Post #565 - January 30, 1945 Adele is Not Afraid of the Dark Any Longer and My Heart Goes Out to Fay, and to All Those Young Wives and Mothers Who Lost Their Life’s Most Precious Possession When Their Husbands Fell in Battle

 

Jan. 30, 1945

My Sweet,

I malled off my "longie" of yesterday this morning, and as I promised, I am writing again this evening. Eddie is going to make up and mail off the package I promised you tomorrow - at long last. Perhaps we'll have enough to make two packages.

I reread your letter of Jan. 14th just now and have a remark to make. Adele is not afraid of the dark any longer, or at least, not at the present time. Today, just before I left for work, she said to me, “Tiss me, mommy;” and when I finished kissing her, she said, "I'll see ya tonight, mommy’.

I had a million things to say to you over the weekend and had hoped to write an even longer letter than I did yesterday, but, somehow, all the thoughts get caught when I start to feel the want of you.

I called Dot from work and she is rather disappointed about not hearing from you for so long. I think it's about time you did get short note off to her, don't you? It's just possible that she may take Harold and join Snuff. She's awaiting further word from him. I may go out to see Dot this weekend, as I'm most anxious to get myself some clothes and I like to shop out there.

The weather here continues to be cold and everything is very icy. I've been wearing galoshes for weeks and I'm beginning to wonder what it will be like to go without them.

You know, baby, that Jan. 27th marked our third (or should I say “my" third) year at 4906. So much has happened in that time!

The news continues so good, that I'm afraid to let myself believe it. I'd rather be pessimistic and be surprised than the other way. Phil, does your heart tell you that you'll see me in ’45. Somehow I can't conceive of it, much as I would like and want to. When I went out with Jack N. on Sunday night, I remarked, “This is almost like a date!” He said, "Whaddya mean, like a date, it is a date!" I guess he was a little hurt by the remark, but he did understand what I really meant. It’s so long since I've been out on a date that I forget what it's like and the thrill of just having an escort made me feel good. It made me want you more than anything! Phil, darling, I love you so very much and no matter what I do or whom I’m with or what I am thinking, you are foremost in my mind each second. It's you and only you, baby, that makes me go, or care about anything - you! Jack couldn't really see what you saw in me at first, but he knows now. He kept comparing me to Marjorie, whom he hopes to make his wife, and he said we are so much alike it is startling. He says she's built like me (except that he thinks I have nicer legs) and she’s as tall as I am. She is 24. I want Jack to be happy more than anything, sweetheart, but just between you and me I hope this doesn't work out. I shall be disappointed in him if he marries out of his faith and I've told that to him many times. He has thought about all the complications, and the fact that he may not be able to see and be with us or possibly live near us hurts him deeply. He knows he wants to marry her, but the actually marrying is another problem. We shall see—I’m sorry I must write v-mail again, dear, but I have so little time for anything more. I adore you and am

Your Eve

30 January 1945

Dearest Chippie,

Your V-mails of 18th and 19th Jan. arrived today. They were a mixture of good news and bad. The good news was of the arrival of Marilyn Carole Drucker (what-another girl!), and the bad news about Fay's Morris, may he rest in peace. Poor Fay, my heart goes out to her, and to all those young wives and mothers who lost their life's most precious possession when their husbands fell in battle. I still haven't conquered that tendency to feel a deep bitterness and resentment whenever I hear or read of husbands and fathers, and, yes, even sons being killed in battle. It's all so senseless and ugly and contrary to all the instincts and intentions of God and nature. Instead of getting used to war, and the slaughter it entails, I find that I despise the human race that they are powerless to eliminate this greatest scourge of civilization. Sometimes I get so riled up while contemplating it that I'm almost beside myself with the feeling of impotency to do anything about it. But enough of this—

The weather remains bitter cold, and a clean, white blanket of snow lies over all. It's ironical that we soldiers here move and live and work in an atmosphere so peaceful, while an hour's flight away all is war and violence and destruction. I don't know why I must think this way today—I think the news about Morris has impressed me more than I thought—

I think the best thing I could do would be to end this letter right here, but I don’t know why I should deprive you, Sweet, because I happen to be feeling morbid—so I’ll try to think of something pleasant to fill out the rest of this page.

I hope, Chippie, that you didn't forget your intention of having the punkin photographed when you got back from New York. You said you would, you know. I find myself thinking more and more about her as time goes by, and the more I try to imagine what she must be like, the more I miss her, and the keener grows my desire to see her—or the next best thing—her likeness. I hope, Chippie, that you'll also have another photograph made of yourself while you are at the studio. It's a year or more since your had your pictures made by C. Pruett, and I'd like very much to see a newer version of my two girls. Maybe you could prevail on Mom to take her picture at the same time. The three of you together would really be wonderful. Will you, honey? I’ll reciprocate at once if you'll do this for me—that's a promise. Room enough to say “I love you, my darlings. My love to Mom, and tell her I’ll write before another week goes by. My love to H+ G+D and all the Pallers.

