Post #522 - December 2, 1944 I Get Particularly Blue When I Must Dress Up and Go Out Without You and As for V-2, I Can Say That I Wasn’t Too Far Away on the One Occasion When I Heard One Explode and Two Letters from Jack Nerenberg

 

Dec. 2, 1944

My Darling,

Your letter of Nov. 13th came through this morning, informing me of your intention to see Harry W. and that you expect to take furlough. By the way, does this furlough decrease your chances for a furlough back to the States? Just curious?

Today, though the sun shone brightly, it was positively freezing out. It was the sort of cold you just can't stand for more than a minute at a time. Even in the sun, which was as bright as ever, it was freezing.

I worked my usual four hours, shopped for some pretzels, potato chips, etc. for Adele's party tomorrow and came directly home. I stopped at a neighborhood store to get Adele some warm underwear and the only thing they had was some panties. I paid 59¢ for one pair of panties and I'm sort of shocked at the size, which is size 8. They fit her perfectly. Of course, panties run in funny sizes, but that seems like such a large size to me. I'm very much in need of undershirts for her and Fay has promised to go into Blauner’s with me some evening so that I may buy all the little things I need for Adele, at the 20% discount. Those "little" items, sure do cost!! I also need socks, jerseys, sleepers and a few more little things.

As you know, tonight is the party for Richy. No one wants to go cause it is too cold, but I'm anxious to see Richy and so I'm going. I called Emma and we are going together. Tell you all about it tomorrow and all about the party, providing I get the opportunity to write. If not, well, I'll write all about it on Monday.

I'm going up to get dressed and I am going to wear my new lemon yellow dress. Gee, but I wish you were going along with me! I hate to go anywhere alone. Snuffy is coming in for the weekend for the last time, for he expects to ship out next week. I'm sorry they can't get up here for the party, for I feel very much as if they will be missing. It's funny how close we've gotten!

And now, honey, I must run, if I'm to go to the party at all. I intend to get back early, for I want to be rested tomorrow. I love you so much, baby, and I get particularly blue when I must dress up and go out without you. Good night, darling, I am and just love being

Your Eve

December 2, 1944

Dearest Evie,

After another busy day, I went to the first show. That just about covers “my day" today. The picture was "Ministry of Fear", with Ray Milland and Marjorie Reynolds. It was a good, suspenseful, spy story. I enjoyed it very much. Then, a bite at the Snack Bar, and back here to my hut to write this. I have a stack of your letters, that arrived within the last few days, to answer; and because it's rather late, I may not finish tonight, but I'll write as much as I have time for, and finish up tomorrow. 

The earliest letter is dated 6 Nov. Here goes: I learned, right off the bat, that Vicki Paula was born on 5 Nov. I've already mailed off a letter to Etta and Nat. You say that you feel better for having written that “longie” of 5 Nov. I'm glad for that, anyway, honey. It does pays sometimes, to get things off your chest. I only hope my letter in reply causes you no more aggravation, las I fear it might). You say you wrote to Gloria on the 5th. I received one from her today - also dated 5 Nov.! That's what I would call reciprocation with a vengeance! By the way, what's the opposite of a “vicious circle”? The rest of this particular letter requires no comment. 

Your contribution on the 7th begins with the good news that Snuffy was scheduled to go to the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Now, that's what I would call a swell break. It just so happened that his letter informing me of the same happy circumstance arrived by the same post. He also told me how good it was to have Dotty with him. I am glad for both of them. Your second paragraph informed me that you had voted for the first time, and for F.DR., at that! That's getting off on the right foot all right, all right! In reply to your query, I can say "You bet I voted - way before election day, by absentee ballot.” You didn't finish this letter on the 7th, but continued it on the 8th, at which time you express your satisfaction that Pres. Roosevelt was re-elected. You were right in assuming that I was happy about the whole thing, too. Your next sentence made me start, It informed me that Eddie S. "is now in France.” When I think how close I came to traveling way out to Wales to see him, not knowing that he was in France, I'm grateful that circumstances prevented it. Maybe I'll see him in Paris in the spring - maybe - who knows? - So now you're doing book-keeping, too! Well, well, seems there's no end to your versatility, honey. The last few paragraphs are devoted to telling me how badly you feel about the slow delivery of my letters. I'm sorry, Sweet, but just keep your chin up, it'll catch up with you eventually. That's about all I have time for tonight, darling, so I'll just wish you a fond good night, for the time being. I love you very much, Ev, dearest. A kiss for Adele.

3 December 1944 

Hello again, darling! I don't care much for a “serial" letter such as this one is, but sometimes one has no choice.

I was very busy all day today. What with "Soldier's Deposits, Company History, and a few other things, I had my hands full. "Dumbo" is at the base theater tonight, but I passed it up for a nap between 5:00 and 7:30. I was tired! Today's mail brought your V-mail of 14 Nov, telling me that Eddie is home at last - well, near home, anyway, I'm awaiting further details. But let's get on with answering the rest of your mail - I hope! Let's see now - the next letter was started on 9 Nov. when you wrote three short paragraphs at work. Then you didn’t get to write ’til the next day. That was the day you visited Lil to deliver her birthday gift. The powder sample I had requested was enclosed in this letter. I think it has a lovely odor. Il now reposes in my wallet, next to that lock of Adele's hair that you sent me last year. Thanks, Baby. You closed with a query about how V-1 and V-2 "effect" us. What you probably meant, Sweet, was "affected” us. I am permitted to say very little about this, Chippie, but so far they have affected us not at all - as you can plainly see, Nor do I think we have much to fear from either of them here. I have seen and heard quite a number of buzz-bombs, but I can't say under what circumstances. As for V-2, I can say that I wasn't too far away on the one occasion when I heard one explode. That was when I was on my way back to base after seeing the Limey. (Sure would like to know where he is now!) Nothing else in this one to talk about. Next, your V-mail of 12 Nov.

It was all about the party in honor of Vicki Paula. Glad you had such a good time, Sweet, only next time you feel like telling me you had to ride on some male’s lap - please think better of it. I know it is silly of me to mind, but I do. I just squirm at the thought of it. I’m not blaming you, Sweet, for something that is my fault, I’m merely telling you this so that you will think twice before writing in that vein again. I'm very glad that everyone complimented you on your appearance. That, I love to hear.

