Post #444 - August 25, 26, 1944 God What I Wouldn’t Give to See This God Damn War Over Soon

 

Aug. 25, 1944

My Sweet,

My letter tonight brings bad news. Eddie is in a hospital in England having been wounded. I suppose we should thank God he's alive, but his letter is so terribly vague and we have no idea of the extent of his injuries. He sounds terribly heavy of heart and it frightens me. He never does say much, and leaves entirely too much to the imagination. Undoubtedly we'll receive a telegram from the War Dept. I wonder if it is possible for you to look him up or to find out what his injuries are? Please write to him - perhaps he'll be able to disclose more to you. His address is: Cpl. E.P. 33732822, Detachment of Patients, 4174 U. S. Army Hospital Plant, APO 121, New York, N.Y.

I'm going down to see Lil tonight as I must get the slip I bought her and exchange it and this is the only opportunity I will have to see her. I also spoke to Dot and everything is okay with her. Do you know, sweet, that she received an allotment check today! If that is the case I think the gov’t owes me some money, which I intend to claim. I'll tell you all about it when I have all the details clear. It isn't more than $18 so don't get excited.

I just called Lil to tell her I'll soon be leaving and she told me that she was talking to a man who works for the Bulletin and that he said something big is due to break tonight, something big for headlines, such as another Invasion (more of the real thing this time) and I sure do hope she's right. God what I wouldn't give to see this god damn war over soon.

I'm sorry I must cut this short, honey, but I'm sure you'll understand. I'd like nothing better than to have you close by at this moment, honey, cause I feel that I could use some comforting words, and stuff. Mike just this moment called to confirm my invite and I've promised to go out there on Sunday.

I'm working for Miss Hahn for four hours tomorrow morning to help her out of another predicament, but more then. I love you so much, my dearest, darlingest Phil and I'm giving you the biggest hug and longest kiss you ever got right at this very moment. Now, how did you like that! Don't forget to tell me how you liked it. Baby, I almost hate to go away, but I must. I adore you, sweet!

Your Eve

Aug. 26, 1944 

Dearest Mine,

This letter shall have to suffice for both Aug. 26 and 27 as I did not have the opportunity to get past the salutation last night. It is now shortly before 12 on Aug. 27th and I'm just getting around to writing. Last night I pressed and knitted, as I am anxious to finish Adele's white sweater. We are having regular fall weather and she needs some warm things. I have the back and fronts of the sweater together and even managed to put the edges where I make buttonholes on. Now all I have to do to finish the sweater is makes the sleeves and sew the buttons on. It fits her beautifully, what there is of it.

Dot called last night to inform me that Snuff was in on a 24 hour pass. Yesterday I worked for Miss Hahn from 9:15 to 1:15 and then went to Broad St, with Adele to change Lil's slip when I got back. By the way I never did tell you about my visit to Lil. There isn't much to tell, sweet, except that we gabbed and gabbed and gabbed most of the evening about everything, everyone and anything else you can think of. I didn't get home til one in morning. While on Broad St. I bought Adele a cute little pocketbook to play with and I bought myself something I had wanted for a long time - a knitting box. You know, one of those long boxes that you carry your wool in and it is quite attractive. It only cost 59¢ and I've put it to good use already. I expect to do a lot of knitting again this year, as I tried to buy Adele a nice sweater and can't get anything decent for a reasonable amount. For the price I would have to pay for one I can make her three or four, which is really something. And the bought one doesn't hold up half as well as a hand-made one.

You know, sweet, Eddie didn't say in his letter that he was wounded. He only said he was in a hospital - that's all. Perhaps he isn't wounded after all, just sick. I hope we get mail soon again to ease our minds. His letter by the way, was written about Aug. 18 or 19 and the last letter I had from you was dated Aug. 17. While out shopping yesterday. I bought a nice little rattle for Mike's baby, as Adele and I are going out to see them about three this afternoon! Gosh, but I wish you were going along with us!

In your last letter you asked me whether you should send Adele a rag doll. Honey, I don't think it is necessary, but suit yourself. She needs many other things now that the winter weather is approaching such as overalls, jerseys, underwear, sleepers, a snowsuit, a robe and some sweaters and hats. I'm sort of curious about what they charge for a doll, honey, and would like you to enlighten me. We also sell lovely dolls in our place. A rag doll would cost me about $2 and a regular doll from $2.75 up and I do mean up, for they run into the $10 and $20 if you like em that way.

