Post #459 - September 18, 1944 Guess They’ll All Have Kids By the Time You Get Back and We Came Out to Find the Sky Full of the Planes and Gliders of the 1st Airborne Army

 

Sept. 18, 1944

Beloved Darling,

Believe it or not I finally got your package off today! I had to rewrap it no less than three times to get it to the right size and weight and finally had it wrapped in our place. I sent off the package of salt water taffies Ruth brought you alone. The larger package contains the following: six pyrex bottles, a half dozen nipples, a rattle for Nigel (my own, if you please) (gift, I mean), two rolls of life savers, a pack of chewing gum, two peanut chew bars, a box of chiclets and a milky way for you. I thought It time I gave you a break. I'm relieved that the package is in the mail and I wish you'd advise the Woolfs that the bottles are on the way. Here's hopin' they arrive in good condition. I believe this package is wrapped better than any I ever sent you - that's cause I didn't do the whole job myself. The colored fellows in my place fussed over it and did all they could to do the job right to please me.

Here's a bit of news - Remember Renee and Meyer - well, Renee is pregnant - about four months of it I believe. Guess we'll all have kids by the time you get back. (I should have said they'll). I'm so darn tired I don't know what I'm saying. We were very busy, due to the four day holiday, and I was rushed all day at work. I don't ever remember being rushed so and I'm very anxious to get to bed.

Adele shocked my mom with the following: She was eating her lunch and my mother let her eat it alone. When Adele finished the first course and my mother gave her her dessert, she reached to take the spoon from Adele and give her a clean one, saying "Adele, you can't eat with the dirty spoon, Nanmom will give you another". Adele merely replied "Nanmom, vass it". My mother couldn't believe it came from her. As you can see, sweetness, our darling daughter is using simple sentences.

I rode to work with Anne Cohen this afternoon (Phil's old flame) and she looks like a million. She certainly has become a regular glamour gal.

And now, if’n you don't mind, honey, I'll take my leave of you, not, however, til I've told you once more what I've been telling you these many years - that I adore you, baby mine - and that adoration grows and grows and grows. Today we are married exactly three and a half years, but, strangely, I don't feel as if I were ever married. You can't feel very married being 14 months away from your hubby at that. Oh well, there'll come a day -

The news gets better and better and I follow it closely. I could discuss many topics with you, but we'll have to save them for "some day". In the meantime I'll say goodnight, darling, I am 

Your Eve

P.S. Fay’s hubby was shipped directly to France.

P.S. Mike’s daughter was born in January of this year.

18 September 44 

 

Ev, dearest,

 

Just returned from town to find your most welcome letter of 5 Sep. awaiting me. Klein and I, and five other fellows of the base were taken in via truck to attend the Rosh Hashanah services. They were held at the chapel of the garrison in town. Chaplain Richards, of the British Army, officiated. The worshipers were almost entirely service men and women of three armies, American, British and Canadian, but the great majority of the congregation were American soldiers and officers. We far outnumbered all the rest put together. There was also a sprinkling of civilians, mainly Mr. Dee and his sons and brothers. The service was of about an hour's duration, and was half in English and half in Hebrew. Not a bad idea, cause the English explains the Hebrew, and its a novelty to understand what you are saying. I never could see the sense in praying in a language understood only by a few scholars. Afterwards, we went along with the Dees to their home. The table was already set when we arrived. The women were waiting for us. Of course, Klein and I were unlooked-for guests, but there was enough food for all, and just enough room at table. After a few drinks (muscatel, scotch, gin) there were herring, cucumber, and tomatoes for an appetizer and buttered baigel. The meal itself consisted of fish croquettes, mashed potatoes, pickles, etc. Then, the ever present tea, and home-made cookies that were exactly like Mom used to bake on the Holidays. After supper, the Dees proceeded to entertain themselves and everyone else, as is their custom. My partner at table was a young English soldier, who lives in London, has a wife and 3-year old daughter, and was getting his first leave in six months the following day. He is a versatile musician, playing both the piano and violin, and possessed of a very fine, immensely powerful tenor voice. He had brought along his own violin, and played for us. I myself, didn't care for his style (he was too careless and rough with his bowing, but he played swing, which is something I never could do on the violin, The Dees, as per usual, were a show all by themselves. Ginger, Mr. Dee's kid brother (200 lbs, and short and red-haired), was home on a ten-day leave from his regiment and played the piano and sang in a husky baritone. Mr. & Mrs. Dee jitterbugged, tangoed, sang, and raised hell generally. Klein just raised hell generally. Yours very lovingly fiddled around with the fiddle and found he was very rusty, indeed. (I've been trying to get hold of a violin around here for a few months now, but only yesterday did I succeed in finding one. It belongs to a Cpl. on the base here, and he has promised to loan it to me. Now - if I could only find the time—!). Anyhow, a swell time was had by all at the Dees’, as you may well imagine. They are positively the happiest, merriest family it has ever been my pleasure to know. They are truly wonderful. I wished so much, Chippie, that you were there to see them! At 11:30, Klein and I left them, albeit reluctantly. We spent the night at the Red Cross Club, arose early next morning (today), breakfasted at the club, and set out for the garrison chapel again. We attended services from 10:00 A. M. 'til 12:30, when we had to meet the truck that was to take us back to camp. Today, everyone showed up. Bert and his father, Mr. Marks and the kids, the Dees—all were there, but we only had time to say hello and cheerio to them. Where we arrived at the mess-hall, dinner was over, but the mess-sergeant told us to help ourselves to the ham, baked beans, mashed potatoes and coffee, which hadn’t been put away. We rushed thru the meal so that we might be in time for the matinee showing of "The Sullivans" at the base theater. It was a swell picture—one I enjoyed thoroughly. It is at once human and inspiring and more than a little disturbing—emotionally, I mean. We came out to find the sky full of the planes and gliders of the 1st Airborne Army. It was, without a doubt, the most thrilling sight I have ever seen. More than anything I have ever seen, it symbolized the might of our country, and the sight filled me with pride and gratitude that I am an American.