And now, I'm afraid I must sign off again. It's time for “lights out,” Need I say that I am keeping our “date” at this very moment? My dearest love, Sweet, to you and the punkin. Love to all from

Your Phil

Dec. 2, 1944

Dear Evelyn,

It has troubled me for days; the problem of a birthday gift for Adele. Now it’s come and gone and I’ve done nothing concrete. Believe me though when I tell you that last Saturday while I was in Oklahoma City I went to the kid’s department of a nice store. Okla. City is a pretty rich place and the prices are exhorbitant. I know you could do a lot better with a tenner in Philly than I could here, so here ’tis. And please Ev when you start worrying about mine, remember that I’d want nothing better than a hair brush and will accept nothing else. You can deliver it in person when you come to visit me in N.Y. while I recuperate from the ear operation I’m undergoing Dec. 27, that Dr. Lempert is going to do.

I hope you’re all well as am I. Cripes I weigh 15 pounds more since I stopped smoking Sept. 20th, and I keep gaining. If this keeps up I’ll have to start again. Boy would I love it. My love to you all.

As ever,

Jackie

December 2, 1944

Dear Phil,

I received your most welcome letter. As always, it was a thrill merely to finger the envelope in keen anticipation of absorbing its contents. I wasn’t disappointed.

Phil, in a remote way I sensed what you inferred in relation to your family and you and yours. But to learn that it is significant enough for you to convey to me by written word, that was quite a shock. Phil, I wouldn’t dare say what I am going to if your perceptions couldn’t embrace the thought as from my heart and for the good of yours. I know they will, so here goes:

If Adele has any brothers or sisters or both and if they are taught money principles as have been you and Harry and Jack, then that won’t be good, either. ’Nuff said.

Phil, your letter came a full a month after you dated it. I received it at Borden General Hospital, Chickasha, Oklahoma. I imagine Ev has given you the play by play description. The final score will be this. By March of 1945 I will hear almost normally if all goes well. If it won’t be that way I hope I can tell you in person that the operation worked a little slower for me. In March I will still be here, having returned for observation after being operated on and treated by Dr. Lempert in N.Y.

What you said about Marilyn and me I appreciate very much. Had I received your letter there at Camp Hale I don’t think I could have resisted the urge to show it to her. However, I didn’t receive it there so I don’t know how much it might have altered the strained relations between us at the time due to her inability to decide whom it was she wanted most to please, me or her parents. It had by that time become very obvious that she couldn’t do both. When I left we had been hitting it off fairly well. I was quite gloomy about it all. Now it seems as though we’re quit of each other. Since that seemed quite apparent I entertained no compunctions about escorting a very lovely lady in these parts that says my company is indeed enjoyable to her as is hers to me. I know you think I don’t know my mind. Maybe. But here’s how I look at it. Look at all the experience I’m getting. Brother, I’m going to end up as happily married as you. Wait and see.

Phil, I’m glad you have accepted Denver. When Ev forwards your letter to me—

Phil, as I’ve done before and will do again I set your letter aside for twelve days. I’ve since received your letter pertaining to postwar Denver plans. Phil, it sounds swell. I don’t think your dope on the amount of capital we can raise is correct. If the amount is correct, then the method of getting it must be damned near impossible. However once we get set and have decided to adopt your plan, nothing will stop us.

Here though is the barrier. I am not married. You cannot depend on me until I am. I wasn’t going into a discourse on the subject but I’m afraid I shall have to.

Did it ever occur to you that I am scared of marrying as did Sam and Ann and Len and Lea. I am thankful now in the new light that that affair between Frances (remember on the beach when I told you about it) and me did blow up. I say I am scared because I’m afraid I’d be bored too soon after the sexual angle became taken for granted. You see, I am different from Sam and Len. My life has been in a world different from theirs and Ann’s and Lea’s.

I’ve known and still know three girls, either one of whom I’d marry because their intelligence matches or exceeds mine, but more important, because their college degrees assure me that such are their minds that they’ll be active on that score for many years to come. Don’t misunderstand, I know that a girl that never saw the inside of a high school might be a lovelier person than all three. Here’s what I’m driving at. Two of these girls, Marilyn and Adeline, attracted me immensely. There was something about them that made each date a thing of beauty and interest and continuous humor. Only after several dates with each did I learn of their background. Adeline’s Mom and Dad even hold degrees. Adeline is a swell girl and lots of fun. But Phil, I’m almost positive that we couldn’t hit it off sexually. I’m sure I’m afraid to take a chance. Hence I’m trying, now while I’m in New York to dim our affair down to a friendship stage. (I’m in New York writing from the hospital since this ink turned blue.)

Marilyn, you know about. The last is Marjorie. She isn’t pretty as either but she has everything. Marjorie is my speech teacher. She’s 24. If we can work things out, we’re trying, we’ll be married this year.

If you’re puzzling among other things about what I’d be doing with a speech teacher, it’s this. Speech is part of a course given at Borden General Hospital where I was between October 14 and December 20, 1944, in Chickasha, Oklahoma. You see that’s one of three hospitals in the States that receives deafened patients. Mostly they are combat casualties. Many are like me. There is a definite procedure in these cases consisting of classes in lip reading, classes in auricular training (how to listen) and classes in speech. All that plus being fitted with the hearing aid that suits the patient best. Then after two months which included the above 95% are discharged.

I, after being routed there from Camp Hale when the engineer board closed down, was indignant. All I wanted was leave to get the Lempert operation and godamit nothin’ else. They calmed me down and promised me a 30 day sick furlough after two months of their special treatment. That’s how I met Marjorie. That’s how I got here. I’ll try for a 15 day extension which I need for treatment by Lempert in the last phases of ear drainage due to the operation. At some later date I’ll write more to you about both the results of the operation and Marjorie. Incidentally when I mentioned Phil Strongin to her and what I thought of the bum she said “I hope he doesn’t call me Marilyn.”

As ever,

Jack

P.S. I’m eleven days past the operation. Just the merest bit dizzy, and going to Sam and Anne Monday. Today is Saturday, January 6, 1945. May this be the year you all come home.

P.P.S. I return to Borden Hosp. around Feb. 1st.

My address is

Ward C-12

Borden General Hosp.

Chickasha, Oklahoma

Post #521 - November 30, December 1, 1944 Surely My Mom Doesn’t Deserve Such Treatment, After All She’s Done for Our Benefit and We Really Had a Feast

 

Nov. 30, 1944

Dearest Phil,

There were two things more I meant to say in yesterday's letter: If you will recall it rained all day the day Adele was born. Her birthday, yesterday, was the exact same sort of a day - It poured all day long. I also forgot to mention that my mother and daddy have also gifted Adele with $10.

