebrating with a beer party. We are going to knock off work right after lunch, play some base-ball, volley-ball, etc. and drink beer in the evening. If the weather permits, it will be held out-doors in the company area. Tell you all about it tomorrow, Sweet.

Sold another $150.00 worth of bonds today to boost our total up to about 82% of quota. I'm waiting to see how you made out. I hope you at least sent off the money order I asked for. The base has already far exceeded its quota, which would make it look very bad, indeed, for our company if we couldn't even fill our share. Glad to learn that you are steadily increasing our holdings of war bonds, Sweet. That's a pretty hefty amount you quoted in this letter,

Sorry I must sign off now, honey, but it's getting very late, and I must get up at 4 o'clock to wake the cooks (can you picture it?). Here's a big hug and kiss for you, my lovely. Tell the punkin I'm just dying to hold her, and kiss her for me, (You never did tell me what it felt like - remember?) See if you can remember this time. Good-night, my darling. My love to all.

Devotedly,
Your Phil

August 17, 1944

Dear Phil:

I was sure glad to hear from you again. It was quite some time before I received your letter. I was sent to a rehabilitation camp from the hospital. I am here one month today. I will be here a few weeks more. I am about a 3-hour train ride from your place. I will hop over to see you the first 24-hour pass I can get from here. So try and give me a little more information how I can reach you. Does the Red Cross know where you are located if I asked them in case there is one in Colchester. I am feeling O.K. I hear from home occasionally. How are things with you? That’s about all the dope I have right now. Take it easy. Write.

Harry

Post #437 - August 15, 16, 1944 The News of the “Second Invasion” Came Over the Radio Today and Ace was Killed in the Normandy Battle

 

15 August 1944

Sweetheart,

After three mail-less days, your letters of 1, 2, 3 August arrived this afternoon. They proved a very welcome climax to a most satisfying day. My work is keeping me increasingly busy, the weather remains ideal, and the news from the war fronts gets more encouraging hourly. In that connection, I want to tell you about a surprisingly good guess I made. Lt. Toms and I were discussing the fighting on the various fronts. I hazarded the opinion that a landing on the French Riviera seemed a logical move. Sure enough, the news of the "Second Invasion" came over the radio today. Moreover, the landings were just where I thought they would be. So you see, Chippie, I'm not wrong all the time. I can't think of another single thing to tell you about myself, so I'll get on with the business of answering your letters,

Forgot to say that your letter of 31 July was enclosed with yours of the 1 August. That's the one the punkin tore the top off. You tell about Ruth coming home from the shore and bringing a big doll for Adele. It seems every time I get ready to send the punkin a doll through our Px, someone has beat me to it. Ordinarily, I wouldn't let this deter me, but the one I could send just wouldn't stand comparison with the big, beautiful dolls she already has, and I hate to think that my doll would be overlooked on that account. However, if you think she could appreciate the fact that it was her daddy's gift, I'll be delighted to send her one. There are three types to choose from. Two are the "pretty" types, and the third a rag doll, which I myself would choose to send her. Tell me what to do, Sweet, as I'm rather at a loss in the matter.

Hope you have a nice, restful time of it on your vacation, Sweet, and I'm wishing I could go along with you and Adele. Guess you'll be making preparations when you receive this. I know it's a selfish viewpoint, but I rather wish that you would spend the week at home rather than at the shore. You see, darling, I had rather counted on being around to give my daughter her first taste of the ocean. I've dreamed a little day-dream about it and naturally hate to be deprived of the privilege. But as I say, it's a purely selfish thought, and I wouldn't want it to influence you, If you do decide to go, I would like you to try to look up Jeanette. You'll probably find them in the phone book listed as Mr. Herman Asin. Their son must be quite a big boy by now and should be a fitting play-mate for the punkin. If you do contact them, give them my best.

Glad that Mom finally received my letter, but I don't remember saying anything that should have moved her to tears. Tell her she'll hear from me when I reply to her next letter, so if she wants a letter she'd better write.

Your letter of the 1st reminds me that it was just a year that since that " sunny Sunday morn I met you at the Logan station with Adele. I remember the circumstances, alright, but your memory for dates continues to astound me. Then you go on to talk about the PTC strike, and the difficulties you are encountering because of it. I've already given you my reaction to the regrettable news, so I won't enlarge on it here. Suffice it to say that it burns me up (but plenty!).