Well, Chippie mine, that's about the size of it. I returned to barracks, changed, and spent what little remained of the afternoon around the Orderly Room. Excuse me while I beat the ears off Nicholson, who has been pestering me to play some ping-pong. 

So long, Baby. Don't forget—I love you! My love to the punkin—and all. 

Always, 

Your Phil 

P.s. My address has been changed. The new APO is 559. Event else is the same.

Post #458 - September 17, 1944 The Year in Which We Hope to Be United Forevermore and May the New Year Find Us Re-united Once More for All Time

 

Sept. 17, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart,

Last night after I mailed your letter I stopped over to see Helen. She wasn't home, so I jabbered with Mrs. Breslow a while. I also forgot to tell you that Jean asked for overseas duty, took her overseas physical and is expecting orders to ship out most any day now. Who knows! You might even run into her one of these days. I got to bed about 10:30 and had a good night's rest to get off to a good start. I mean to get plenty of rest these couple of days. The weather today is lovely and it makes we wish very much that you were here to help me enjoy it. I did very little of any consequence today, a little washing, a little sewing, a little cleaning, etc. Adele is all decked out in her yellow pinafore and accessories and looks very pretty. Her hair is very long and I'm able to make curls all around. I expect them to hang on her shoulders in a few months, and perhaps you'll get to see them yourself by then. I'm wearing my brown slack outfit so that I can lazy it. I'm in need of several dressy dresses, honey, and if you don't get home soon, I'm going to have to buy them without you. Since I started to work I find that I need many, many things. I didn't need in the line of clothes before and there's no time like the present to get them. I enjoy clothes more if I know they please you, sweet. Adele likes to talk on the telephone and she'd amaze you with her ability to carry on a conversation. She called my mother (I dialed) and she said "Hello, Mommom". My mother asked her if I were nearby and she replied, "yes". It is the Eve of the New Year, the year in which we hope to be reunited forevermore. I hate to rush my life away, but this is one time I don't mind. I adore you darling, and am lovingly

Your Eve

17 September 1944

Dearest Darling,

Only have time to get off a few lines tonight. Klein and I are going into town to attend Rosh Hashanah services. Happy New Year, darling. May the next one be a happier one for all of us. May it find us re-united once more for all time. My love to the punkin, and a "gut yontev” to all the family. My dearest love to you, Sweet.

Ever,
Your Phil

Post #457 - September 16, 1944 Ruth was Good Enough to Take Care of Adele All Afternoon and After the Show We Groped Our Way Through the Moonless Night to the Marks’ Place

 

Sept. 16, 1944

My Dearest,

No mail again today and so I'm looking forward to Monday already. I wasn't going to write this evening, but don't want to skip, especially when I have the opportunity to write. I went to work this morning and worked my usual four hours. I felt sort of weary all morning and when I boarded the subway I had a recurrence of that severe pain in my shoulder. It became so painful that I acquired a throbbing headache and by the time I arrived home I was no good for anything. It's due in large part to the fact that I am "due" again and it seems as though I always feel this way just before the big moment. I had some lunch and hit the sack for almost three hours. Ruth was good enough to take care of Adele all afternoon. When I awoke I still had a terrible headache, but I made up my mind to get up and soon after it disappeared. I feel much better now, but I think I'd feel lots better if you were here with me. I miss you so much, sweet, and the lack of mail doesn't do me one bit of good. Due to all this, the package didn't get off, but it is all made up and will go off first thing Monday morning. Last night, before I went to bed, I started on another sweater for Adele. I'm using the pink wool Dot bought for me last year and I'm making the same style sweater for her that I made for Stuart, the one Ethel was so crazy about. Neither my dad nor I have had an opportunity to do anything about having the radio repaired, but it will be tended to first thing this week. I also have next Wednesday off due to the holidays. At least I'm getting an opportunity to rest up, which isn't doing me a bit of harm. I brought home three midget autos with rubber tires for Adele, the kind you give a shove and they travel quite a bit on their own. Room for a goodly portion of my love for you, darling and even room for 