Most important of all, however, is the fact that Adele awoke this morning without a single trace of the fever that had gripped her so suddenly yesterday. However, she was kept on a strict liquid diet, just so nothing further would result. I went into work as usual and had a rather tough day. Statements, for my part, are only a big pain in the rear. I'm always immensely relieved when the first is over.

Adele slept soundly last night and I, too, had a good night's rest. I took her temperature first thing in the morning and it was normal. Boy, was I glad she was normal!

Ethel had a letter from Harry W. today dated Nov. 22nd, telling of your visit. The last letter I had from you was dated Nov. 11 - So that's the mails for you, I'm most anxious to have mail from you now, to learn the details. For that matter, so is Ethel. She says you never can learn anything when Harry writes a letter and she wants me to let her read your letter concerning your visit, so that she may know all the details.

Clara Wagman called me this evening to thank me for the birthday card I sent her. It was really a lovely card "for a dear friend" and she couldn’t get over the sentiments. I asked her why she doesn't come up and collect the money I owe her for the bottle of 500 Combevitas and she said she wasn't worried, that the money was good whenever she chose to call for it. She also said that she would drop you a few lines.

I had to interrupt this letter long enough to help my mother hang some clothes that she is washing for us. It is after 11 and I'm pretty well exhausted and ready for bed. The clothes are presenting a problem, what with Goldie washing every day and the inability to hang them outside. Goldie had to take all her clothes down and put them on the radiators to dry, so we could hang the towels, sheets, etc. Phil - - - I guess she's just as disgusted as I am at times,

Rae has to work this Sunday, though she wanted very much to be present when Adele saw the birthday cake, which is Rae's gift. So, she's coming here direct from work and won't get here until 10 in the evening. I’m trying to get a group of girls together for the evening. More tomorrow, sweetheart. You know, sweetness, I adore you more with the passing days -

Your Eve

Dec. 1, 1944

Phil, dearest,

There is just ten minutes before closing time, and since I'm completely finished with all my work, I thought I'd take advantage of the break by starting my letter to you. I'm anxious to know if there was any mail for me, but I'll know soon enough.

Last night Harry and Goldie must have had a domestic battle, for I overheard the following. Whether Harry meant it or not remains to be seen "I'm disgusted hearing you (Goldie) complain. Tomorrow I'm going to start looking for a place and we're gettin' the hell out of here". Goldie, “Keep quiet". That, sweet, ought to give you a pretty good idea of how they feel, too.

Some people have their guts and I don't mean maybe! When you consider that I'm never home, except for early morning and late evening and Sundays and that Goldie has more or less free run of the house and that she does not do half of what I did, then you have a pretty good idea of how disgusted I am with the whole setup. I'm sure, however, that Goldie realizes that she couldn't find a better setup for herself anywhere, and is only keeping quiet until the time when she can get into housekeeping without any difficulties, such as presents themselves today.

Phil, in case you haven't given it a second thought, it would be a most excellent idea for me to give up the house. First - we would be free of any ties whatever once you return and could do whatever you wish in the way of traveling, business, etc. Second - we would not have any expenses, and those that we would have would be small. When we were established, we could then set up housekeeping without any real hardships. If I held on to the house I'm sure Harry and Goldie would beat it first chance they got and I don't feel that we'll be able to upkeep the house on our own at first, alone.

I can't do anything definite at the present time, for two reasons: My mother and dad are tied up in court with this estate business and they would need an opportunity to paint, paper and have the house redone. My mother is most anxious to have the house redone so that it will be in good condition when Eddie returns.

Phil, I just can't see my mother working as hard as is her custom and I'm sure if I were with her, things would be much easier for her all around,

Last night, for instance, it was simply freezing cold and she had to wash the clothes and drag each basket back and forth. This "back and forth" business nearly killed me when I had to carry Adele's things back and forth, and I can't see the sense to continuing this way, Surely my Mom doesn't deserve such treatment, after all she's done for our benefit.

So, baby, I'm hoping very much that you'll see things my way. Once my mind is at rest and the decision is made, I'll explain the entire matter to Mom, H & G and ask them to take Mom with them until she can come back with us (providing she wants to later on - naturally the decision is hers) unless they decide to leave me first. Whatever the case, I'm sure no real action could be taken until about March.

There was no mail for me, though I doubted that I would get any. When you are traveling about, that usually means no mail for me.

Phil, I'd like very much to have a coat and legging set made for Adele. Dot had Harold's set made up and it came out very nicely. I would like to have solid gray leggings and a gray and white checked coat and hat. However, and since you have not had the opportunity to shop for anything Adele has worn, I'm giving you this opportunity to offer suggestions for her new outfit. I must warn you that I may not be able to fulfill them, that I may have to accept the materials offered by the tailor. In any event, give out, baby, for this is the chance for you to select Adele's outfit.

And, so, baby, I come to the end of another letter. Good night, darling, you know sumpin' - right - I love you that much!

Your Eve

December 144

Dearest Darling,

First, I must apologize for not writing last night. I was busy all day. In the evening, I thought I'd take in the first show and write afterwards, but when I got back to the hut after the show, I was hungry, so I called Red in and we proceeded to make a meal off the many good things in the package that I had received from S & D. By the time we finished, it was time for lights out and my letter went unwritten. However, t hope to make up for it tonight. The picture last night was a class "B" sort of thing, but very entertaining. It was titled "You can'l Ration Love". The stars were Betty Rhodes (very beautiful, in a girlish way, if’n you know what I mean), and Johnnie Johnston, a newcomer whose crooning is on a par with the best. Both have very pleasing personalities, and between them made the picture worth-while. In case you're wondering, sweet, S & D's package contained the following: tin of anchovies, box of cheese,  tin of Treat (like Spam), tin of deviled ham, tin of potted meat, fruit cake, fudge, 2 jars of orange marmalade, cookies, hors d’oeuvres crackers. Everything was delicious, and we really had a feast, my hut-mates, Red, and myself. Incidentally, did I tell you that I received Etta's and Nat's package of food a few days ago? Well, we did away with most of that the same day I got it. This package contained pretty much the same things as the other, and were equally appreciated. There was a large Rum Brandy Fruit Cake that I am saving for Xmas Eve. I have Etta's and Nat's address and will write as soon as I get the chance. Tonight, I went to the movies again. This time the picture was "Our Hearts were Young and Gay,” from the book of the some name. It is a very amusing film, and I enjoyed some of the preposterous situations that Emily Kimbrough and Cornelia Otis Skinner got themselves into. Their roles are played by Diana Lynn and Gail Russell, and a swell job they did, too,

I've received quite a few of your letters these past few days, Sweet, but as it is pretty late in the evening, and the fellows are in bed and waiting for me to put the lights out, I don't think I ought to undertake answering them tonight. I will do so tomorrow, O.K.?

