Post #577 - February 11, 1945 Tonight You Are Supposed to Say Kadish for Your Father and Seems That There is a Large Mansion on the Yorkshire Moors Whose Hostess has invited G.I.'s and A Letter from Dot Cohen

 

Feb. 11, 1945

Dearest Sweetheart,

Well, baby, here are two of the snaps I mentioned in previous letters. There is still another (a group snap) and just as soon as additional copies are made I shall send it along. I can't get over the snap of Adele alone, for she looks at least four years old on it. Her hair looks straight due to the fact that I removed her hood so that you'd get a better look at her. The other snap isn't good of any of us, as I'm sure you'll agree. Can you believe that the little girl in that snap is ours? I find it difficult to believe when I gaze at it and I'm with her!

Mom, Glo and I played Gin Rummy until about 12:30 and then to bed. Adele didn't nap today and kept me going all day long. I arose fairly early, as I couldn't seem to relax (I'm overdue on my period already). I cleaned our room, made breakfast for the two of us (wish I could say three) and took Adele out for an hour in the stroller. It was very springlike today and most of the snow has disappeared (thank god). Adele rested in her crib after lunch, long enough to allow me to eat my lunch. Then I dressed her in her little square-necked peasant blouse, red & green wool plaid pleated skirt (the one Fay gifted her with on her birthday), her locket and white socks and shoes. I am going to part her hair in the middle when I have her picture made and want to know how you like it. Most everyone likes it that way and I particularly like it that way. She loves to dress up and looks extremely feminine when dressed. She's "just like a woman" in all respects.

A friend of Gloria's and her hubby visited us this afternoon along with a barrage of Brownies. Uncle Nish made sure to gift Adele with money, as he so often does and this time it was a dollar. She walks around, shows it off and says she will put it in the bank. I take care of the latter for her.

Feb. 12, 1945

I never did get around to finishing this as you can see. Ethel, Mickey and Rae walked in. So did Thelma Levin, whom I've spoken about before. Adele got a Valentine package from Paul. It's a little basket of chocolate covered nuts and tiny red heart peppermints covered over by red cellophane paper and clasped with a make-believe pink plastic wrist watch. On the top is a heart and on the heart is a little boy floating in the clouds. The words go like this: I'd feel like this if you'd be mine sweet Valentine. Adele was very excited about it this morning and I wouldn't let her open it till she had shown it to everyone.

I still haven't gotten unwell and it's starting to annoy me. I have an idea I'll be "in the red" before another day is out, the way I feel now.

Much to my disappointment there was no mail today, although I had been expecting a belated jackpot. Maybe tomorrow, huh?

Anne (Richy's mother) (that's just to differentiate between the girl in our place and this Anne) took a part time job from 6 to 11 in the evenings, and is kept very, very busy these days. She has been getting mail regularly from Tony, and that is all that really matters. He's in Germany you know.

Tonight you are supposed to say kadish for your father and I'm wondering if you found out about it and said it.

Gloria slept over last night and left early this morning. I arose early, and had a very routine day. One thing was different - I ripped my stockings and had to run out a few minutes ago and get myself two pairs.

I have a nice portion of Paul's vest completed and hope to finish it shortly so that I may make a few sweaters for Adele and that handbag for me.

I'm beatin' my brains out for something to say and since I'm not able to concentrate due to a dull headache I won't drag this any further.

Good night for now, my own dearest Phil, I adore you and want you so much!

Your Eve

P. S. Guess you want to know what I think of the snaps. Neither of them do anyone justice. Ethel didn't want me to send any of them along as she doesn't feel they are true enough, but I feel that lousy snaps are better than no snaps at all.



11 Feb. 1945

Darling Chippie,

There was no fresh mail today, and because my last four or five communiques have been send "Air Mail" I thought I’d resort to to V-mail tonight so that you'll have some mail while waiting for the slower “Air Mail” letters to arrive.

Last night I went to the movies to see "Gentleman after Dark." Sure enough, I had already seen it! However, it is an interesting sort of picture, and it was so long ago that I saw it, that I had time to forget the plot and enjoy it all over again.

The Officers’ pay vouchers and sundry other things kept me busy all day today, and I still haven't found the opportunity to wrap and mail your “gew-gaw” (well, I just can’t call it a “thing”, can I?) or visit the PX. But there'll come a day - never fear! Speaking of visiting reminds me—There is a poster on the Bulletin Board in the Aero Club that interested me very much! Seems that there is a large mansion on the Yorkshire Moors (the locale of “Wuthering Heights") whose hostess, thru the auspices of the Red Cross, has invited G.I.'s in the U.K., to spend their leaves and passes there. There are many other opportunities for "hospitality" but this particular one appealed to me more than the others because it both affords an interesting change of scene, and an opportunity to lounge around and catch up on on my correspondence. Why am I telling you all this? Well - because I'm due for furlough, and I was considering taking advantage of what, to me, appears a golden opportunity. I’ll let you know what I decide to do about it, Sweet. In the meantime, I’ll be “sweating out” your letters, working, seeing a movie or sump’n - and thru it all - loving you every minute. A kiss for the lassie. My love to all.