Devotedly,
Your Phil

Post #564 - January 29, 1945 Ed Looks Fine, But Really, Phil, He Has Changed Completely and The Armies in the West, Under Gen. Eisenhower, are Going to Cut Loose Soon

 

Jan. 29, 1945

My dearest Phil,

This is the first letter I have written to you since Friday night, Jan. 26th. I feel very guilty about not writing all that time, but I'm very sure you'll understand why once I proceed to explain. In fact, I believe this will be a long, long, "longie", cause I have plenty to say to make up for the time I didn't write.

After writing to you on Friday, I hit the hay, only to experience a sleepless night. I guess all the excitement of the evening took its toll on me for I was sicker than a dog. I found it difficult to breathe and I felt so nauseous that I found it difficult to lay down for even a minute, for fear that I would throw up. My tummy felt queer and, sort of nervous. I was glad when the dawn appeared and I could dress and go downstairs. I couldn't touch any food whatever and settled for a nice big cup of hot tea and lemon, which set me straight almost immediately, except for some gnawing pains in the stomach. Mr. Bellet and my dad called for me at eight, as usual, on Saturday morning, and I went along. Adele had chosen to sleep till the last minute, so I just had time to get her dressed and my mother stayed here to feed her before taking her over to 4920.

I worked my usual five hours and received a pay of $27.42, after the deductions of $1.08 were made. I put in 38 hours last week. Eddie and Ruth were to meet us at the place at 1:30 as we had all previously arranged to spend the afternoon in town, eating lunch, seeing a show, etc. I was kind of leery about whether or not I could go along, but by the time they showed up I was feeling pretty chipper. We had lunch at H & H, after Mr. Bellet had chatted with Ed a short while.. My lunch consisted of creamed potatoes, a chicken crocket and more tea with lemon. I felt lots better after lunch. We decided to go to the Earle. On the way over, one of those street photographers made some pictures of Ruth and Ed. I was going to get in, but didn't think I looked too well for taking pictures. The show at the Earle was grand. It consisted of a class B picture called "Johnny Doesn't Live Here Any More" with Simone Simone and James Ellison which deals with the rooming situation in Washington. For a class "B", it was pretty good and I laughed at some of the really funny scenes. The stage show consisted of Tony Pastor and company and James Barton. The music, clowning and dancing were all lively and entertaining and the whole show was by far the best I had seen in many a month. It did me a world of good. My dad, Ed and Ruth enjoyed it as much as I did.

We headed straight home after the show, as I had promised my mother we would be home about seven, so she could get finished with supper and Adele. I had called the house to learn that there were two letters from Jack N. for me. When we got home, I stopped here to pick up my mail and went over to my mother's for dinner. One of the envelopes contained a $17 money order from Jack for the pin which I told you I wanted to return. The other was a nice letter and he promised to come to see me soon. In the midst of dinner (which was quite a light one for me with a large bowl of hot tea and a shot of whiskey to put on the finishing touches) the phone rang and I heard a male voice say to Ed, "Don't tell her who it is". It was Jack N. and he was here at 4906. I dressed Adele and came right over. Jack ate dinner with the folks, as I had had mine, and I put Adele to bed and did whatever else necessary while they ate. Adele was friendly with "Uncle Shock" (Adele pronounces Jack as a Frenchy would) and undoubtedly he will write all about the visit in his next letter.

Goldie and Harry were going to the movies that evening and asked if we cared to go along, but we didn't. Instead we stayed in, read over several of your letters, talked about many things with Mom, and about 11 o'clock we both went to see Fay, whom I had promised to see that night. Jack and I stayed till 12 and came home. We all had tea or milk and cake and hit the hay. When I got upstairs it was 2 o'clock and someone rang the bell. It developed that Ed was out with his girlfriend Ruth and had forgotten his key. So I told him to come in and go right to sleep with Jackie, which he did.

I got up early Sunday morning and by the time I finished with Adele and straightened up it was time for breakfast. Ed stayed for that too, and stayed for dinner in the evening besides. By the time we all had breakfast it was time to give Adele lunch and get her to bed for her nap. Ruth came over and she, Jack and I dragged out our album of pictures and went through it. In the meantime, in walked the Brownies with Sylvia. Before they left we took some snaps, as it just happened that Syd had a camera and film, which was more than I could manage to obtain anywhere. We took one snap of Adele alone, one of Jack, Adele and me and one of all the Browns, Adele, Ruth and myself. I hope they turn out, for they are the first snaps I've taken in weeks, or is it months. Adele still had tiny traces of a cold, which is due mostly to the cutting of her two year molars. It is this mainly that has kept me from calling in a photographer, as I want her to look, as well as feel good, when I have her picture made.