In the meantime, honey, know that I love and want you more as the time goes by. It is just 10:45, and by the time I get to bed it will be 11 o'clock - and I don't have to tell you of whom I shall be thinking at that time, or what intriguing memories I shall be conjuring up. - I adore you, Baby! My dearest love and a great big kiss for my other baby, our own Adele Bara. Love to all from

Your Phil

Post #520 - November 28, 29, 1944 They Are Throwing a Large Party This Coming Saturday for Richy Lieberman and Tell Me in the Most Minute Detail You Can Muster, Exactly What My Daughter is Like

 

PAGES MISSING

Nov. 28, 1944

My Own:

Your letters of Nov, 8 and 10 came through this morning and, naturally I was most happy to receive them. Your letters contained little for me to comment on, except Adele's birthday gift that you mention. So you intend to surprise me, eh! Well, I have an idea of what it may be, but I'm not telling you till I actually know what it is. I only mentioned that it was a month to Adele's birthday, cause I couldn't think of anything else to say at the time.

These are the most recent letters I've had to date and I'm looking forward to receiving them more regularly now.

I called Bob this evening to inquire about Richy and was told that they are throwing a large party this coming Saturday and that we are all invited. Bob says he's the same old Richy.



29 November 1944

Dearest Mommy,

It never occurred to me before now to wonder what Adele calls you. Because today is her second birthday, I found myself thinking about it, and thinking about it made me curious. Will you please oblige, Sweet? And what name do you call her by? I picture you using Adele when you are annoyed with her, but what do you call her when her sweetness makes your love for her well big in your heart? Do you indulge in corny appellations like “snookums" or "sweetie pie,” or do you have more original pet names for her? Does she know her own name? If so, how clearly does she pronounce it? And will she say it when someone asks her her name? There are so many things I want to know about her! Please, Chippie, sometimes when you have the time to spare, tell me in the most minute detail you can muster exactly what my daughter is like. Tell me how she looks, what she does and says the first thing in the morning; tell me how she plays, the things that amuse her, and the things that fill her with infant wonderment; tell me how she acts differently towards her Mommy than towards anyone else; tell me what evidences of affection she has shown you; tell me what things, if any, make her shy or embarrassed, and how she looks when she feels that way; tell me how she is bad, and how she is good; tell me what she asks you, and what she tells you; tell me how she greets you when you come home from work, and if you invariably ask her if she was a “good girl today,” and what she says to that; tell me the extent of her understanding, and the scope of her naiveté; tell me of her various subterfuges that she employs to try to get her own way: tell me the things she is afraid of, and the things that give her pleasure; tell me if she is clever with her hands; if she still has that predilection for using her left hand; tell me if her eyes are still that indescribable gray color that they were when I last saw her; tell me if her little legs are in any way abnormal in appearance; finally tell me what pleases you about her and what displeases you; what you love most about her and what you would most like to change. You see, darling, that there is so much about her that I don't know, and that I am deeply desirous of knowing, that you could write volumes on the subject trying to satisfy my curiosity. Will you try, Baby? I'd appreciate it deeply believe me! I can’t help wondering on this, her second birthday, how much longer we will be apart, the three of “us.” My feeling, hunch (call it what you will) is that it can't be very much longer, I think about four or five months more, at the outside. After being so long apart, honey, and because the time does seem to fly, (however inconsistent that may sound to you), I can regard the prospect of seeing you at the end of that time with perfect equanimity. Also, on this anniversary of our punkin’s birth, I am reminded once again of that day, exactly two years ago, when time stood still for me while I restlessly paced the hallways of the Anderson Hospital. I think I remember telling you about this time last year about all the things I felt and thought about then, so there is no need to repeat it here. I think I also told you then how proud and grateful I was, and how I loved you so much more for the grand way you deported yourself as wife, expectant mother and mother. But that last is something that I shall never cease appreciating in you, and that I shall make it a point to acknowledge when our punkin attains to another birthday. Know then, my beloved Ev, that my heart is overflowing this day with gratitude for my daughter’s mother, and love and admiration for my sweetheart, my wife, whom I consider has ever shown herself worthy of all the adoration I am capable of feeling. May God be good to you and our daughter. My prayers are for your continued well-being, my darlings. I live only for the day when I can be with you once again. I am nothing else than

Your loving husband and dad,
Phil

Post #519 - November 27, 1944 A Year That I Choose to Forget Forever and I Love and Admire Your Mother

 

Nov. 27, 1944

Dearest One,

It rained all day long. My mother and dad had to go to court today and I had decided to go to work, as Ruth was expected home from school early. Sarah had promised to put Adele to bed for me, and kept her promise. I got Into work at 12:45.

Stevens gave Rae four lots in Browns Mills and when the war is over they are going to build a bungalow out there.

Here's news: Richy Lieberman is back in the States, after three yours of overseas service. His APO, before he got back, was 637, your original number. Funny, isn't it.

Snuffy couldn't get home this past weekend, so Dot went down to camp to see him. Dot will be unable to come up for Adele's birthday, but will try to get up first chance she gets.

You asked about the garage in one of your letters. The fellows that rented it are boy scouts, doing their bit for Uncle Sam, and I'm sure they will be careful when it comes to starting fires. The $5 from the garage, Incidentally, isn't mine - it's more house money.

Last night I got to bed early, for the first time in weeks and had such a good night's rest, I actually feel like purring. I wrote to both Milt and Syd today, before going to work, and I hope to get a letter off to Jack N. within the next few days and I shall enclose your letter regarding your post-war plans.

Gee, honey, in just about five weeks, 1944 will be a thing of the past - a year' that I choose to forget forever. I sincerely hope it will be the only entire year we shall ever be separated again. Guess that proves that I'm expecting to see you in 1945, but I have a feeling that a good part of 1945 will pass before we can even contemplate a reunion. I learned a lot in 1944 that I shall never forget, elther, but each year always brings something in the way of knowledge.