I'm going up to the ration board tomorrow morning to get that shoe ration stamp for Adele, so that I might order her corrective shoes. Honestly, sweet, I'm always so darn busy I don't even have time to breathe. Time goes very quickly though and that is what I like most. I do like something better - YOU! I Love you!

Your Eve

Post #443 - August 23, 24, 1944 In Two Days Milt Brown Had Only a Slice of Bread, Two Cups of Coffee and a Half of Peach to Keep Him Going

 

Aug. 23, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Tonight my brother Seymour came in on a 10 day furlough. He looks great and is mighty happy to be home. My folks are equally happy that he is home. He told us that there are only four Jews in the whole company and shortly after they arrived the fellows made cracks against the Jews. Sy and another fellow, who is a toughy, got up and told the whole damn bunch to get up and say what they had to say about the Jews in front of their faces, so that they could be given a lesson. No one ventured to go out of his way. Sy gave me a picture of the company that was made recently.

I haven't had mail from you for five days now and I'm terribly disappointed in your negligence in writing. I'm sure if you'd go out of your way just a little bit you'd certainly be able to get a few words off to me more often. Gosh, honey, it's almost eleven - I've been busy every single moment of this day, in fact I just finished writing letters to Milt, Gloria and Ruth and I’m very, very tired. I had another v-mail from Milt today and do you know, sweet, that he writes to me every four days, which is as much as you seem to be writing to me. Somehow I'm not flattered when I compare it with your letters. I do realize that circumstances may have prevented you from writing, dear, and I'm not really angry, but please try to write more often, will you?

Milt's v-mail today wasn't good at all. He has dropped so much weight that his clothes do not fit him. In two days he had only a slice of bread, two cups of coffee and a half of peach to keep him going. I'm going to send him a package and have asked him several times to request what he desires most. He told me that Mickey Brown is going to undergo an operation for some trouble that has been bothering him from an auto accident.

Mom went to Browns Mills again last night and told me to tell you that she would write to you when she got back. She just wrote Jack a seven pager and didn't want to be partial. Mom had a letter from Zelda some time ago in which Zelda said that Carmela wants to become a nurse. Zelda thought Adele very cute in the snap we sent.

I call Dot daily and so far Snuff is still at New Cumberland. Dot went out to see him this past Sunday. She gets mail from him regularly.

Mike Nerenberg called this evening and made me promise that I would come out to see them this coming Sunday with Adele, which I fully intend to do. He promised to make moving pictures of Adele and if you can get hold of an 8 m. m. projector I would send the film along for you to see, but it would have to be returned. I think Adele's last two teeth are just about out - Thank God! I fixed my hair very nicely today and when I finished Adele looked at it and said, "Mommy - pretty". She looks at the pin you sent me and when I ask who sent it she says "Daddy". So there now! Guess she’ll know you, honey. She also says "uh-uh" instead of "no" at times and it's extra special cute. I love you, dear.

Your Eve

Aug. 24, 1944

Dearest Phil,

I was very disappointed when the mailman passed me up for the sixth day in a row this morning. However, this evening I was gratified no end to learn that he favored me with three letters of yours of Aug. 14,15 and 17 in the afternoon and a nice card from Snuff, who promises to write just as soon as he is settled. I herewith apologize for calling you down for not writing - I guess it was just cause I was so let down.

Tony is in England now and Fay’s hubby is at a POE. He sent Fay a $10 bond (did you know they were issued in that denomination?). The weather continues cool and I didn't manage to get down to see Lil this evening and I promised her I'd definitely be down tomorrow evening. I shall try to write a letter before I leave.

All your letters were very, very sweet, darling, and made me long for you more than ever. I've been sort of blue all week anyway, but your letters cheered me up no end. I'm glad you finally wrote to Glo. It’s funny, as she always says, we both think of her at exactly the same time. Proof: she always received a letter from each of us on the same day. She claims it never fails. I wrote to her yesterday and no doubt the letter you mention in today’s letters reached her today too, as mine did - so there you are. As you know by this time I am definitely not taking any vacation (I'd much rather save it for you any day, sweet) and though I had decided to splurge where clothes are concerned this fall, I'll try to keep as low as possible and save the bulk so that we may shop together. (That last sounds good enough to eat)! Yes, dear, Adele knows her Daddy's name. She even learned to say Seymour distinctly and is really getting to know him now that she is at the house all day. I do hope you've found time to write to Mike, as I'm sure he is most anxious to hear from you.