By the time the Brownies left it was time for dinner. I gave Adele hers and then we ate. It was decided that Jack, Ed, Ruth (Ed's girl) and I would go out together. I was dying to see "Mrs. Parkington" which was playing at the Rockland and which Ed and Ruth had seen that very afternoon. We let them go to the Logan to see something else and we saw Mrs. P. Phil don't miss it - I think it is an excellent picture and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I wore my lemon colored dress with red beads and Jack thought it was a snazzy outfit. We met Ed and Ruth after the show and went to Snyder's where we all had double decker sandwiches and malteds. Ed took Ruth home and Jack and I got right home and right to bed as it was almost two and Jack had to make an 8 o'clock train. I gave him the alarm clock, but 8 o'clock this morning I woke him myself. Evidently he hadn't heard the alarm go off. By the time he got dressed and I made him breakfast, he just had time to dash out of here to make a ten o'clock train.

I felt pretty good, considering that I hadn't had any real sleep for almost three nights. As soon as I was ready, I took Adele over to my mother's and went to work. I was so dam busy all day at work that I didn't have time to eat the sandwich I brought along, nor did I feel like eating. I settled for an apple and some peanut butter crackers, which Anne brings along daily from their grocery store.

Goldie called me during the course of the day to tell me that there were two letters from you, darling. It was good to get home this evening and find your long letter of 14/Jan. and V-mail of 18/Jan. waiting for me. My dearest one, I love you so much! Your letter of 14th was very lovely and replied to a great extent to the letters I had written during the month of December. I'm particularly glad that I returned the pin, now that you "gave" with what was a very pleasant surprise for me. So you're having something made for me. I can't help wondering what it is and I shall be anxiously awaiting its arrival. I sure do wish I could count on your coming along with it, sweet.

You may be right about the GI loan, but I still feel that it wouldn't hurt one little bit to get off to a good start of our own. I'd much rather not borrow, and the less we do have to borrow the better. But we shall see - one day. As for settling in Mass., well, baby, any place you are is good enough for me, if it's what you want. Adele's walking continues to improve and I make fun of it often to call it to her attention. She'll get out of it, baby, so don't worry about it.

By the way, it is one A.M. After having dinner and bathing ?? Adele, I was so exhausted I lay down for a minute, that turned into three hours. Now that I had a nap I feel refreshed and decided to get on with this so I could get it posted first thing in the morning.

As you may have noted, sweet, I spoke in a very general way of what I did this past weekend. Incidentally, baby, please try to get your hands on a 1945/Feb. Reader's Digest. There is an article called "And the Deaf Shall Hear", which deals entirely with Jack's operation and the ear specialist who performed the operation, Dr. Julius Lempert. Jack has what is known as otosclerosis and this article explains it fully. I know you'll find it very interesting. If you can't get a Digest, let me know, and I'll send one right along. By the way, I never did get the package off to you. However, Ed has promised to pack and mail it for me tomorrow or the next day, providing I get a carton and the paper and twine. I readied two small cartons at work, but neglected to bring them home. I'll definitely bring them tomorrow, so that I can get the package off. The delay annoys me, as I know you need the shoes. Ed brought no less than eight overseas packages home with him and since he refuses to touch any. kind of sweets whatever, he is letting me take whatever I want to complete the package I have for you. Ed's skin broke out badly and he is trying to clear it by staying away from sweets. Ed told me to tell you that he intends to write you a twenty page letter telling you in detail all that's happened to him since he last saw you. It may take him a few days to get around it, but he told me to tell you to expect it, so I'm obeying orders. Ed looks fine, but really, Phil, he has changed completely. He's very matured, and more nervous than I ever remember him. He has a funny far-away look in his eyes sometimes and has to force himself to think very clearly about what he has to say, before he says it. It's easy to see that he's been through a lot and though he may have put it on thickly, he is far from being normal. It's such a thrill to him not to have to take orders and be his own boss! As Jack said, "I hope he's the start of better things to come."

And now to Jack. His hearing is much better than what it was when I was in New York. He's looking better now that he has regained some of the weight he lost after the operation. His hearing is still not better than it was previous to the operation, but it is almost on a par, and he's hoping for better things every day. (I just noted that I used "better" three times and since I'm "tripling", to coin a word, if I may, I think I'll get to bed and continue on this in the morning.)

Jan. 30, 1945

Good morning, baby, here I am again, only I'm really rested this time and my mind is clear. I was so exhausted yesterday that the whole day seems like a dream. I won't have time to continue on this now, honey, So I shall close now and write another letter later. Anne, the bookkeeper, used to work for a beauty concern and got me some Revlon lipstick wholesale. A $1.20 tube cost me 72¢. It's called "Rosy Future" and I'm sending some along and hope that the smell holds. I adore you, angel, and now I must rush, if I'm to get to work at all. A big kiss -