Adele is playing in the living room with her doll and doll carriage. She looks cute in her royal blue corduroy overalls and powder blue long sleeve jersey. When night time comes, Adele informs me that "it's too dark outside." It's a bit past 7:30 (no doubt you are fast asleep) and it's time to bathe Adele and get her to dreamland. You ought to hear her sing "zing, zing, zing went the trolley" and "Happy Birthday to you"! She's so cute about everything sometimes I almost take a bite out of her. I sure do wish I could bite into you, sweet, for there is nothing I'd like better. I adore you, honey, and am

Your Eve

27 November 1944

Ev, Dearest 

At Last! Four lovely letters from you just arrived! They are your letters of 1 and 5 Nov., and your V-mails of the 12th & 13th. I’ll start right off by answering your letter of the 1st Nov. This one told me all about that new “lumberjack” dress that so puzzled me when you mentioned it in a later letter. Sounds nice, honey - wear it well! How’s about a picture, huh? (Notice how close I’m writing? That’s because I know this is going to be a real “longie” and I don’t want the envelope to bulge.) You say that you are having trouble sleeping these nights. That’s bad, Sweet, but since I don’t know what it is that is keeping you awake, I don’t know what to tell you to correct the condition. Sorry the mail is being held up again, Chippie, and I can certainly feel for you, but don't let it get you down. I am trying my best to write daily, although it isn’t always easy to do so, and I must say I haven't missed very often in these past few weeks. What surprised me no end was that you said nothing to indicate that Eddie is home. Surely, he must have arrived by the 12th or 13th when you wrote your V-mails! I can’t understand it! - unless you mentioned it in a letter I have yet to receive. So much for your letter of the 1st. Now I pick up your letter of the 5th - and what do I see? I see five closely-typed pages! Now that's what I call a letter! Too bad, though, Baby, that the subject matter couldn't have been happier. I guess you know, Sweet, that you have posed me a pretty stiff problem. I've thought over carefully everything you said, and I’m now ready to tell you what I think about the whole distressing business, and what course of action I would propose. But first, a few words about your unfavorable reaction to my post-war plans: Your reply to my suggestions was "a very definite NO." Then you go on to say that you "detected a million flaws, in the idea.” Then you expound on one of the “flaws", namely that "Do you for one minute, think I would sleep in boarding houses with Adele?" No, Baby, I didn’t for one minute consider that it would be necessary for you to do so, and I'm not thanking you for putting words in my mouth either. I'm sure you will agree that there are at least a few readily apparent ways to correct your so-called “flaw.” But I must say, Chippie, that I’m disappointed that you chose to make an issue of this particular point. I can't help feeling that you will be highly intolerant of any discomfort you may be called on to put up with temporarily while I am trying to “get ahead in the world." And I must confess, Ev, that if I cannot count on you to abide some discomfort with at least a show of cheerfulness (and we must take for granted that there will be such moments), then I am most reluctant to try “to get ahead in the world". You must realize, Sweet, that one does not get ahead without sacrificing something. Not that I take the view that sacrifice must of necessity be involved - but I must be sure that if there is a price to pay, that you will be willing to pay it without murmuring. As you know, darling, I am a most unambitious fellow myself. It is only because I know your predilection for worldly goods that I feel I must make the effort to attain them for all of us. Furthermore, you must remember that the idea was largely yours. But if you have thought better of it, then I’m perfectly willing to forget about it, although nothing you said in your letter tended to sway my judgment that it's a damned good idea. As a matter of fact, I am more convinced than ever that I could make a go of it, provided, of course, that I could count on you to give me moral support if nothing else. However, after some of the things you said in your letter, I’m inclined to be extremely doubtful if I could count on you for even that much. Lest you misunderstand, by “moral support” I mean, among other things, the willingness, if need be, to sleep in boarding houses with Adele!’ One other sentence in your letter tells me all I need to know about how you feel in this connection, I quote - "I hate to hurt you in any way, and you know that full well, Phil.” But one of the sentences in your letter hurt very deeply. You said that I would never have to “suffer privation in any shape or form being your wife. I hope not any more - for I feel that I've had more than my share of it already.” Well, Chippie, I must say I've read and re-read those few sentences a dozen times, mainly to try to understand why in the world my assurance that you would never suffer want as long as I had the strength to prevent it should "hurt very deeply." That beats me! As for the latter part of your statement, I can only say that I'm not particularly fond of the “martyred" tone you assume. You didn't have to make it so evident that you feel the world had treated you badly - even if you do feel that way. I'm more distressed than you might think that you feel this way, Chippie, because I can't help feeling that you'll feel even more "hurt if things don’t go exactly to your liking once I return. Not I, nor anyone else, can guarantee that you won't have to endure various disappointments even after I come home, but when, in all good faith, I try to assure you that I will do whatever I can to shield you from the "hard knocks" that you feel you have had your share of, and am told that my assurance "hurt very deeply; then I hardly know what to think! I get the distinct impression that your attitude is, in effect, "all right for you if I ever suffer again!" I've tried to read some other meaning into your words, Baby, but I can’t. Can you blame me, then, that I resent and am frightened by your expectation that I guarantee your future happiness? I shall do my best toward that end - you know that, sweet, but if I fail, in some measure of attaining Utopia, I reserve the right to hope that you will be as sporting about it as a good wife should. You must learn, my darling, to take the hard knocks of life with equanimity and tolerance, and never cease being thankful for the smallest blessing. That way, and that way only, lies true happiness. So, all in all, Ev, I don't think you're quite ready to pull up our roots in Philly to seek a better living elsewhere. I never dreamed that you were so fearful of your comfort, that out of the million “flaws" you mentioned you choose to give that one. You must tell me about the other 999,999 sometime. As for Mom's objections to my taking Jack N. as a partner, I'm just not interested in what she thinks. I'm old enough to think for myself, and I think she’d be both shocked and surprised to know some of the things I think. Your mother, I think, has the only valid reason for not wanting to see us go and I can readily understand and sympathize with her viewpoint. She, I am sure, is primarily interested in her daughter’s and grand-daughter's welfare and happiness. It is only natural for her, then, to want to see you firmly established, and being fiercely possessive, she has gone, and will go, to great lengths to keep you near her. I don't blame her one bit, then, for failing to see any merit in my scheme. To her, your security lies in being near her, so that, come what may, she can do her best by you. I love and admire your mother, Ev, and will always remember and be grateful for the fact that it was she who gave me the most precious things in my life. I need hardly enumerate them, but lest you think I’m not properly appreciative, I will enumerate them by way of acknowledgement: (1) You. (2) The means that made it possible for me to marry you. 3) A home for myself, my wife, and my family (even if the last were incidental). (4) All the joys that have been mine as a result of my marriage and my home. So you see, darling, I owe your mother a great deal. More, perhaps, than I shall ever be able to repay her. Moreover, did I but think for a minute that she would lose anything by our departure from 4906, I wouldn't even consider leaving, I think I once promised that I would live in 4906 as long as she wanted me to. Nor do I intend to go back on that promise if she chooses to hold me to it - hell, I don't consider that I am doing her any great favor by living there. Rather, I know that it is most generous of her to want me to continue to do so. Fortunately, I am not so blind to realities as my own family seem to be. And the truth is, darling that I would be perfectly content to remain at 4906 for a long, long time to come were it not for two reasons: (1) I don't think it would be quite fair to impose on your mother, who, after all, is entitled to a fair return on her investment, and is hardly getting it under the present arrangement. (2) My unwillingness to be tied to a definite locality because my home is there. Not yet, anyway, while I still don't know where my opportunity or living is. If, on returning home, I can find a decent job in Philly or if you would be content with what I might make at S & D, then I would be content - no, I would be happy to make 4906 my home. I would even want to buy it if your mother could see her way clear to sell it. However, I want it understood right here and now that I will only consider living there if (1) I can afford to pay the rental the place is worth, or (2) if I can buy it. Under no conditions will I consider staying on at the old rate. I feel that your mother has done enough for us already. It's time she looked to her own interests. I always felt rather guilty that she was depriving herself for our benefit, and I loved her for her generosity, but my conscience will no longer let me keep on taking without thought of return. I hope, Sweet, that my attitude is coming all clear now to your perceptions. I'm sure you have no grounds for finding fault with it. (Good-night for now, Sweet, I'll continue with this tomorrow - I love you, Chippie. A kiss for the punkin.)