According to the funny-papers, the news that you require a "complete new wardrobe" should make me mad. Guess I'm a freak, 'cause I'm just tickled with the prospect of shopping with you for oodles and oodles of dresses and all the accompanying accoutrements, I'm counting on you, Baby, to save the bulk of your buying until that time.

Your information to the effect that Adele calls everyone by his first name makes me wonder if she knows her dad's name, "Da-dee Phil" on her lips would sound mighty sweet to me,

Your closing paragraph about "starting our lives anew. etc. is so intriguing. makes me wonder if she knows her dad's name, "Da-dee Phil" on her lips would sound mighty sweet to me,

Your closing paragraph about "starting our lives anew, etc.," is so intriguing, that I get all "goose-pimply just reflecting on the picture you draw. If you have an idea that you'll be shy all over again because you've become accustomed to "girls" (as you so quaintly put it, imagine how I'll react having had "boys" as my constant companions these many months. However, I don't really anticipate any real embarrassment for either of us on that score. It may interest you to know that I've definitely made up my mind to come home late at night in order to avoid any chance of embarrassing ourselves and everyone else by a sudden withdrawal to the bed-room. If you're surprised that I think along these lines, Sweet, allow me to inform you that it is just thoughts as these that keep me going. I think I'd trade my chances of heaven to have this particular dream come true. So, if one fine day you receive a letter from me requesting a key to 4906, you'll know the reason therefor. Said request will be a tip-off to you that my home-coming is imminent. God, make it soon!

In your letter of the 3rd, you remembered to tell me that you were wearing your "green-print dress” and ask if I remember it. Darling, I do better than that - I remember how you "felt" in it! I remember it because the feel of you under the silk of that particular dress was so tantalizingly delicious. It brings to mind, too, the pictures that Jack made of you in that lovely outfit. I remember that your big white straw hat set it all off beautifully. I remember all over again how much I loved my "Chippie" then, and how utterly I adore her now. God bless you, darling. My love to the lassie - and all.

Always, Your Phil

Aug. 16, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Just a few minutes left to get in a few words to make up a letter. I didn't write yesterday, as I was over-exhausted by late evening and hit the hay early. It was impossible to sleep. I'll bet our room reached a temperature of 97 or so.

I received your July bond on Monday and another v-mail from Milt Brown, a more gruesome one. Today I received your letter of Aug. 9. Whaddaya mean you wish I limited my speech to only seven words! Wouldn't you rather hear me than be in England? Or would you?

I have some good news and some bad. Ace was killed in the Normandy battle. Harry was out to West Philly yesterday, so that's how we know.

The good news is that Anne Nerenberg is pregnant again, being in her second month. We had a letter from Glo this morning and she hopes to be in Philly soon. Mom, Goldie and I got her several things for her birthday, which is Aug. 26th. (I think I told you about it in a previous letter).

I brought a new toy home for Adele. It's called Wobbly Duck and consists of an inclined piece of card board and a little duck that wobbles down the board. Cost 50¢.

I gave Snuffy $3 in cash, cause I couldn't think of what to buy him.

Back home, so l'm finishing this outside. I'm sending v-mails to Milt & Syd this evening and I think it's time you wrote to them too.

Syd’s address:

33,050,355

1060th Sig. Co. Ser.

323rd Ser. Center

APO 520, C/O P.M.

New York, NY

Milt’s address is on the v-mail I enclosed in yesterday’s (Mon.) letter.

We’re having continual temperatures of 95 and over and it's really terrific, honey. My legs have been aching terribly (perhaps it's cause I'm “due” again this weekend) and the heat does have a lot to do with it. I noticed that Goldie feels better in cooler weather, so l think the heat is mostly responsible for her ill feelings. She's okay and so is little Diana, who is getting cuter day by day. She does not have a tendency toward chubbiness as Adele did. 

I, too, hope the necessity of letters between us will cease shortly. It's time - after almost 2-1/2 yrs.—don't you think?

To say I love you at this moment is a gross understatement. Why baby, I’m just crazy about you! Wasn’t I always?

Your Eve

P.S. Adele, bless her little heart, is as smart as a whip—I just wish you could see her perform—I think see her would be sufficient! Mom went out to Pauline’s today as she is having a sendoff party for the newlyweds. Cookie is going back to Missouri with Mort.

Post #436 - August 13, 1944 Milt Brown has Killed Two Japs. He’s Really Having a Tough Time of It! and A “Club-Sandwich” is Unknown Over Here

 

Aug. 13, 1944 

My sweet,

I skipped writing last night, due mostly to the extremely warm weather we are having again. Phil, if you remember, I never really perspired so much that I was wet. Well, this year I perspire as freely as you do - and then some - so that ought to give you an idea of how hot it is. This has really been a mean summer.