Your Eve

29 Jan. 1945

My Darling,

Took it easy all day today. I slept in ’til lunch-time, when I rose, dressed, washed and walked down to the mess-hall. Snow and ice are everywhere, and I had a coupla near falls on the way. Stopped in at the Aero Club on the way back and read today's good news in the British newspapers. There is a great, big fire place in the lounge of the club, and I spent a pleasant few hours there. The Russian drive seems irresistible, and one wonders what the nazis can possibly do now to check it. The tremendous weight of men and guns the Reds are throwing into the battle must far surpass anything the germans have (or had, for that matter). There are signs, too, that the Armies in the West under Gen. Eisenhower are going to cut loose soon. The “bulge” has been eradicated, and it’s just a question of building up before the final plunge, which anyone can plainly see, will spell “finis” for the nazis. I’m so sure that this will all happen in the very near future (say within a month or two), that I am asking myself “what then?” Well, Chippie, we may be very sure that one of two things will happen to me, once the European conflict ends; (1) I will be shipped home (2) I will shipped to the Pacific Theater. Of the two, I am inclined to think that the former will be the case, but, of course, I can't be sure. In any case, whatever happens, I know now I can count on you to keep your chin up, so I can face any prospect with at least a semblance of equanimity.

Tonight I will be busy sewing. Yes, I said sewing! Don’t laugh, Chippie—you’d be surprised when I can do when I am forced into it and I have been forced into it. Seems like we have to have all our 8th Air Force patches, chevrons, Hershey bars, ribbons, etc. on our clothes, and I have quite a bit of stitching to do.

There was still no mail today, and I can’t think of another solitary thing to say.. A coupla the fellows want me to play some pinochle now, honey, so I'll sign off for the time being with all my love to you, and the punkin, and all the family.

Forever,
Your Phil

Post #563 - January 28, 1945 The Guy Who was to have Cleaned and Pressed my Trousers Couldn't Do So because There was No Hot Water in the Ablution

28 January 1945

Dearest Darling,

Today being the first day of my pass, I took in the matinee at the base theater. This evening, I had intended to go into town to see Bert and Evelyn, and to find out what I could do about getting your present (ain’t I the stubborn one?) engraved. Unfortunately, the guy who was to have cleaned and pressed my trousers couldn't do so because there was no hot water in the ablution. So it looks very much like it’ll be another two weeks before I can get to town. Maybe if I hold off a little while longer, it will reach you some time in March - say about the 20th or 28th - get it?

The picture this afternoon was pretty good, except for one nauseating interlude of “flag-waving.” It was “An American Romance" with Brian Donlevy and Ann Richards. The latter is a very lovely newcomer to the screen, but her performance was every bit as satisfying as her beauty was edifying. The story is one that any school boy could have written, but the scope and magnitude of the pictography and the embellishing beauty of the technicolor made made the whole thing worth while. "Take it Big,” a class "C" musical, which I saw last night, proved a stinkeroo in every respect.

There was no fresh mail today, Chippie, and things in general around here have been uncommonly dull, so I’m having a helluva time thinking of what to say— 

Right now, I'm comfortably ensconced on my bunk. It is warm and cozy here in the hut - thanks to a good wood fire in the stove, and I'm getting drowsier by the minute. My mind just doesn't seem capable of functioning to any extent, and I'm trying desperately to think of the wherewithal for just one more paragraph to fill this page—

I’ve just been consulting your last letter for an inspiration, but nothing doing. I did notice, though, that I failed to acknowledge your concern about my Nov. & Dec. War Bonds. Never fear, honey, they’ll turn up eventually - and if they don’t, I have the
company pay-rolls to show that the deductions have been made. I'll wait a while longer and then institute inquiries as to what has been holding them up. 

These last three lines are just enough to permit me to tell you for the first time (today) that I adore you, my Evie, and to send a kiss and a hug to my punkin, and my love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil

Post #562 - January 27, 1945 Every Time I Feel Discouraged or Blue I Consider How Little More It Might Take to Bring About the Final and Utter Defeat of Germany

 

27 January 1945

Dearest Evie,

After working almost constantly all day on the type-writer, I take pen in hand (as our stilted ancestors used to say) to let you know what gives with your ever-lovin' hubby—

Your V-mail of 12 Jan. arrived this afternoon. It contained the great news that Syd is back in the States, and would be home in a very few days. I can just picture how thrilled you must all be!) I earnestly hope that he’ll be home for good in a few months. Please tell him how glad I am for him. My love to Uncle Nish, Tante Bosh, Bebe and Sylvia, and Miriam.

The weather continues very cold, and we've had quite a lot of snow (for this neck of the woods). I read in the “Stars & Stripes" that you at home are having a severe winter, too. Hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much, honey.

Had a funny dream last night—Dreamed I received a picture of Adele showing her pointing at her outstretched right foot, as if to say - "See, Daddy, how straight it is!” I haven't been concerned lately for the punkin's legs - (not since Dr. Lefkoe said there was nothing to worry about)—but I guess it has been preying overtime on my subconscious mind.

The news on the Russian front gets better daily, and I'm hoping it's a harbinger of better things to come. Every time I feel discouraged or blue I consider how little more it might take to bring about the final and utter defeat of Germany, and I am filled with new hope. Call me a fool if you like, Chippie, but I can’t help feeling that I'll be seeing you, if only for a while, sometime during this summer or fall. Call it wishful thinking—an unfounded hunch—or what you will. That is what I feel, though ensuing events may prove my hopes groundless.