28 November 1944 

Hello again, darling! 

Nothing of interest happened to me today, so I'll continue where of I left off last night. Now where was I? Yes, I was coming to your own current problem -. Your differences with my family is not, of course, new to me. Your exposition of the difficulties and aggravations involved in living with them only confirms what you have long given me reason e suspect - namely, that all is not quiet on the home front. I'm flattered no end, Ev, that you trusted me to understand the issues involved. I want you to know that I appreciate your frank confidences, and will try to prove myself worthy of your faith in my judgment by advising you to the best of my ability, and by the dictates of my conscience. You must realize from the foregoing, darling, that I am fully aware of what your mother has lost by her unstinting generosity towards us, and I mean all who call 4906 home. I’ll admit, further, that you would be certainly better off financially, and probably mentally and physically, if you availed yourself of your mother's offer to take you in. I have long known (and resented) the fact that Mom hasn't acted toward you as I would have wanted her to. Harry, I know from long experience, is very hard to live with. Goldie, I know very little about, but I have no reason to doubt that what you say about her is true. I'm most heartily ashamed of their attitudes and I must confess, I am ashamed of myself for feeling that way about my own flesh and blood. But I am not one to easily forgive selfishness, intolerance or vanity in anyone, and the fact that it is my own brother and mother who have been guilty of all three cuts no ice with me whatever. If they individually or collectively, were so indifferent to the needs and wants of their son's and brother's family that they practically ignored the interests of his family where it did not concern their own precious selves, then they can hold no brief with me that I am not interested in their welfare. Remember, honey, that all-important “if”! If you consider that such has been the case, that they thought only of themselves, then I'll stand by my statement. Their failure to appreciate that your mother is giving them, as well as you, the best "break" she can, is unfathomable to me. The answer which I must, in all conscience, give you, then, as much as I deplore the necessity for it, is - Yes, move in with your mother. I'm sure that Mom can pay her own way if she moves in with Harry and Goldie, so my conscience is clear on that point. The way you must do it is this: You must announce your decision to move to your mother's place. You can tell them, in all truth, that you feel Adele will have more freedom of action there; that you, yourself, will not be so tied down, nor will you be burdened with house-cleaning, and that you'll be able to save more money against the day I come home. Tell them they are perfectly welcome to remain at 4906, but that they will have to pay a rental of $50.00 per month. (If your mother thinks it ought to be more, tell her that I myself, would rather pay the difference, either monthly, or in a lump sum when I come home,) Tell them that you don't think it would be fair to your mother to accept anything less than a decent rental, and that they shouldn't expect otherwise. That you may leave to their consciences, and I think they cannot fail to see the justice of that. Tell them that you would not hold it against them if they preferred to find other quarters - that the house would be rented in any case. You may also tell them that your mother told me what she proposed to do, and that I agreed that it would be best for all concerned if you went to live with your family. There must not be bitter words, however strong the impulse be to utter them, neither from you nor your mother - that much I ask you to do for me. If any of my family feel called upon to indulge in argument (I don't believe they'll stoop to abuse, but God, help them if they do - ), just tell them that there's nothing to argue about, that you refuse to argue about it, and that I, as well as you and your mother feel perfectly justified in taking this step. I think that’s plain enough, no? For the rest, you can move any time you see fit, but give them a week or two to decide what they want to do, and to find another place if they prefer to move. Take what furniture you'll need, and put the rest in storage. Well, Chippie, you asked me what I thought you ought to do, and I've told you as best I know how. The rest is up to you and your mother. Good luck, honey! God grant that my advice is the right advice, and that He may send me home to you soon, so that I may actively work to the best interests of all of us. One more thing, - I have not said how deeply I am hurt by Mom’s unthinking behavior, and by her apparent coldness to you, my wife. God knows, if anyone should be grateful to you and love you, she should - if only because you are my wife and the mother of her grand-daughter, but even more so because you have ever made her lot easier by doing the work that she, herself, would have been forced to do in keeping house for Jack and Harry and me. Do not feel badly that she says and does things which give you the impression that she's sorry you married me. That, I think, is mostly my fault. She probably resented the fact that all the love and attention I showed her before I met you, was lost to her when you came into the picture. Being a woman, she probably missed those attentions, and instead of placing the blame where it belonged, on me, woman-like, she blamed you. Try to understand her view-point, Chippie. Please be kind to her, even if you don't feel that she is deserving. She has always had the benefit and guidance of a strong hand, and I suspect that she is rather lost without it. It hurts me far more than you might think that I must, in a manner of speaking, tell her to go to live with Harry and Goldie, and it is my determination that I will not allow her thoughtlessness to impede your and Adele's happiness that gives me the strength to advocate the course I have. At that - it's like tearing off a piece of my heart -. Whatever her faults and weaknesses, I shall always love my mother, and it will always hurt me to see her hurt. Therefore, I must ask you as a favor to me, Ev, Baby, to break the news to her as gently as you can. Once I am home, where I can act as a sort of buffer between you, I know that we will all be able to live together in harmony, and will welcome the chance to prove it. When I hear from you that you have told her of your plans, I will write to assure her that she will always be welcome to live with us if she is so minded. I don’t expect her to understand why I have agreed to this, but I shall be desolated if she feels any bitterrness toward me on account of it. I’ll have to take that chance.