Your Eve

16 September 1944

Darling Evvie,

Haven't written since the 13th. The reason is that I went on pass on the 14th and didn't get back 'til late last night. I am scheduled to go on 48-hour pass on the 21st, so this one was in the nature of being an impromptu leave. My reason for taking it was two-fold. Sgt. Murphy needed a pair of his trousers altered, and I had to have my insignia put on my new blouse. You see, Sweet, I have been planning to spend my 48-hour leave in London, and I wanted to get my blouse fixed up for the occasion. There was quite a bit of sewing to be done on it, and even if I could have done it neatly myself, which I couldn't have, it would have taken me a coupla evenings that I can't spare. Nappy (my bunk-mate) and I went into town on the liberty-run truck, arriving there about 7:15 P.M. I called the Woolfs to see what was cooking, and talked to Aunt Til and Evelyn, who told me that Bert was in London on business, but was expected back that evening, and why didn't I stop over? So Nappy and I hopped a cab and rode over there. Bert was already home. We killed the evening gabbing about this and that and the other thing, had a snack of sandwiches, coffee and cake, and, when it got late (11:30), went to the Red Cross Club to spend the night. Early next morning we rose, breakfasted, and browsed around the town and the Castle park for about two hours. It was only the second time Nappy had been to town, and he was all eyes, He had to see everything in all the shop windows, and after some altercation between us, talked me into going into the Woolworth's 5 and 10 (yes, they have them over here) to browse around. While browsing, some sweater "instructions" caught my eye. I got to thinking how nice you would look in a few of the styles, and picked out some of the most attractive ones to send along to you. They are a bit too bulky to include in one letter, so I'll send them separately in my next few letters. Hope you like them well enough to make them, Sweet. After Nappy had his fill of looking around, we went across the street to Bert's shop, where I proceeded to buy the following: An 8th Air Corps patch, shiny brass buttons to replace the plastic ones on my blouse, service ribbons (Good Conduct, ETO, and Pearl Harbor), a hash-mark (3 years' service), overseas stripes (one for each six months), and the 8th Air Corps brooch for Mom, which I am enclosing. Then Bert gave us the address of a tailor, who is a buddy of his. He's a fellow in his middle thirties, has a wife about the same age, and three kids: Helena, 7, Carol, 3, and Butch, 4 (all good-looking and smart as whips). Mr. and Mrs. Marks received me as a "lantsman” and went out of their way to be accommodating and friendly. While Mr. Marks was busy sewing my stuff, Mrs. Marks engaged me in conversation. Nappy noticed a few British-type battle-jackets laying around, and we proceeded to try them on, and buy them. This type of jacket is much sought-after over here 'cause they are neat and dressy, and I was tickled to be able to get one. Mr. Marks wanted me to accompany him to the Dees', where there was a card-game scheduled that night. I was just itching to go, (I can just hear you saying I’ll bet you were!), but Nappy doesn't play cards, and I didn't feel right about deserting him, so I told Marks "another time". Nappy and I went to the movies to see "His Butler's Sister". Yes, I know I saw it before, but this is one of the best she ever made, and I enjoyed it immensely the second time. For that matter, I guess I could see that particular picture a third and fourth time - and still enjoy it. Lady, I guess you know when I like something, I do so whole-heartedly - and I sure do like Deanna Durbin, She pleases both the eye and the ear, and as far as I am concerned, very much so. Which reminds me - I never did get around to telling you how much I enjoyed "Gaslight", did I? It is a brooding, suspenseful, dramatic sort of picture that gives full scope to the unlimited and truly wonderful histrionic abilities of both Boyer and Bergman. They are altogether vital, alive, real, and convincing in their respective roles. For once, Bergman, the incomparable Ingrid, has a foil worthy of her talents in Boyer, who is simply superb in this. In a word, a picture to be seen and remembered. Now, where was I? Oh yes, after the show we groped our way through the moonless night to the Marks' place. We found Mrs. Marks in the living room, listening to a radio mystery while she worked on a jacket. Having about an hour to kill before we had to start back, we settled down to listen to the radio. Soon everyone was volunteering their opinion of the murderer. Not to be outdone, and having good reason to believe that the guilty one was the maid, I also volunteered my guess. Two British soldiers had dropped in to visit, and they added their expressions of disbelief to those of Nappy's and Mrs. Marks, who were convinced that the murdered woman's husband was the culprit. Of course, Chippie, you have guessed the outcome. It was the maid, alright. Mrs. Marks served coffee and cake and we talked small talk until it was time to go. We walked about a mile to the R.R. Station, where we boarded the truck that took us back to camp. On the truck, I ran into Red, who was returning from a pass in London. He has a gal there who must like him very much, ’cause he confided to me that she virtually proposed to him. Unfortunately for her, Red isn't having any. And that just about covers that!

This morning, on reporting to the Orderly Room, I hoped there would be some mail awaiting me, but no such luck - nary a one - from anyone. There were a few things to be done. Just enough to keep me occupied. This afternoon there were a few other things to take care of. I started this just after supper. It is now just 7:50 - and I'm just about written out. The picture at the base theatre is "Cabin in the Sky, one I saw a long time ago. I haven't quite made up my mind whether I want to see it again or not.

So long for now, Baby. The "sweater" I am enclosing is my favorite of the four. I think it would look well in pink, with black trimming, or black with red trimming. How's about it, Sweet, will you please your old man by making it?

Give the brooch to Mom with my love and my earnest wish that she wear it in the best of health.

One of these days I'll find something worthy as a gift for Adele. Until then, just kiss her for me. My love to all, but especially to you, my darling. I love you, Baby.

Always,
Your Phil

Sept. 16, 1944

Dear Family,

It's been two weeks since last heard from any of you. To be frank, I’m worried. I do so hope that you are all in the best of health. I’m still in the best of health and getting along O.K. It seems that the mail is being held up for some reason or another and I hope that tomorrow I shall receive a letter or letters from you. I really have nothing of interest to write about as nothing of interest ever happens here. A reply to my letter to Phil which I wrote about a month ago is still to come and I am very anxious to hear from him. I've mentioned in a previous letter that I wanted a picture of Phil for he’s the only member of our family of whom I don’t have a picture of so please oblige. We are having our laundry done for us again and believe me - I’m glad. Gloria wrote me that the rumor about Harry Weiman was only a rumor which was passed on to her by Rose Genshaft - I mean Rose Drucker. Well, folks time to hit the mattress - yes we still sleep on those things - My best to all.