I'm still waiting to hear how you fared on your trip to New York, baby, but I guess I'll have to sweat it out another few days.

And now I’m going to the movies to see "Take it Big”. So long for now, Sweet. My best love to our adored punkin. Love to all. I miss you so, my Evie—

Always,

Your Phil

Post #561 - January 26, 1945 “Eddie Paller IS Home Cause I Saw Him This Afternoon” and Walking Down to Dinner, with a Biting Cold Wind Smack in My Face, was No Picnic

 

Jan. 26, 1945

My dearest Phil,

Tonight I am very, very happy. Only your presence could make my happiness complete. Mr. Bellet went to New York for the day and left Mrs. B. to look after us. We closed the store as usual and took the el and bus to get home. When we got off the J bus my dad and I walked home and I said I would see him shortly, as we parted at 4920. He went into the house and I proceeded to walk to 4906. As I walked I chanced to see Teddy Krouse, who said to me, "Aren't you happy that Eddie is home!" I said yes, but I wish he were really at home, in his own house. So he said, "Eddie Paller is home cause I saw him this afternoon". Well, honey, I picked up my feet and ran like hell to 4920 and I hear a terrific racket as I knocked on the front door. Yep, Ed is home for good and it's swell to feel so happy about something these days. We hugged and kissed and talked for just a few minutes, as Ed was eating supper and I had to get home and eat too. After dinner I went back and we all gathered in the living room and were dancing with Adele. I wish you could see her jitterbug with Ed. While we were all carrying on, I heard someone knock on the door and it was Goldie with the news that Jack Nerenberg was on the phone, long distance. So, for the second time in one night I dashed to 4906 and had a conversation with Jack. He said that his ears have improved since he had the operation but that they are not better than they were previous to it. In other words, he had become worse after the operation (which is generally the case) and was at least normal now. He told me that he had mailed me a money order for the pin, as I had requested, and I begged him to come in to Philly for a day or so if he could manage it for I want to see for myself how he has improved. He said he feels much better and that he will definitely try to be in Philly, if it is at all possible. The doctor asked him to request another 7 day extension so that he (the doctor) could care for him that much longer. It was good to talk to him and somehow, when I talk with him, I feel that much closer to you, honey. Oh, darling, how I love you and want you!

Your v-mail of Jan. 11th (you had a terrible headache that day and I'm glad it passed) and your November bond (finally) and a v-mail from Mickey Brown composed my mail for the day. I had just finished writing to the War Bond Office the other day. The bond is for Nov. but was made out on Jan 22. Chicago is very hard hit by the manpower shortage, so that may be the cause of all the trouble. Well, baby, is that a full day or is it? If only I could take you in my arms and love you as I want to -

I wear my fur coat and fur trimmed galoshes to work each day and this morning, the cop on the corner, who comes into our store at times (a big Irish fellow) said "HYa puss in the boots"! Everyone has been telling me I look like a Russian in the outfit and this particular remark made me laugh. Ed particularly likes the fur coat and thinks I got a very, very good buy, eh hem! He can't get over Adele and she loved when he played roughly with her. She loves rough stuff! For that matter, so do I, when practiced by you, baby. More tomorrow, darling, but in the meantime, would you mind very much if I kissed you soundly? No, I didn't think you would -

Your Eve

26 Jan. 1945

My Darling,

There was no mail at all today, and because not much of anything happened, I figured this V-mail form would be sufficient for what I have to say—

Seems like it gets colder each day. The frost is thick over everything, but even though it looks pretty on the trees and all the foliage, it is too damned cold out to enjoy the effect. Walking down to dinner with a biting cold wind smack in my face, was no picnic, I assure you, Chippie.

(Filling my pen just now, I was reminded of the circumstances under which t received it. Looking back, it doesn't seem so long ago that you and Jackie and Harry [where was our Jack at the time?] passed your gift of the pen-and-pencil set to me across the table at the Music Village. It might please you to know that the pen has given me wonderful service, and is coveted by almost everyone who uses it. I use the pencil very little.)

I've been pretty busy all day today, but not nearly as much so as I expect to be in a few days, when the end of the month and new month rush starts. Before it does, though, I’m going to take a couple days off if I can.

I know, honey, that you aren't very happy with "V-mail" so just by way of making this a welcome letter, I'll tell you a little secret. On Feb. 1, the day after pay-day, I'm going to send you and the punkin something nice thru the PX. I won't tell you what it is, ’cause I know how you love surprises. Do you love to hear me say "I love you, Ev” - even tho it's not a surprise? My dearest love to my very own punkin - and all.

Devotedly,
Your Phil

January 26, 1945

Dear Evelyn

I too am sorry I missed you when I called. I had intended to phone again, but always got sidetracked. Now I’m writing this letter because, though I may call tonight, I’m liable to be someplace again where I can’t do it at the time you’ll most likely be in.