Adele is going through another stage. She becomes terribly panic-stricken at the slightest move. For instance, if the wind blows she’ll run to me and grab me and cry “Mommy - mommy - mommy”. She's deathly afraid of shadows and drives me insane when she acts thusly. I can't handle her at all and I've made up my mind not to let it bother me further. If the sky clouds up she immediately becomes frightened. I guess it's just a matter of becoming used to such new things. God, what crazy things kids do! She’s just as sweet, though, as she's ever been (after all we aren't perfect by any means) and gets smarter every day. She doesn't walk - she runs - all day long. She showed me the moon this evening (it sort of made me remember various other occasions that I'll never forget) and calls the sky "tie". Her two front teeth haven't actually cut themselves through as yet, but are merely very close to the edge, so much so that they can be felt. She's much, much better and is eating her meals nicely.

It's very late, honey, and though I'm not very tired this evening I do have to get up early, so I'm going to post this and hit the hay. Really baby, I could go on all evening telling you how much I adore you, how much I miss you and how I long to hold you close to me, once more. (Sigh - - - - - - -

Your Eve

Post #442 - August 22, 1944 The Grief-Stricken Family Hopes the War Doesn’t End, That Roosevelt Doesn’t Get In Again and They Will Not Buy Another Bond

 

Aug. 22, 1944

Darling Hubby,

I have a little spare time left and I'm going to try to get off a few words to you, Gosh, honey, I've got so much to say and so much to tell you that I hardly know where to begin, I started a letter to you yesterday, but never finished, as we had company, all of which you will learn presently,

Let's start at the beginning. I wrote to you on Sat., shortly before Jackie arrived, which was about four o’clock. We chatted, took some snaps (Petey snapped several of the three of us) and then had dinner. Adele has been teething for the past few days and didn't look well at all. Her teething is so severe that she has had to throw up on several occasions. Besides this her face was drawn and a bit rashy. I was sorry that Jack had to find her looking that way, but that's how it is. Jack looks like a million - the army sure has done wonders for him. He also mentioned having visited an ear of specialist in N.Y. and there is a strong possibility that some day his hearing might be restored. Adele would not go to sleep and it was rather late when we reached the Zaslow's house. Jack had come in with Sonya (she went there directly upon arriving, while Jack came here) and had promised to visit that very evening in order not to disappoint anyone. On the way down (via 47 ) Jack told me all about his "love" life with Marilyn and Adeline, whom he had taken out while in N.Y. I won't bother to go into detail for I'm sure he will, or has.

All the Zaslows are fine, including the newlyweds, who just can't get over their good fortune in having Dave stationed right here in Philly and living at home with his wife, As it is, Hilda is his boss. Hilda works for the meat inspection bureau and arranges the appointments for the inspectors (who examine meat consigned for Army camps) and it so happens that Dave is one of the inspectors, The other day she let him have the day off, but promised not to do it often. How's that for luck! Hilda said she used to dream in that particular vein, but never, never expected any bit of it to some day become a reality. Jennie looks exceptionally well, having lost 12 lbs. since Hilda's marriage. Jen, by the way, has broken.off with Leonard, (Dave's brother, to whom she was reportedly engaged) and Jack tells me it's due to family difficulty,

We had a nice time talking about many things and the Zaslows served fruit, ice cream, pretzels, etc. We left a 12:15 and were home by one.

I gave Jack your short story to read and am leaving his opinions for him to write, He particularly like the poem you sent me for my birthday. (so do I!)

On Sunday we all arose rather early, as Jack had promised to go back to the Zaslows and was leaving early that afternoon, intending to visit Lennie in Tennessee before heading back to Colorado. He had breakfast shortly before 12 and took his leave an hour later. All in all it was a very short visit. I told him how disgusted I was when I read of his going with a Baptist, but told him right off that I would never be the one to tell him what to do (as if he would listen) and that I wished him luck at whatever he undertook to do. This girl, by the way, is very cute and he'll probably send her picture along.

Harry got talking to Jack Sat. night and was telling him that after Labor Day he will join the union and will work on a straight salary of $14 per week, plus commission of his sales, which run up to about a $1000, and that his salary would run anywhere from $85 to $100 per week. I didn't know that, but I do now.