Love,

Jack

Post #456 - September 14, 15, 1944 Steel Pier was Damaged and Some of the Boardwalk Washed Away and I Don’t Mind Anything As Long As My Peace of Mind Concerning Money is Clear

 

Sept. 14, 1944

Dearest Phil,

It rained for the third straight day in a row and what I mean rained! A hurricane of large proportion has hit the eastern coast and I understand Atlantic City has been hit hard. I heard reports that Steel Pier was damaged and some of the boardwalk washed away. Today, though it rained, most of the storm consisted of a heavy wind. It wasn't raining when I went to work and since I was rather late I didn't have the opportunity to stop for the bottles. I feel a heel for putting it off day after day, and I'll positively make it my business to stop for them tomorrow without fail. I've sort of caught up on my correspondence, for a change, and I'm catching up on my housework little by little. I just finishing ironing the kitchen curtains. I called Dot this morning and half-promised to stop out there Saturday night to play Gin Rummy, if'n I'm not too tired. Yale is being transferred from Oklahoma to Denver, Colorado as he requested. He claimed the weather in Oklahoma was detrimental to his health and although no one else has ever been transferred for that particular reason, he was the first lucky guy. He has connections in Denver that will benefit him and undoubtedly Shirley will now rejoin him. She has been waiting here at home to learn definitely whether or not he would be transferred. I let Adele call Sarah on the phone this morning and Adele practically carried on a regular conversation with her. She told Sarah that she played in the "playpen" and that it was "raining" out and said "yes" when asked if she was a good girl. I double spaced this evening, sweet, cause it is very late and I’m sort of anxious to hit the hay. Darling, if only I could draw you oh so close, and whisper in your ear how much I adore you. 

Your Eve

Sept. 15, 1944

Dearest Phil,

At long last I bought the pyrex bottles and a half dozen nipples and I shall mall the package off to you tomorrow morning along with a box of salt water taffies that Ruth got for you. The rain broke today and we had sunshine galore, which was mighty welcome.

There has been no mail for three days now and I'm looking forward to receiving some either tomorrow or Monday. I am working for four hours tomorrow and then I shall have from tomorrow afternoon til Wednesday afternoon, which is exactly four days, I have a lot of things to do in the house, but I certainly hope to find time for a little recreation this time.

While purchasing the bottles and nipples I noticed some nice invisible hair nets and bought one for 10¢. Imagine my surprise to find it is made in England! I've taken to wearing a net more often to keep my hair neat. I also managed to get a 10¢ box of Kleenex and it's the first box I've been able to get in about four months.

It is very warm today and I can scarcely believe I had to wear my wool suit all week to keep warm. This is the weather for catching colds, but I aim to steer clear. This afternoon, just before quitting time, I had an opportunity to knock off a letter to Jack N. I sent one off to Jack S. yesterday morning and I'm almost completely caught up on my mail. It won't last long - It never does. But I feel better knowing I did what I could.

You know, honey, I like my job immensely for it is an interesting job. What I dislike is the uncertainty of it all and the strain of having to be at a certain place at such and such a time. However, that is how It is when you have a baby, so it isn't that much of a hardship. The thing most important is that I have peace of mind financially and, sweet, if only you knew what a relief that is to me! I don't mind anything as long as my peace of mind concerning money is clear. I'm very well satisfied with our income and though there are many things I should like to own I am content knowing that there is a possibility of my having all those things. I'm sure the knowledge that we have some money saved and that we'll be able to plan and do some of the things we want most to do is most pleasing to you, too. A long time ago I told you that as long as I had enough money to manage without having to skimp I would be satisfied. This should be ample proof.

I haven't had the opportunity to get a cold chain for the pretty piece you sent me, but I will, honey, I will! I always did want some sort of a locket and this is it. I have a desire to own something else, something I've always wanted - a wrist watch, a good one with a few little chips to match my rings. Just dropping a hint for some day when you can do some thing about it. I see I'm clean out of space so I’ll close with my usual I adore you, my darling and remain

Your Eve

Post #455 - September 13, 1944 Tonight, Ruth Mailed Ed Four Letters and Fairly Long Ones at That and I’ll Never Stop Appreciating You, Nor Will I Ever Take You For Granted.

 

Sept. 13, 1944

My sweet,

Just as I thought, it rained all day today for the second day in a row. The air is heavy with dampness and it is sticky and uncomfortable. The paper says more rain, but I hope it is wrong.

This morning (I guess Mom and Harry had a consultation) Mom told me to have the radio repaired and that she and Harry would pay the cost. However, I'm still going to take it to some other places to see if they, too, will charge $8.50. I neglected to tell you what was wrong with the radio. The whole trouble is merely two tubes, one of which is practically unobtainable except through black market, which, naturally, makes it costly.

I know where I can get pyrex bottles and I am going up tomorrow morning (providing it doesn't rain as hard as it's been raining these past two days ) to get them once and for all. Don't worry, dear, I won't forget the nipples.

I also forgot to tell you that I malled you a Jewish letter from Mom two days ago. Undoubtedly you'll get this before that arrives.

I'm glad you advised us not to be expecting mail from Ed. I assure you Ruth keeps the correspondence going strong. Tonight she mailed him four letters and fairly long ones at that.

I wore my suit to work every day this week thus far due to the rain and chilliness and believe me, honey, that suit has certainly served Its purpose. I enjoy it more than anything I have to wear and hope to be able to buy another before this winter is out. I get more wear out of such an outfit than anything else.

You know, I almost forgot to send along my wishes for a Happy New Year, so I hereby do so at this moment. Let's drink a toast to our reunion in ’45 - early ’45 if you please. I love you, my darling Phil, and can hardly wait for the day when I gather you close to me and love you with all that I've stored up within me these many months, I think I'd better sign off before I just evaporate, and I wouldn't want to evaporate til I had a chance to give you the love of

Your Eve

P.S. Sorry this has to be so short, but I’m really at a loss of words this evening—surprised!!!