About my hearing, toots, I’m afraid I didn’t explain it properly. It’s not so good as your enthusiasm shows you to believe it to be.

The difference between now and when you were here is this: now I can hear in that ear over the phone when someone speaks loud. Before the operation I could hear when someone spoke normally. Immediately after the operation I couldn’t hear over the phone at all. It has improved very little. I hope it continues but if it doesn’t I won’t worry about it.

Ev I’m sorry this is sloppy. I broke the pen I started with. This is awful.

Your mood of your first letter to me had me worried about you. Ev, a little foolishness that does no one harm is nothing. But too much seriousness and lack of a stop gap for your emotions aroused in such cases as for your girlfriends loss; well that can be bad.

I’m glad Phil hasn’t thrown you over for some blonde which is indicated by the bunch of letters you received.

Ev, I was going to send you the money for the pin in this letter. I’ll wait until late today when I can get a money order. Meanwhile I’ll mail this. My love to you all, and a little extra to the swell gal this is written to from

Jack

P.S. Hold the pin till I tell you when

Post #560 - January 24, 25, 1945 Everything is so Scarce that it’s Actually a Tough Job to Get Something Decent into a Package and Our Planes are P-51 Mustangs

 

Jan. 25, 1945

Dearest Phil,

I didn't write yesterday. Shortly after I wrote to you on Tuesday, I called Dot and asked her to come up for dinner so that we could both visit Fay later in the evening, and she accepted. I went to work as usual and Dot met me at the place at 6 o'clock and Mr. Bellet drove us all home. Dot gave me a little jersey and a pair of socks for Adele (the jersey was size 4 but I made her take it back and get me a 6) and I gave her $8 for Harold. I also gave Dot my dubonnet pumps and I sure did hate to part with them cause I liked them so much, but what good are they if they hurt. Dot and I had dinner, I brought Adele over and put her straight to bed and we went over to Fay’s. Fay will be unable to return to work for several reasons: It will cost her $1.50 per day to have the baby cared for, she'll have to go up and back from the nursery, and it will be too much of a strain. We stayed at Fay's till 12:30 and Dot got a ride down to Market St. with some other people that were there. Well, honey, I didn't get to bed till almost 1:30 and I've been feeling so weary I just don't know what ails me. So - o, today I am makIng fast with the letter writing, am going to get Adele over, and get her to bed and get myself to bed, all as quickly as possible.

I had a letter from Seymour today and it was a very nice one. He apologizes for not remembering Adele's birthday, but promised to make up for it. He isn't doing anything at the moment, just routine. Today I dug out the ole welcome home sign that I had up for you when you first came marching home and we're going to pin Eddie's name over yours temporarily. Yes, we expect Eddie home for good most any day now and I don't have to tell you how good that makes us all feel. Jack decorated the house with red, white and blue streamers and has flags draped over all. When I brought Adele over this morning, she didn't know where to look first. As my mother said, "Gosh, Ev, how you'd feel if Phil were coming home." And how! By the way, sweet, I can't get either the cigarettes or the chocolate that Anne promised and I shall have to get some sort of a package together myself this weekend. Everything is so scarce that it's actually a tough job to get something decent into a package and off. The only way you get anything these days is if you know anyone. And, sweet, I've taken great pains to impress upon Adele the fact that you call her "punkin" and when I asked her the other day what daddy calls her, she very readily replied, "punkin. When she does anything wrong and she sees me getting excited, she says "Scuse me, mommy, I'll be a dood dirl". Milt Brown is in the Netheríands East Indies, for your information, for you seemed puzzled about it in a recent letter. I told you where he was some time ago, but I guess you forgot. I also wrote a letter to the War Bond office, as neither the Nov. or Dec. bond has put in an appearance as yet. Most everyone has received their Dec. bond, so something must be wrong somewhere. Speaking of bonds reminds me - Did you ever get S & D’s Xmas bonus?

Today was the coldest day of this winter, the thermometer registering no more than 2 degrees. Sure do wish you were here to warm me up! And just in case you can use some "warmin’” I'm sending along plenty of loving kisses as well as all my love and

Your Eve

24 January 1945 

Ev, dearest,

My hopes for receiving a lot of mail today were dissipated about 4:30, when a few paltry pieces of mail arrived, but none for yours very lovingly.

We've had some freezing weather, and a few snow-falls in the past few days. Walking back and forth from the Mess Hall, Aero Club, and Theater is by way of being something of an ordeal as a consequence. Speaking of the Mess-Hall - something new has been added. It was freshly painted in green and white, and loud-speakers were installed to provide music and news while we eat. "Special Services" is constantly dreaming up something new to make our lot a little easier to take. This is the latest innovation. The “Thunderbolt Theater,” which I was bragging about some months ago is, I understand, the best in base theaters in the ETO. Sometimes I wonder how long ago I might have gone completely mad if it weren't for the relaxation and entertainment offered by the good old “Thunderbolt" (which really should be re-named because we no longer have this plane on the base. Our planes are P-51 "Mustangs").