Mom went to Cookie & Morty's wedding last night and had a very nice time. Bob and Lena picked her up. Emma stopped here and brought Diana a pair of overalls and a jersey and a little yellow chenille dolly with red hair for Adele. It's a little doll and just the right size for Adele. However, most of the red hair is missing today.

I worked for Miss Hahn for four hours yesterday and brought home 80 postcards to type up at home, which has been keeping me very busy, plus washing, cleaning, etc.

I received the enclosed card from Jack N. (on second thought I'm not going to enclose it). It just says that he will be here to see us next weekend, as he is in New York on furlough. However, I will enclose the letter I received from Milt. He, by the way, has killed two Japs. He's really having a tough time of it!

I started this earlier this afternoon. Now it is almost nine. Tante Bosh and Uncle Nish are here. I taught Adele how to say their names, that she might greet them and she did it with flying colors.

They, of course, send their best.

I had a call from Mike Nerenberg last night to inform me that he was unable to visit this Sunday, as his sister had a little boy and they had to go there instead. He'll try to make it next a Sunday. His daughter's name is Norma Valerie. Do you know, honey, that he went into the service the very day we were married - March 20, 1941. He'll be in the service 4 years, come March again.

It's still so hot you could die from the heat. Adele runs me ragged. I got so warm yesterday that I got into the tub with her and we showered each other with the shower spray. It isn't much fun, though, cause the tub isn't large enough to allow for moving around. (Bet you wish you could join us, huh!)?

I’m going to report into work at least an hour earlier each day for the next two weeks, as the bookkeeper is on a two weeks vacation and I'll try to keep his work from piling up too high. For instance, he taught me how to make the deposits (their way) and do several things that must be done daily while he is away. I wonder if Mr. B. realizes how lucky he is to get a gal like me to fill in?

Nothing else of much importance, except, Dot and Snuff are coming up for dinner tomorrow night (Mickey Wyman also) and I just hope I'll be able to squeeze a letter in during the course of the evening.

I love you, baby, so very much that it hurts and hurts and hurts, I certainly hope you are right when you say "Phooie on ’45". How I hope you are right!! Good night, sweetheart, I am and always will be

Your Eve

13 August 1944

Dearest Darling,

Last night I went into town again. It had been two weeks since I saw the Woolfs, and it was such a lovely evening that I just hated to spend it indoors, I went more for the ride than anything else. The work in the Orderly Room is still pretty heavy, and I don't get a chance to write during the day when that is the case. Anyway, I went into town with Cunningham, Burdine, Baker, had three beers with them, and then hopped a cab to the Woolfs' place. They are all fine, and asked after you and the punkin. Incidentally, they are distantly related to Shirley's husband, Max Reese. He is over in England - has been some time now - and Rita spent some time with him. There was a gang at the house, and I couldn't get many of the particulars, but if you compare notes with Shirley, I think you will find that it is a small world after all. Evelyn is almost back to normal again and Nigel is coming along very nicely. He weighs all of 10-1/2 lbs., and is a very quiet, good-looking kid. They put out tomato-herring, lettuce, tomatoes, and mayonnaise for a late supper. Of course, I proceeded to make a sandwich out of the ingredients at hand. They were all greatly amused by the fuss and bother I took. It had never struck me until that moment that a “club-sandwich" is unknown over here, Klein and another G.I. (I think I've mentioned Willie Rosenzweig before) were there. At 10:30, Bert, Evelyn and the baby, Klein, Willie, and Rita, all took off for Mersea, where Bert has his boat. They were to spend the night there, and go swimming the next day (today). I couldn't go along because I had no 24-hour pass as had Klein and Willie, so I made my way back to the lot where our trucks were parked, and was soon on my way back to camp. And that was that. Today was a very busy day for me. I wasn't idle a moment. There is still much to be done. There was no mail either yesterday or today, and I'm hoping that something comes thru tomorrow.

Well, honey, there isn't much more to say for the moment, The news grows better and better and it looks very much like it will soon be all over. Just be patient a while longer, baby, and one fine day all will once again be as it once was, which was pretty nearly perfect. My dreams these days are all of you. I love you more than ever, Chippie, and the mere thought of holding you close is enough to take my breath. My dearest love to the lassie, Mom, and all the folks. I'll try to make it a longer letter tomorrow, Sweet. Until then, I am

Your adoring
Phil 

P.S. Oh yes, I hope you like the insignia. Almost forgot to enclose it - can you imagine?