13 September 1944 

Dearest One,

Your happy V-mail of 6 Sep, arrived this afternoon, and it is a welcome change from the glum letters you have been writing here of late. I gathered from it that you had written on the 5th but I haven't received that one yet. You must have received my longie about my visit to Eddie on that day, 'cause you voice no apprehension on his behalf. Moreover, your letter is just packed with news. First, you say you are going to write to the Woolfs, but that you will have to send the letter in my care. If I remember correctly I sent along their address in my next letter. Hope you find those pyrex bottles and nipples (they call them teats over here), First time I heard Evelyn call them that, I think I blushed—no kiddin!! 

I was wondering why you weren't sending me any more candy. You divulged the reason in today's letter. What you tryin’ to do, kid, thin me down by remote control? Seriously, honey, a bar of candy each day isn' going to make that much difference. Bet you pictured me eating the whole box at one sitting, didn't you? Besides, I'm only two or three pounds heavier than my usual 176 pounds, and expect to get rid of the excess playing ping-pong. Now will you send the candy? Please?

Was surprised to learn that Mickey Brown is already in France. He'll probably wind up in one of the great port cities there—like Cherbourg, or Brest or Le Havre. He'll be O.K.

Of course I hadn’t forgotten that day at Delaware Park you met Ace, may he rest in Peace, it had just slipped mind. I still feel badly about his loss—I had so counted on having him up to the house to play pinochle, etc. We used to have fun together, and through all the years of our friendship, there was never a cross word between us. I'll miss him.

Now that Adele has finished cutting her teeth, you should be getting more sleep, Chippie, and putting on a few pounds. By the way, what is your weight these days, Sweet?

In your last long paragraph you sound very much the proud mama. You point with pride to the fact that the punkin has “grown up overnight,” that you can carry on a conversation with her, and how cute she “looks in her upsweep" hair-do. (Hope you're staying away from the curls.) The thing that really amused me, though, was your annoyance at my habit of referring to her "fatness". We'll pass over the fact that I never used that adjective in speaking of the cheesecake. I may have made some allusion to her “fat little legs,” but I'm not admitting it. You are very painstaking in your efforts to convince me that she is not as “chubby" as she looks in her pictures, and that tickles me, too. (Don't ask me why. I could never explain it.) Don't fret yourself about it, honey. I'm sure that she is just as you say, and that none of her pictures do her justice. Her daddy is very proud of her, you may rest assured, and he is equally proud of her mommy, who has so efficiently performed the hard task of nurturing her through her infancy. When I consider the few years it took you to develop from an irresponsible kid to a loving wife and devoted mother, my pride and admiration in you knows no bounds. I know I've said as much on a few previous occasions, darling, but I want you to know that I'll never stop appreciating you. Nor will I ever take you for granted. You are wonderful, my Evie, and I could never say as much as I feel about that!

You'll excuse me now, I know, so I may get cleaned up in time to make the first show at the theater. The picture is "Murder in Thornton Square". I believe it goes under the title of "Gaslight” in the states, The principals are C. Boyer and I. Bergman, so I don't see how it can fail to be a good show Tell you all about it tomorrow, sweet. Hasta Mañana, then, carissima mia. My love to Adele—and all.

Devotedly,
Your Phil

P.S. Don't forget the candy—that's all.

September 13, 1944

Dear Phil,

No doubt you already heard from your wife that I had contacted her for your address. Also she discovered that she knows my brother and his wife and her family. She’ll tell you all about it. Our phone conversation was very amusing. I kept kidding her saying that I discovered you were my cousin. When I pay my brother a visit, I’ll try and stop to say hello to her and your baby. Very best wishes for a speedy peaceful New Year.

(Clara)

Post #454 - September 12, 1944 It is a Funny Feeling as You Realize Your Baby is Not a Baby Anymore and Don’t Forget for a Minute, Sweet, that Many Like Me are Dying So That Others Dreams May Come True

Sept. 12, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Have a little time and thought I'd start on my daily missive, I was delighted beyond words when I received no less than 4 (yes 4) letters all from you, sweet, dated Sept. 5, 6, 7, 8. That means the last letter is but four days old and brings you about as close to me as we can possibly be. There wasn't anything exciting about the contents, but they were enough to make me feel especially good. 

Here I am back home, Sweet, and with a bit of interesting news. This evening shortly after supper I was called to the phone. It was none other than Clara Wagner of S & D inquiring after you. She wanted your correct address, as S & D plan to send packages to all the boys as last year. During the course of our conversation I learned that she is Mollie Reisner's sister-in-law and we were both surprised. Clara said that she was going to kid everyone in the place and tell them that you and her were related, since we know the Reisners so well. I asked her to dinner and she will be up some night in the near future. I also asked her whether or not she could obtain the combevita pills for me and she said she would. I don't know if I told you that the government got after all concerns making vitamin pills and put a ceiling price on them, which, in turn, lowers the price of combevita from what you used to pay wholesale ($2.16) to $1.68 per hundred. She advised me to get a bottle of 500, but I told her I wanted to try them first and then would buy the bottle of 500. She also told me that S & D have a new system. They no longer deduct from the employees pay for merchandise purchased - they have a store on the premises, for employees only. This same bottle of 100 combevita pills costs $3.33 in the drugstores.

I also heard that Carl Furr is in N. Y. on furlough from N. Africa. Ethel and Al were in N. Y. to visit his Mom's grave and that's how I know about it.