There is very little to report this evening, Sweet, and I'm trying very hard to think of the right combination of words to fill this page. I have a date with Klein to go to the second show to see "Shine on, Harvest Moon, with Ann Sheridan, Dennis Morgan, Jack Carson, Marie Wilson and others. Some of the fellows who saw it at the matinee this afternoon said it was pretty good, others say it stinks, but I'll see for myself.

No doubt you are wondering when I mean to send off that plexi-glass bauble I was telling you about the other day. Well, Chippie, my pass comes up in a few days, and if I can get my clothes in shape in time, I'll take a run into town and see what can be done about engraving it. In any case, it will be on its way shortly. 

Klein received a nice package of foodstuffs from home today, and I was reminded that you asked me if I would like another package. Chippie, any time you have a dollar or two you don't know what to do with (fat chance!), just buy a few cans of tuna, a jar of mayonnaise, a box of rocquefort cheeses, a very dry hunk of salami, relish, gherkins, etc. Ritz or Crax crackers, or biscuits of any kind that will take the place of bread, or some of Mom's delicacies like “prakas" or spaghetti or tuna-fish salad, or “cocletten” put up in air-tight Mason jars. Any or all of these items would be received with a great deal of pleasure. 'Nuff said?

I'm waiting most impatiently for details about your recent trip to New York, but I guess it'll be a coupla weeks yet before I hear about that. And now, Chippie, I must run along if I’m to make that show. Do you mind very much if I continue with this tomorrow? You don't? Now that's magnanimous of you, Sweet - here's a kiss - and a fond good-night - I adore you, Ev—

25 January 1945 

Hello again, darling! It was bitter cold today. My ears were numb with frost by the time I walked to the Mess-Hall, and I've been hugging the fire pretty closely all day. As a matter of fact, it took a bit of will power to get away from the stove long enough to get some work done.

The mail is still conspicuous by its absence, so I don't have much of anything to say tonight. I might, however, mention that the show last night was just fair. I think Ann Sheridan is much too accomplished an actress to be wasted in nondescript musicals such as "Shine on, Harvest Moon". Remember her in “King's Row"? They should find another such role for her. Dennis Morgan is very handsome, and he has a good, strong singing voice. He was entirely sufficient as the romantic lead. Jack Carson, always good, is neither better nor worse than usual. Marie Wilson is the perfect foil (and what a pair of gams!) After a bite at the Snack Bar, Klein and I trudged back to barracks and opened the package he had received from home. We filled up on peanut-butter crackers, assorted nuts, dried dates, etc. - and then to bed.

This morning, at 6:30, Sgt. Beppler, the CQ, woke me to relieve him in the Orderly Room so he could go to breakfast. The hut was as cold as ice, so I dressed in nothing flat, and dashed over to the Orderly Room, where I warmed up a bit at the fire Bep had built. I was fairly busy all day.

The newspapers make very exciting reading these days. The Russians are driving for Berlin, and it looks very much like they should be knocking on the gates in a week or two. The “Ardennes bulge" has been virtually erased and the Allied armies are expected to get going in a big way any day now. Altogether, the situation looks very promising, indeed, and you can well imagine, Chippie, what I am feeling like these days. 

The enclosed circular letter should give you a pretty fair idea of the activities and accomplishments of our 8th Air Force during ’44. When the history of World War II is written, much will be said about the 8th. Read it, honey, and be proud that your hubby, in his small way, was also among those present to do his little bit to make the 8th what it is.

Can't think of another thing to say, Sweet, except I love you very, very much. A big hug and kiss for my little girl Adele. My love to Mom, Harry and Goldie.

Ever,
Your Phil 

Post #559 - January 23, 1945 A Woman from the War Dept. Came to Visit Fay and It’s All the Product of an Exaggerated Sense of the “Fitness of Things”

 

Jan. 23, 1945

Honey,

Today your very, very long typewritten letter of Jan. 3 came through and put me in a very, very mellow mood. Gosh, but I love to receive mail from you and more, specifically, - Gosh, but I love you! I had been waiting for all the mail between Dec. 27th and Jan. 4th and this was the first inkling I had that you hadn't written for so many days. There are still letters due me from the 27th to the 30th which I haven't received and I hope you didn't skip those days either. Yes, sweet, your longie made up for the days you hadn't written and I can fully appreciate how much time went into the typing of the letter received today. Mind If I give you a blg kiss for it, sweet!

Our 3 year fire Insurance policy on our furniture runs out on Jan. 27th and Mrs. Ostry took the liberty of renewing it. It used to cost $9.00 for three years, but now It is only $6, so I am sending off check today. Mr. Bellet has been nice enough to allow us to use his checks whenever the occasion arises so that we may save the cost of a money order. The bank also charges heavily for a check issued from an account these days. I did Mr. Beilet a big favor today and one which he appreciated, by allowing my dad to take the typewriter down to the place for Anne to use to make up the tax returns for the year. I made $705.38 last year and paid $10 and change in taxes. It could be that the gov't owes me money. I shall have to file an Income tax report on my own and we'll think about making one together once you return. I claim for both you and Adele at the present time. He brought the typewriter home with us this evening, for I can't be without it.