Post #435 - August 11, 1944 It’s Plainly Evident that He’s Been Through Hell and I Distinctly Remember that Mom Herself Had No Idea When Her Birthday Is

 

Aug. 11, 1944

My sweet,

I didn't write last night, simply 'cause I was in a rather depressed mood and thought it better to skip that day. Besides I hadn't had mail from you for some three days, but this morning I received your very long typewritten letter of Aug. 6, and enjoyed it immensely.

Before I start, I want to talk about the enclosed snaps which Petey gave me last night. The two of Adele in sunsuit and brown shoes were made first, those in her yellow ruffled pinafore a few days later, and those two with Petey and Michael (the little boy down the corner) last week. The last two illustrate what went on here on that "scorching” day I spoke of last week. In the background of those two is the swim pool I told you about and in one picture you can see a little boy and his sister. Those two kids are Joel and Debby, of whom Adele is very fond. She rides Debby's bicycle frequently and plays with her dolls and doll carriage. I hope the fact that Petey is holding her won't work any hardship on the green-eyed monster, if'n you know what I mean. I'm not particularly fond of any of the snaps, excepting the one where she is ensconced in the beach chair and the one where she is standing in the driveway holding her pinafore with both hands, while she smiles her very cute smile. I think you will note that her legs appear straighter in these. She has a lot of weight in her legs. Which reminds me, honey, I did make an appointment with Dr. Lefkoe for Aug. 18th to have her feet and legs examined. He charges $5 per visit, which isn't too bad, 'cause I was informed he charged $10. I called the Red Cross first, but they weren't of any help at all.

I hope you feel better, now that I've made this step. I do. At least we'll know something definite, one way or the other. I'll visit the dentist when it is cooler. I think every 6 months sufficient. 

I'm glad you had an opportunity to relax, sweet, and incidentally, you did not enclose the program you mentioned. I thought the "Errol Flynn" joke "cute" too.

I'm sorry if I give you the impression that I do not have faith in you where it concerns my becoming pregnant again. I just want you to keep reassuring me, especially once we're together. Thanks so much, baby, for the reassurance - I can't tell you how much I appreciate your understanding in this matter. I trust you in everything - it's just me.

I wish very much that you could "See" Adele take her own food - I can't tell you how much!

I shall send off the pyrex bottles as you suggest, if it will make you happy.

We also had mail from Ed as of July 25, but we haven't had any since. I can't help worrying about the kid, much as I try not to. It keeps creeping into my head and I find myself thinking about him more than is good for me. After all, France is no picnic ground and after hearing some of the stories Betty's brother has to tell - well - Phil, it is plainly evident that he's been through hell. He came home today on a three day pass. He's a good-looking fellow, on the small side. He's still in a daze, can't believe that he's home and that the worse is over. He said that one of the fellows died on the train on the way home from a heart attack, which developed from too much excitement about returning home. He wasn't sick at all. Imagine!

You mention at the end of your letter that you are putting on weight, to which I can say - No. No. A Thousand Times No. Phil, I don't mind anything you do, but I dislike intensely when you write that you are gaining weight. I prefer you on the thinner side and always did, if’n you don't mind. Besides, if you're stout when you get home and then lose a lot of weight you'll be sans clothes. Try to keep your weight down, won't you please, sweet?

Don't worry, honey, I don't make issues of anything, much less Mom's coming home at Harry's request. I have on a very few occasions, much to my dislike, but they weren't that serious. Some day we'll talk about everything - some day when we can do something about it.

Thanks so much for sitting up so late to type the letter, my dearest, for I know what it is for you to miss your sleep.

It is very warm again today and consequently I'm rather tired. I'm going to Miss Hahn's tomorrow morning to help her out of her present dilemma. I don't intend to be there more than four hours. She also has a bit of work for me to do at home.

Yesterday morning and this morning I managed to wash all the floors and get most of the housework finished, so that I could give her this Sat. We can't get another girl, so we're making the best of the situation. I've even managed to knit a little on that white sweater I started for Adele in the Spring. I have the back finished and I'm up to the armholes on the front. I think I'm going to make a sailor collar on the sweater and trim it up with dark blue wool. I wrote to Ed yesterday.

I brought Diana Jean a nice rattle that we have at our place today.

Mom, as I told you, is going to Cookie's wedding tomorrow night. I'm going to set her hair as soon as I'm finished typing this, so that she'll look pretty.