I learned that Ruth didn't mail off that letter she wrote you describing the things she bought Adele, as someone spilled ink all over it. So, honey, I shall describe them here and now. #1 - a pair of good dubonnet corduroy jodhpurs that set her back exactly $3.69 that fit to perfection. #2 - a dark powder blue jersey with long sleeves and two white buttons on the left shoulder. The round neck fits closely, as only the better jerseys do and no wonder - it cost her $1.29. It also has two little white scottie dogs on the chest. #3 - a lovely white blouse that would have cost $2.98, but she got it through the people she was with for $2.45. It has a square neck of Grecian lace (white) and six pleats down the front. The sleeves are very puffy and there is a narrow belt that tie around the waist to keep the blouse in place. It will be positively adorable with the cotton plaid skirt Mrs. Bader made for her. #4 - a two way doll of rag, one side a colored doll wearing an Aunt Jemima hat piece and a red print dress of the same material, the other side, a demure white doll wearing a blue print bonnet tied with red ribbon and a blue print dress. #5 - a sweet smelling cake of Castile soap shaped as a fish that I particularly like the odor of.

It's been raining all day long and looks very much like it's going to keep up all week.

By the way there is a part of one or your letters I wish to take exception with. Just because I wrote that Dolly gets $90 per month from Gotham is no reflection on my outlook of finances, I didn't write anything about Billy cause there isn't anything I could write about him. I asked about him several times and only learned that he had been stationed down South. I thought it mighty nice of Gotham to pay his wife that amount. When you consider that the government only pays a wife $80 it is something. And besides they must think a helluva lot of Bill to pay his wife that amount. I only wrote it because I thought it unusual for a company to pay a wife so much and didn't like the attitude you took. Next time I'll just keep my letter than much shorter and avoid such comments.

Our next door neighbors moved in today, having had the house completely redone. They put in new fixtures all over the place and have a lovely crystal chandelier in the dining room. It will really be gorgeous when they get done with it. I can't wait til we will be able to do the same. This whole house needs a painting from ceiling to floor and inside out. There'll come a day—

I've started to comb Adele's hair with a part on the left side and completely combed back, instead of the usual pile in the center of her head. She doesn't look very much like a baby anymore, but a regular little girl and it is a funny feeling, as you realize that your baby is not a baby anymore.

Adele has been sleeping fairly well of late and usually (not always ) sleeps til 7:15 or 7:30, which gives me a chance to sleep now and then. I find it difficult to get to bed much before 11 so I manage to get my 8 hours of shuteye.

And now, precious one, it is time to say good-night once more. If only I could say it to you in bed after - - -

I've loved you. HO - fooled you didn't I! No, you were right, sweet, and I am

All ways
your Eve

P. S. Did you know that Clara was related to the Reisners? I think it's high time you sent off a letter to S & D, don't you?

12 September 1944

My Darling,

Another very busy day for me. I started on the payroll first thing this morning, and by working steadily on it, managed to get it done by 6:00, when I went to supper. After supper, I challenged Sinneway to a game of ping-pong. Before I was through, I had played Sinneway (and beat him), Chumley (who beat me), and Lowry (who won one out of four games). Not a bad evening for yours very lovingly. I managed to work up a good sweat, and I figure it won't do me a bit of harm if I lose a coupla pounds by playing regularly. Now I'm all washed up (I mean I washed myself, of course), and am all set to answer your last three V-mails. They are dated 1, 3, 4 Sep.

On the 1st, you had not heard from me for eight days - at least that's what you say, but, checking back, I find that you were feeling “unusually good" ’cause you had received two of my letters on the 28th! Tsk! tsk! Better learn to add or subtract - or sumpin. And, NO, I definitely am not in France!!!! You sound mighty impatient, honey. Better calm down again, 'cause it looks like it may be quite awhile yet before "R" day. Then again, it may not be more than a few months yet. However it may turn out, Sweet, please keep your patience well in hand. Sooner or later there'll come a day— 

Your puzzlement at the fact that Ed wrote once from hospital and then stopped writing, is understandable, but you must know now the reason for it!

Bet Sy hated to go back to base ofter his ten days at home.

You didn't write on the 2nd cause you were “depressed" (that's a new reason for not writing - I must remember it).

On the 3rd, you were still concerned cause you hadn’t received mail. You say Dot refused your invite to “come out and sleepover" because she didn't want to leave her mother alone. That beats me! How anyone can turn down an offer to “sleep over" with you is just beyond me, that's all! Wish you'd ask me sometime! Lady, I'd not only sleep over, but under, side-by-side, and every other way of can think of - and I can think of plenty - know what I mean? You do? Why, Evelyn—!

On the 4th you inform me that your grandmother passed away. Guess I'm supposed to say something appropriately sympathetic, but I'm afraid the only sympathy I can offer you, dear, is that she wasn't the kind of person you would have wanted her to be. She did nothing in her lifetime to earn your love or respect, and her reward is that she died unlamented by anyone.

Glad to learn that Mom was expected home on the 4th. Maybe she'll get off that letter she owes me now.

That little incident you recount about Adele and “Harry eat”  gives me an inkling of how fast my punkin is growing up, and makes me realize just how much I am missing these days.