I called Fay last night and told her that I was much too tired to come over and would be over this evening instead. She received the three packages Morris sent as Xmas gifts and everything is simply lovely. A woman from the War Dept. came to visit her to see if there was anything she wanted in the way of help. V She told them that she would like to give Marcy into a good nursery and go back to work and they are arranging it for her. She doesn't have to go back to work Immediately, but she says she'll go crazy if she doesn't and I think It's good idea too. You know it's funny the way the $10,000 Insurance works. After all I think she'll only get $50 a month and the allotment for the same classification at present is $80. She won't be able to get along on $50, but I think she is entitled to another kind of pension, which ought to make up the difference. So it goes -

I was unwell ten days from the aggravation and couldn't wait for the opportunity to shower and wash my hair, so that's exactly what I did last night. By the time I got your letter written and letter off to Jack N. it was pretty late and by the time I got done with showering, washing and setting my hair it was really late, so I missed another night of sleep. Oh well -

I adore you, baby, and I don't mind losing sleep to keep you happy -

Your Eve



23 January 1945

My Own Darling,

Just received two very nice letters from the Nerenberg boys, Jack and Mike. Jackie's letter is all about his impending ear operation and an account of his late and current "love affairs" (the reason for the quotes is obvious). Now it's a nurse named Marjorie! He even goes so far as to confide that they are planning to marry! Seems as though he gets himself in a little deeper (no double-entendre intended) with each consecutive infatuation. In the course of his remarks he says "I know; you think I don't know my mind" - Wonder where he ever got that idea?!!! 

Mike's letter divulges the intriguing information that he and Frances are expecting their second child in May. Also that he expects to be shipped overseas soon. Hope he gets to stick around ’til after the baby is born, although he doesn't talk like he expects to.

There was no fresh mail from you today, Sweet, but I'm expecting quite a few of your letters within the next few days.

Last night, after I finished writing to you, I went down to see "Marriage is a Private Affair.” I went with every expectation of seeing a good picture, and I wasn't a bit disappointed. The story is timely, moving, and well-presented. Lana Turner turns in her most important performance to date and it's hard, almost impossible, to detect a flaw in her portrayal of the unstable Theo. To boot, she is more attractive than I have ever seen her. But in this one, the plot is the thing, and one must be unfeeling in the extreme not to be emotionally affected by it. It deals with the question of marital constancy, and whether a woman profits more by remaining true to her husband, or by trying to recapture some of the glamour and excitement of her single state. It makes for a very intriguing story and I was very much interested. Especially so because I've participated in many a heated debate on just that issue, and even more so because of a some of the sordid, ugly goings-on that I have first-hand knowledge of. Some day, Chippie, I'll tell you something about these things, and I guarantee you'll be shocked to the core. The picture left me in a strange mood. I walked in a world of moonlight and frost, and thought deeply all the while about the carnal supremacy over the human will to be decent.

At first, I couldn't account for my own reactions and sensitivity whenever I was made aware of the baseness of people who were strangers to me. After all - what was it to me that others threw overboard every tenet of honorable conjugal behavior? It was no skin off my nose! Yet I could not hear of such misconduct without being filled with a loathing that made me almost physically sick! It bothered me that the other fellows could literally lick their chops while either recounting their own “adventures” (to give it a nice name), or listening to a buddy tell of his; while I writhed within myself in my struggle to convince myself that such things couldn't be - that people, after all, had certain instincts and consciences above the animals. - And what of love? Was that vaunted quality, the noblest passion of which the human is capable, the excuse and subject for song and story, just a fable? So much hot air? I refused to believe it! Alas, to all intents and purposes, (I was finally forced to admit to myself) such is the case. The conviction was forced upon me that people are far more interested in the actualities of the present, than they are at all concerned with abstract ideals born of their pasts and pertinent to their futures. When, finally, this conviction was established firmly in my mind, I found the answer to my own retchings of the spirit at the mere mentioning of infidelity, while my buddies were either indifferent, or, what is worse, frankly envious! It had never occurred to me that I was idealistic almost to the point of abnormality, but I am now convinced that that is the only explanation for my unusual (by normal standards) reactions and convictions where ethics and ideals are concerned. "Affaires d'amour, which the average person takes more or less for granted, the more lascivious aspects of which he is wont to greet with a leer, a chuckle, or, in the feminine gender, with an appreciative titter or a quasi-disapproving "tsk-tsk", have the power to move me profoundly - to make me seethe with indignation, contempt and abhorrence. It's the mixture of these emotions which induces so strong a revulsion in me, that it affects me physically. (I think you remember such an instance, Baby) – and, as I've said, it's all the product of an exaggerated sense of the fitness of things", (ideals). Someday, Chippie, we'll discuss the significance of all the foregoing, and to what extent it is responsible for keeping me physically, as well as spiritually, and altogether literally

Your Phil