Jack gave Adele 7¢ on Sat, night and we all went over to Ben's. I sat Adele at the fountain and she laid her 7¢ down for ice-cream and a pretzel. She's a real grown young lady and I don't mean maybe! Jack particularly liked the way she said "Oooh Nuts!"

Sunday afternoon Adele looked cute in spite of her teething. She wore the little powder blue dress Sarah gave her, and I combed her hair into an upsweep and put a large powder blue bow on the top of her head. She looked very sophisticated and cute (if you can look those two at the same time) (and she can!) and took pains to stay neat. Mrs. Frommer's trunk came and she presented Adele with the unbreakable dolly she had brought her. Well, sweet, I wish you could see how that kid lights up every time, she gets something new! I've taught her to give each of her dollies a name and this latest one acquired the name of "Mimi.

Yale and Shirley came to town two days ago on a furlough and I decided to visit them shortly after Jack left. They made an extra special fuss over Adele, who called Yale "shale" and Shirley "sir ley". By the way, dear, Adele does not say "Sha rah" for Sarah as I told you recently - she says "Sea rah" and sometimes says Sarah perfectly.

Sunday when I awoke I became unwell, but it wasn't as bad as it used to be. Both Yale and Shirley thought I looked exceptionally well. We got to talking about Billy and Dolly and they told me that Gotham pays Dolly $90 every month. This beside her $80 allotment, said Shirley, makes it very difficult for her to get along (sarcastically) so she's down the shore all summer. Now that is sumpin! Imagine! $90 per month! Ye Gods!

It's almost time to leave so I'll finish this off at home, if I can think of anything else to say (am I kidding?)

Aug. 22, 1944 

Here I am again, sweet, (aren't you sorry) to complete this drawn out missive.

I was going to send along the letter I wrote yesterday but it is so much like today's letter that I tore it up instead. When I was over to see Yale and Shirley on Sunday they asked me to accompany them to a movie on Monday night and I said I would.

However, let us get back to Sunday. Adele and I stayed at Yale and Shirley's for about an hour. Yale is trying to get a transfer to Colorado. Sunday night I let Adele eat her dinner sitting in a regular chair at the table. She did very nicely, but it is a little hard on me. Ethel will soon need the high chair, so I'll have to break her of it anyhow. My mom still has the old one, which will stay at her house, since Adele only eats breakfast here during the week.

Rae came over Sunday night and slept over. I spent the evening talking to her and Mom, as every time Rae comes over I'm busy with some thing or other and rarely had an opportunity to pay any attention to her. While talking I knitted a bit on Adele's white sweater that I mentioned a while back.

Monday I got into work at 11 and took along the nightie Mom got for Lil and the slip I got her from "us". I had them wrapped into one package at work and dropped the package off at her house on our way home. Lil wasn't there, but Jack was. Mr. Perry, who drives us home, was good enough to go out of his way so that I might make the stop. Lil called later in the evening to express her appreciation and to notify me that the slip was miles too big. I hope to get down to see her on Thursday. Naturally, I shall exchange the slip and try o get a smaller size or something else. Eddie Stolinsky is in France.

While I was talking to Lil in walked Yale, Shirley and Emma. I dashed to get dressed and would have been ready had it not been for Adele, who just can't seem to sleep these past few nights. Anyway, we wound up staying home, eating ice-cream and chatting about this, that and the other thing.

Em and Shirl went across the street to pay their respects to the grief stricken family. I was shocked to learn how bitter they are. They hope the war doesn't end, that Roosevelt doesn't get in again and they will not buy another bond. Some of the things shocked me beyond words. For this reason I have made up my mind not to go over. All that would do me a whole lot of no good. Some day I'll tell you all about this family.

Today I was in at 11 again. I do not have sufficient time to get to the ration board, but will go just as soon as I can.

I've had to use a blanket these past few nights and I simply love it. I'd love it even better if you were under that blanket with me. Phil, dear, do you realize that I haven't had mail from you since Friday? I know how you dislike writing often (I don't feel any different) but I wish you would consider, sweet, that you don't work nearly as hard as I do and have time for relaxation and recreation when your day is through, which is more than I can say for myself, so (ifn’ you won't mind too much) I'd appreciate it an awful lot if you'd write just a little more often than the twice a week you seem to be favoring me with. Getting mail from you is my one great pleasure these days -

Your Eve

Hilda's Dave thinks the war will be over in two months - Oh Baby! I love you and want you so much!

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