What is wrong with Betty's brother (isn’t his name Abe?) that he is being discharged on a CDD? In the next breath you want to know if “it” is “still far away,” the “it” meaning, I assume, my homecoming. I wish I knew, honey, but I don't even have an idea on the subject. You see, so many things must come to pass before I can take it for granted that I am going home. However, I just can't feel too pessimistic about the prospects. The enemy seems to be failing rapidly on all fronts, and our boys over there are doing everything they can to hasten the process of dissolution. Everything depends on their success, Sweet, and since they are risking their lives in the effort to end the war for all of us, I think it's very bad taste to “chafe at the bit." The least we, who only wait, can do is to wait as patiently and quietly as we are able, and to appreciate the efforts being made in our behalf. Don't forget for a minute, Sweet, that many like me are dying so that others’ dreams may come true. Remember it always - and be properly humble, that you may be worthy of the eventual return of

Your adoring Phil

 

Post #453 - September 11, 1944 It is Surprising That I Can Find Time for Everything Somehow, Isn’t It and I Lay Down to Grab About 40 Winks—and Didn’t Wake Up ’Til I’d Grabbed About 40 Thousand

 

Sept. 11, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart

Received yours very lovingly of Sept 2 and 4, one of which contained the brooch. It is lovely and I shall get a chain for it first chance I get. Theresa suggested that I make a pin out of it, which is also a good idea. Thanks so much, honey, and if only I could hug and kiss you for it! I can anyhow, if you'll use your imagination a bit. By the way, sweet, I have another request for an 8th Air Force insignia from Ruth. If you can get one for her I'd like her to have it; if not, well that's that.

Phil, our little radio is deader than a doornail. It stopped playing several days ago and it will cost $8.50 to have it fixed. I had decided to sell the radio rather than pay that price to have it fixed, but I don't feel that it is worth $8.50 to have repaired. I could get a good price for it now and we could buy a white cased radio after the war for our bedroom and a large one for the living room. I seldom have the opportunity to play or even listen to the radio and Mom and Harry being the only two that derived any pleasure from it I thought perhaps they might chip in just a wee bit to ease the cost to me. Since such is not the case I'm not particularly fond of expending a large sum of money at the present time. My dad has promised to take it to several places to try to have it repaired at a lesser cost and if he is successful then, and only then will we have a radio in the house. Would you want me to sell it or hold on to it, sweet? Since it is yours, as well as mine, and a wedding gift in the bargain, I though it best to ask your advice. Adele once knocked it over when Mom was taking care of her, and she broke the handle on top and one of the knobs which is used to regulate the stations. Otherwise, nothing was wrong for the radio has been playing all along. I shall wait to hear from you.

I also just completed a letter to Evelyn and Bert. Since I do not have the bottles or nipples, I told them I would send them along if I could get them and if not, that I would appreciate if they would request something else for the baby. I have so little time to really shop, honey, or to do many of the things I would like to do.

I broke the ice last night by taking in a movie. I treated Ruth to a movie and some ice-cream at Ben's. The picture, “White Cliffs of Dover" was excellent, but left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. How can one person endure so much! I don't recall if you saw the picture. Did you? Irene Dunne was the star.

Phil it is positively uncanny the way we think of the same things at the same time. For instance, your letter of Sept. 4th warned me not to expect you home directly after the war in Europe ends. I think you will find that I wrote about that very same subject just about the time you did. It hurts so much to know that, Phil, and I could cry and cry and cry about it. However, we shall wait and see exactly what is going to happen. If you have to, you have to - -

We had a censored letter from Seymour today, care of Fleet postoffice N.Y. saying that he had been assigned to the U.S.S. New Yorker. I wonder where he'll wind up?

I had a flock of letters both Sat. and today from Syd, Phil, Glo, Jack N. and Milt. Phil has been transferred from Tacoma, Wash. to Atlanta, Ga. where he will attend a surgical technician school for three months. As he said, "Pop said I had mazel and I do". In case you want to write to him, his address is Pfc. P. S. 33.310,990, Lawson Gen. Hospital (ST school). Atlanta, Ga.

Jackie didn't say much, except that he was seeing a lot of Marilyn and that nothing is definite. yet. He'll probably write to you shortly. I owe him a letter, but want to wait til a duplicate set of the snaps is ready.

Syd wrote the usual letter and said he wasn't mad that I hadn't written all this time. I'm going to try to get a letter off to him tonight, if time allows. It's pretty late already.

Glo informed us that she will visit us Sept. 23rd (I wonder if you recall that particular date) and asked me to reorder some of this stationery for her.

Milt wrote the nicest letter I've had from him since he went overseas. They had moved out of the jungle onto a beach and had some decent food and a cot to sleep on for the first time in a long while. He killed several more Japs. He says the natives there are a big help, carrying their food and supplies for them.

You ask me in your letter to tell you how it feels to hug Adele "for the third time". It's hard for me to put it down on paper, but, honey, I will say that next to love of man and woman and their embrace there is no more beautiful feeling than the arms of a child. She is soft, smooth and very cuddly not to mention responsive. She loves to love and isn't at all bashful. She hugs me very tightly and kisses me on the lips just as you would. Now, ain't you jealous, Sweet?

Ruth and I got the biggest kick out of Adele last night. After her bath I let her lie on our bed and Ruth and I joined her. We sang to her for a little while, until she started to sing herself (uh uh a baby) and suddenly Ruth broke the silence. I said, Ruth, shut up and Adele piped in with the exact same words. It sounded so funny coming from her and since neither of us heard her say it before, we both burst out laughing. She also says "top it" for stop it. What a kid! Phil, if only I knew you'd come home soon - - -

Gloria complained that Jack does not receive enough mail from home. On this particular occasion I mentioned that Glo writes to Jack as often as I write to you and that you never get any mail from us at home. There are always excuses, excuses that just make me mad at times.

I promised to make Diana an outfit and intend to start just as soon as Goldie selects the wool. Goldie says she has no patience to knit, but I reminded her that I don't have the time or the patience, but no one will do it for me, which quieted her, but good. I'm most anxious to make the baby a nice outfit, especially in view of the generosity of her family as well as Harry and Goldie, and it is surprising that I can find time for everything somehow, isn't it.