Mickey Wyman is going to Maine (and not Canada) for her vacation. I know, 'cause she called and asked to borrow my suitcase. Naturally, I'm lending it to her.

I hope that you're right and the ouija board wrong, for I don't think I could curb my impatience way into ’45. I love you so much, my angel, and right now I'm very sleepily

Your Eve

11 Aug/44

Sweetheart,

Last night I went into town on the Officers' Liberty Run. Oxborrow, one of our gang, was driving and asked me to go along and keep him company. I had seen the picture playing at the "Thunderbolt" and was in the mood for a movie, so I decided to go along. We saw "The Way Ahead", a British-made film starring David Niven, which was as good, or better than some of our better American productions. It was over two hours long, yet it did not "drag” at any time. It was a very human, very exciting and inspiring story of a group of Englishmen conscripted into the British Army, their training, adventures, travels, and eventual destiny. It was a most enthralling film, and I urge you to see it if ever you get the opportunity, Chippie, That, incidentally is why I didn't write last night again. I'm hoping, Sweet, that you hold no brief with me for it. I am still pretty busy in the Orderly Room, but Sgt. Danner has helped considerably, and everything is under control. You might be interested to hear that the Company has, to date, subscribed 73% of its war bond quota. I'm ashamed to say though, that that figure is the lowest of any on the station. I expect we will fill our quota O.K. next pay day, but I don't think we'll attain anywhere near the figure some of the other units are rolling up. The leading outfit is an M.P. company with a total of 235%, and that's going some! Hope that money order I asked for gets here in time to boost our own average a little! You must know by now, Sweet, that one of your oft-expressed wishes has come true. Jack N. is in love - and how! I received his letter advising me of the fact yesterday. It is a thing of lyrical beauty. He really exceeds himself in his descriptions of his emotions and feelings. If he isn't in love he certainly gives a damned good imitation of it! I haven't answered him yet because I was busy all day on the pay-roll, but I will at the very first opportunity. Your V-mail of the 27th July arrived by the same post. It answered some of the questions I had put in previous letters, and advised me that Eddie had seen action and had come through O.K. Thank God for that! I'm still waiting to hear from him. If nothing comes thru within the next couple of days, I'll try to find the time to write to him again. Can't understand why I don't hear from Harry W. either. Today brought me two more of your precious letters, precious, but they were pretty old ones. They are dated 14 and 16 July. I can't understand it, because I received one dated 30 July day before yesterday. So - I know what's happening back home, all right, but I don't know which events follow who - or what! They are both "newsy” letters, and I enjoyed reading them, especially that part about Petey taking Adele's picture in her yellow pinafore that you seem to think so much of. Your revelation that "yesterday” (July 15) was Mom's birthday was a great surprise to me because I distinctly remember that Mom herself had no idea when her birthday is. At least, I could never worm it out of her. However, if that's her story, I'll abide by it and conduct myself accordingly in future. It certainly was good of Betty to give you those window shades. Tell her thanks for me, too. By the way, darling, thanks for letting me know Gloria's birthday, too. I think I'll have time to drop her a few lines of congratulation, and I intend to. She has been most considerate and kind to me, and I'd hate to have her think I forgot her birthday.

Baby, the weather these past few days has been absolutely beautiful, and don't let anybody tell you that England is a land of rain and fog. It isn't. No more so than Philly, anyhow, and we have still to be inconvenienced by the heat. The only difference that I can see between the two climates, outside of that, is that the weather changes more abruptly and more frequently over here. In the winter, it doesn't get quite as cold either, although I'll admit that it is a damp and disagreeable cold. But enough for the vagaries of the English weather.

After a full day working on the pay-roll, I took in the first show at the theatre with Klein. The picture was an oldie that I thought I had seen, but hadn't. It was "Lovely to Look At", with Sonja Henie, Tyrone Power, Joan Davis and lesser lights. Sonja's skating, if you remember, Sweet, has always been my idea of wonderful entertainment. After seeing this, I can only say that I stil(l) (who's a copy-cat?) - feel that way. Ty Power is just a little too "pretty-boyish" to suit my stomach, but gives a capable performance nevertheless, Joan Davis is very good in a few novelty numbers. After the show, we stopped at the Snack Bar for sandwiches and cokes and cakes. Then I hied myself to the Orderly Room where I commenced this. And now I am just about ready to go to bed, so I'll leave you for the nonce, my dearest darling, with a fond "hasta manana", a bit of the old cheerio, and a good old American-style hug and kiss, The same for my precious punkin. My love to all. Just call me

Your lover,
Phil