There is much, much more I could say, darling, were it not for the fact that it is so late, and I am so tired, and that my heart is so sore within me. God bless you, my angel. I love you so much! My dearest love to my adored punkin. My love to all—

Devotedly,
Your Phil

Post #518 - November 26, 1944 Adele is Really Making Great Strides with Her Speech and Here at Fighter Station, I Think to Myself that It’s a Swell Night for Our Bombers to Do Their Stuff

 

Nov. 26, 1944

Dearest Phil,

I'm strangely at a loss for words today, so I hope you'll bear with me should this letter be “dry.” Last night, after I had posted your letter, Gloria, Goldie and I went over to Ben's for ice-cream. Shortly after arriving home, we decided it was time to hit the hay and that's exactly what we did.

Gloria and I got to gabbing, once in bed (she slept with me, in case you hadn't gathered as much) about most everything under the sun. Gloria has definitely decided that she wants Jack to take a furlough, if he can get it. She says her old memories are wearing thin, and she wants to make new ones. From what I gather, she is most anxious to become pregnant. She says everyone including Lee, has put her to shame, since she is the oldest of us all.

This afternoon we all walked over to see a friend of Glo's that had moved to 4944 N. 7th St. I think I mentioned this girl to you once before. Her name is Thelma Levine, and she used to live in your old neighborhood.

You know, sweet, I'm finding it unusually hard to concentrate on this. I'm "remembering" too much, like on the 27th of November, 1942, you came home to me, just before we actually became parents and we had such an enjoyable weekend together. This day, two years hence I was busy phoning the Red Cross, etc. in the hope that you would be able to come home. Adele's birthday is only three days away, but I'm very much afraid we're going to have to wait for her "third” as you said in a recent letter.

I've asked Fay to bring Marc and Anne to bring Richy next Sunday, and shall just have a small party, so that Adele will have something to talk about for a while and something to remember. Paul, Natalie and a few others will be here to complete the group.

Adele is really making great strides with her speech. This morning she told me that “Santa Claus is coming". I asked her what she wanted Santa to bring her and she requested the following, "pretzel, tandy and iceream" (that's how she pronounces them). I gave her some soda to drink and cause she was drinking it too fast, I asked her give it to me. She said, "No, Mommy, it's not yours". What a kid! She understands everything and says everything you can think of for a kid her age. I measured her again today (for Glo's benefit) and find that she and the yardstick come out even. That's sumpin’ - three feet of height is quite a bit for a kid her age. But she's well built and carries it very nicely. She's not very graceful and that annoys me, but I'm sure she'll acquire grace in good time.

Phil, darling, you'd really enjoy her at this stage. She's most interesting and very willing to learn most anything. But I've succeeded in filling this page and that, too, is sumpin'. Guess you know full well that I just adore you, baby mine and that I am, was and always will be

Your Eve

26 November 1944 

Dearest Darling,

Still no mail! It's been so long since I heard from you, that I’m wondering if everything is still O.K. there at home.

Nothing much doing at this end today. I put in a full day at work, went to the early show to see Bob Hope in "Thanks for the Memory,” and then played about 18 games of ping-pong with Stahle down at the Aero club, The son of a gun is improving - or else I'm slipping, cause he won ten of the games, Anyway, it was a good workout, I was perspiring freely towards the end. I need the exercise, and so all in all it was a pretty good evening.

Now it is night; a crisp, clear, moonlit night, very much like a Philly night about this time of year. Back home, one would be moved to take a ride up to Reardon's for some hot-dogs, ice-cream, etc. Tonight, here at Fighter station, I think to myself that it's a swell night for our bombers to do their stuff. To carry the comparison a step further - were I home, t'd probably be sitting in my chair by the radio holding you on my lap, and wondering if we hadn’t oughta go to bed. Tonight, I can only look at your picture on the shelf and wish fervently that I could have you for company tonight,

Well, Chippie, I must confess that I have a strong impression that the end of the war is only a matter of a few months now. Of course, I realize that I have felt that way for the past year or so, but never has the feeling been so strong. What does your woman's intuition tell you, Sweet?

Until I begin to get some mail, honey, I'm afraid you'll have to be content with short letters like this one.

Take good care of yourself and our beloved punkin, Sweet, until the day I can come home to take care of both of you. God bless you my darlings - I love you so very much! My love to all.

Devotedly, 

Your Phil

Post #517 - November 24, 25, 1944 Today is My Mother’s Birthday and Right Now, I am Toasting Myself Before a “Smashing” Fire

 

Nov. 25, 1944

My Darling,

Sorry I had to end off so abruptly last night, but that's how it is. I got to bed rather late and had a picnic getting up this morning. I had to dash like mad to get out of here, for I was anxious to get a ride in. I missed getting a ride in with Mr. Bellet, so I rode down to Broad & Girard with one of the neighbors in a truck. As I got on the subway at Broad and Girard, I met Shirley Anapolsky. She looks wonderful and looked very nice in a lovely black persian lamb coat, muff and hat. Her husband has been overseas for almost two years and has no hopes of a furlough. Her husband has met with Harry on several occasions (Harry Anapolsky).

I was done at 1 and headed straight home. Today is my mother's birthday and I gave her $5 in cash, as a gift. I felt extraordinarily good, once arrived home, for the simple reason that I hit the jackpot today. I had five letters in all - two from you (those of Nov. 5 & 6), two from Milt Brown and one from Syd.