I didn't get to bed til 12 for the past few nights and since I fully intend to get some semblance of sleep tonight I'm going to sign off right this minute. I worked as usual today - things are very routine at the office. Phil would you want me to work til you come home and perhaps for a short while after til we were settled financially or quit before you come home? I was wondering what you thought about it. I'd like to know where we stand before I give up this job with it's favorable hours - but we'll leave that up to you too. Baby, I love you so much I just don't know what to do or say. Darling - -

Your Eve

11 September 1944 

Dearest Evvie,

First I must explain why I didn't write yesterday. The truth is - after a pretty hectic day, I lay down to grab forty winks - and didn't wake up 'til I'd grabbed about 40 thousand. I was as mad about it as you must be, ’cause I'd received your long typed letter of 28-29 Aug 44 and your V-mail of 1 Sep that afternoon, and I had fully intended answering them in the evening. Please accept my apology, Sweet - and I'll try to make it up to you here.

Your V-mail of 3 Sep arrived this afternoon, so now, I have three of your letters to answer. Before I go into that, I flatter myself you'd like a few sentences about what I’ve been doing these past coupla days. Well - yesterday found me pounding the typewriter practically all day on a miscellany of letters, forms, etc. You already know how I wasted the evening—please, no recriminations, now! Today - same thing. I was busy typing from 8 A.M. ’til well into the afternoon. Afterwards, I played eleven games of ping-pong on our new table against five different opponents and won them all, which explains why I’m in a pretty good humor right now. Another factor influencing my rather mellow mood, is that we had ICE CREAM at supper for the first time in about seven months. It wasn't very good, as ice-cream goes, but who can be fussy after so long a time without it? Mentally, I’m pretty tired right now (do you sense it?) but I'm fighting off the desire to relax until I finish this. Now, let’s see what your letters call forth.

You were feeling "unusually good” when you wrote on the 28th due to the fact that you had received a couple of my letters that day. You explain that Mom and Harry and Goldie wanted to help me out in the bond drive, but just didn't get around to sending the money. It's good to know their intentions were good, but good intentions didn't raise our total one little bit!

But I don't intend to re-open the subject. You say that Harry made a “terrible stink" when you went back to work. He might have had some justification for his objections if you had left the punkin on Mom’s or Goldie's hands, but since you were forced to leave her in your Mom's care, I can only say he had a colossal nerve in even venturing an opinion. As to that, I have a few opinions that I never aired cause I didn't want to start any dissension among you, but don’t for a minute, Chippie, think that I am entirely unaware of what goes on back there or that I am forgetting it. Don't even give a second thought to the possibility that we will live anyway but alone once I get back. 

You declined to answer my letter of the 20th Aug as I had asked you to, but you asked me to “remind“ you to do so "sometime". - Well, I'm reminding you. Sure would like to hear what you have to say on the subject, Sweet. 

Then - you tell me all about your visit with Mike and Frances and Norma. I enjoyed reading about it, honey, and I'm glad you had a nice time. I certainly would like to see those "movies" Mike made of you and the cheesecake, but I guess it will have to wait for the duration plus—, ’cause I don't know where I could get my hands on an 8 mm projector. Have you invited them up to visit “us"? I haven’t had a reply to my letter to Mike, but if I don't hear from him within the next few days I'll write again and thank him for the good time he showed you and the punkin. By the way, how old is Norma?

Adele's new trick of saying "daddy, dear" intrigues me and makes me wonder if she enunciates the "r" in dear" (Why do I pick on these inconsequentials"?) I didn't think that 8th Air Force pin I sent you would make such an impression. Truth to tell, I've seen prettier ones, and I mean to send one along for Mom as soon as I can get into town to see Bert. He sells them. Makes me wonder how that brooch I sent along will strike you. You want to know what I think about that table and chair set for Adele - - I already knew that you had bought it, but it sounds like a good idea, anyhow.

I got an idea that Snuffy, being an experienced machinist, will wind up in an Ordnance outfit - at least, he should.

You say he wired from St. Louis, and then (naively) "Guess he’s headed for the west coast - er sumpin'," - And then, because you “haven't time to start another page this evening,” you ended your letter - rather abruptly. But I'm not complaining, sweetheart, ’cause it was quite a long one, and made delightful reading.

Sorry, honey, but I must sign off now, ’cause the guys are all in their “sacks" and clamoring for me to put the lights out. Just want to remind you that I love you very much, and that I'm keeping our "date" faithfully. My dearest love to the punkin. My love to all! Remember me to the Frommers. Good-night, baby mine - snuggle up close - closer - that’s it - ’night, Sweet.

Lovingly,

Your Phil

Sept. 11, 1944

Dear Phil,

Well, the army finally got me! I guess you have known for quite a while now. As you can see I am at Camp Claiborne, La. and if there is one place I don't want to be is down here. The sun is hot and l do mean hot and we just can't go through a day without having a good rain. You take your clothes off wet from perspiration and put them on again in the morning just as wet as when you took them off. You can't wear underwear twice even if you want to. That means that I have a good wash every week. I can't give it to the laundry as you never get back what you give them.

I hear Evvie hasn't heard from you in quite a while, so l guess that you are now in France, behind the lines I hope.

I was supposed to start basic today but went on sick call instead. I can see two black spots with my right eye whether it is open or closed and wanted to find out what caused it. All I got out of that was some drops. If that doesn't help which I don't think it will, l'll keep going back until I found out just what is wrong.

I had a nice trip coming down here from New Cumberland and had a five hour layover at St. Louis. I took a walk around the town and say they have a damn nice U.S.O. club there. I had played ping pong with one of the boys for an hour and got in a little dancing at the same time.

Well Phil let me know what is doing with you as I would like to correspond with an old friend like you.

The one and only Snuff.