Both of your letters were very sweet, honey, and I'm sorry I can find nothing in them to comment on. They put me in a mellow mood - and that's all important you know.' Milt wrote of two skirmishes with Jap planes and said "that a hole was a handy thing to have around here - I wouldn't trade mine for a million dollars". Most surprising of all was Syd’s letter. He took a poke at some guy in camp and connected - and wound up at a rest camp on the Isle of Capri. He had a sort of nervous breakdown and let loose when this fellow annoyed him. He said that he felt a lot better mentally than he had felt in a long time, now that he had had a rest. He didn't mention the fight to his family, not wishing them to know how bad off he had been. I'm glad you wrote to him, for he is in bad need of some cheering correspondents and I, for one, shall try to write to him more often. All but 50 of his original outfit have been sent back to the States, but he can't seem to get back. It's really a pity, for he has been there a long time.

Most surprising of all was the fact that Gloria walked in and we had no idea she was coming. We got to chattering and before I knew it it was time to feed Adele and get her to bed. I washed, fixed myself up a bit and am now writing to you, while Mom and Glo gab in the kitchen. Here's a bit of news: Lee is pregnant and is in her fourth month. She's going to go back to New York to give birth and will stay with her grandmother. Can you imagine! She'll be 17 next month! Anne is due to give birth shortly and Sammy is making out very nicely, Glo, by the way, was the first to gift Adele this year. She handed me a card in which $5 in defense stamps had been enclosed.

And something else - Jean Levin is in England and I shall get her address for you first opportunity I get. She just landed there and I understand she'll be stationed at a general hospital. It would be nice if you could see her, providing she isn't too far away. I'm hoping you didn't make that planned visit to see Eddie, for you must know by now that he is right here, only 28 miles from home, Eddie called us at my Aunt’s place and we all took turns talking to him. Even Adele said "Hello, Eddie" and he couldn't get over how clearIy she spoke.

Now that I've had my little say (?) I shall turn my attention to our guest for a change. I'm always busy when she comes. Guess you know full well that I’m "that” way about you, Phil dearest, and that I just love being

Your Eve

25 November 1944

My Sweet,

In the past eleven days, I have received only one letter, your V-mail of 11 Nov! Here it is almost the end of November, and I’ve received only two letters of yours written this month! Very discouraging, Chippie! I know it isn't your fault, honey, and the postal authorities probably have damned good reasons for holding up the mail, but it is discouraging, nevertheless.

Yesterday was a typically routine day. When it came evening, and time to write my daily letter, I realized that I had not the slightest idea as to what to write about that would be even remotely interesting to you, so - since I've been writing pretty regularly here of late, I thought you wouldn't mind too much if I took a “day off". Do you mind, darling?

For that matter, there is very little of consequence to write about today! Stahle and I worked all day on a report, and only finished at about 4:30. I'm CQ again tonight (my own turn this time). Most of the night was spent trying to get a fire burning in this damned stove. After three fruitless attempts, I was pretty well disgusted, but on the fourth try I got a good blaze going. Right now, I am toasting myself before a “smashing” fire. 

I guess you know by now that I finally got Red to finish that pendant for Adele. Hope it is not too long getting there!

It is, I realize, rather large for one as diminutive as our dear little punkin, but it couldn’t be made any smaller, else the wings wouldn't have fitted on it. It may not look like much to you, Sweet, but I assure you that it is quite a job to make. I myself, would never have the patience required. Without exaggerating, I will say that Red put in at least eight hours of tedious work, cutting it out, pressing in the wings and the eyelet, and polishing the plexiglass. Being entirely hand-made, it is worth far more than you would suppose. As a matter of fact, had Red chosen to charge me for his labor, I could not have afforded it! So I think it would be no more than good manners if the punkin were to address a sort of thank-you note to him. That's a hint that it might pay you to heed, Chippie - if’n you know what I mean— 

For days, I had been wondering what I was going to say to the lass in her birthday letter, but, happily, once I got down to it, the letter wrote itself. I trust it pleased you. sweetheart.

However devoid of thoughts and words my head may be, of one thing you may be sure, Ev, baby - I shall always know what to say to you. And right now I am saying, as I always have said, and always will say - “I adore you, sweet wife.” Love to Adele and all the family from

Your Phil

Nov. 24th, 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your most welcomed letter of Oct.29, the other day, & it sure was swell hearing from you. You really don’t have to apologize for not writing sooner, as I know myself that one gets so disgusted at times, that he doesn’t feel like doing anything. We just got back from another mission the other day, & it sure was no picnic for us. Our outfit made two beacheads, & were the first wave to go in and hit the beach. The second Island we hit is where the Japs were. The boat I was on was the first one to hit the beach, & l was the third man off. We three were the furthest inland of the rest at the men. The two fellows in front of me, the first one got a bullet right through the side of his helmet, the second fellow, well I can’t say anything about him through the mail, and as for myself, I sure had a close one. A Jap threw a hand grenade at me, & it sure landed pretty close, Some of the shrapnel hit me in my left hand, but lucky enough only a few small pieces got me in the left hand. It’s pretty well healed up now, & l don’t think it will leave any marks. Thats one beachhead I’ll never forget, & l guess it won’t be the last one I’ll be on. Every time I think of what we went through and saw, I get so angry and mad that l could kill a thousand of those dogs, & every chance I get I’m going to give them everything I got to pay up for a few things. As for souvenirs our boys sure did get a raw deal on them. We were the first ones in, & we could not stop as we had to keep on pushing & fighting them back, while the reserves that came in later on behind us, got them without fighting a bit. We call them the USO boys. As for myself, they can have all the souvenirs, as I have the only one I want, & I am sitting on it right now. It sure is some feeling that you can’t describe in a letter when your coming in to hit the beach, & those Japs are firing on you. The lucky ones of us, that did make the beach, you could not even move around, for if you did, those Jap snipers would pick you off like a clay duck. We sure were pinned down for a while, and grenades, rifles and machine guns, were blasting all around us. We did our job though, & those Japs will never bother no one else. I can’t say how many we got, but we did not do too bad. I would tell you a bit more of what happened, & what we saw, but you know the censorship. We are now back on the same island we left from, and the Jap bombers gave us a good reception the last few nights. You can’t even get a night’s sleep any more. We sure had a big mail call when we came back, which we all enjoyed. I sure did get my share of it. I had three letters from Evelyn in the bunch. I wrote her yesterday. l enjoy writing to her, & l keep her well posted on the news. I write her at least two or three times a week when we can write, & she also writes me pretty often. Well, Phil, I’ll close for now as I have a bunch of other letters to write. Take good care of yourself. Drop me a line, when you have a few spare moments, & l’ll do the same.

Your loving cousin,
Milt