Ever, Your Phil

Sun. Feb. 11th [1945]

Dear Phil:

I received your letter, and I don’t remember whether I answered it or not, so here I am again. I hope you don’t get tired of me.

By now you probably know that I am back in “Lousyana.” Snuff is having trouble with his leg again. He has four blood clots in his leg. They operated on him and took out one, but the other three are still there. Now he has some kind of growth between his thumb and forefinger, which will also need an operation for removal. Boy—what the Army can do to a perfectly healthy guy. No, he has no chance for a discharge. Does that answer your question?

I’ll excuse your letting some of my letters going unanswered, but don’t forget about me altogether.

Yes, I do remember that particular evening you mentioned. Gee, I certainly had a nerve, barging in like that. But I would do it again, if it would mean that you were home and Snuff on night work.

I gave Ev your message—that you love her dearly. You know what? I think somebody else told her too, because she seemed to know all about it.

My trip down here was very eventful. It should never happen to a dog! First of all, we left Philly at 7:41 P.M. on Wed. night. It was an all-coach train—reserved seats only, so at least I had a seat. We were due in St. Louis at 1:35 P.M on Thurs. and I was supposed to catch the train to Alex. at 5:50 P.M. that night. Anyhow, about 20 mi. out of Indianapolis, the car in back of us broke down and they had to disconnect it, and everything behind it and leave them there. There were about seven cars, and they crowded all the passengers from them into the baggage car, the club car, and our car. When we reached Indianapolis, they gave us a 40 min. stop-over to eat, as the diner was one of the cars left behind. Well, I don’t need to tell you that the station was a mad-house. Anyhow, we finally made St. Louis at 6:15 P.M. Our train had wired ahead to the other trains to wait, and they all did,—except ours. So I was stuck for the night in St. Louis. I stayed in a very lovely hotel. It was the first time I ever stayed in one. Just one more experience to add to my memoirs. I made a train at 8:05 A.M. on Friday and arrived in Alex. at 3:30 A.M. Saturday morning. Believe me, I would never want to go through that again. However, I must admit that I had some interesting experiences with the servicemen. On the whole, they are pretty nice guys.

The weather here is really delightful. Almost like summer. Back in Philly, they still have ice on the ground.

While I think of it, Snuff’s address is

Pvt. Irvin Cohen 33815176 

Station Hospital Ward 418

Camp Claiborne, La.

Here’s a cute joke, to relieve the monotony of the letter:

A Soldier writes a letter to his wife to send him $2.25 for toothpaste and stuff. And she wrote back: “Enclosed is $.25 for the toothpaste. Come home for the stuff.”

Well, Phil, that’s about all for now. By the time you receive this letter and answer it, I’ll probably be home. So write soon. It is always a pleasure, hearing from you.

Affectionately,

Dot

Post #576 - February 10, 1945 Gloria is Here for the Weekend and was the First Person Who Greeted Me on My Arrival Home and It certainly Gives Me a “Lift” Every Time I Remember or am Reminded that Eddie is Home for Good

 

Feb. 10, 1945

Dearest Daddy,

No mail from you today, and I am looking forward to something of a jackpot this coming week. I had a very busy day, what with working for Bellet and Miss Hahn. When I finished at Bellet's I had lunch at H & H with Anne, which consisted of fried liver, mashed potatoes and Harvard beets, huckleberry pie and coffee. A bit of alright, eh, what? My appetite these past few days has been enormous and I'm sure I've put on a few extra pounds as a result. Everyone notices that my cheeks are fuller, so that's enough proof for me.

After lunch I went directly to Miss Hahn's, arriving at 2:45. I worked until 6:10 and she wanted to pay me 70¢ per hour for my trouble. I settled for $2.35 for fare and my work, not wishing to take advantage of her. She was so happy I came, I can't tell you. She even gave me a lollipop to take home for Adele.

Gloria is here for the weekend and was the first person who greeted me on my arrival home. We've been gabbing about this and that. When I took Adele up to bed I tried the dress Rose Brand gifted her with on and found it is much too small (and it's a size three!). I shall have to return it to her for a larger size. I like it very much and thought I'd have her picture made in it.

The Browns, Strongins, etc, are coming up tomorrow to see the family and especially Glo. Sylvia (Milt's girl) (her folks have a grocery store) promised to get me some tuna and darn if she didn't. Harry got me a pack of Herbert Tareytons for you, so I've got two items against my next package. I'm going to send a package to Milt too, if I can scrape enough items together.

Ruth bought Adele a little toy wrist watch and Adele is proud as punch of it. She's very careful of her "wist watch" and enjoys playing with it by pulling it off and putting it back on her wrist. She wouldn't nap this afternoon and my Mom had a very tiring day of it. Now that she's getting older she won't nap each day and it's a tough grind to keep going with her all day long. I'll be glad when all the snow is gone, for then we can keep her outside and wheel her around in the stroller and she won't get into any trouble that way.

When I took her up to bed, I said to her, "Adele, who's going to sleep with Mommy tonight?" She replied, "Daddy". I said no and told her to guess again. This time she said, "Philip. So I told her that you weren't going to sleep with me tonight, but maybe tomorrow and that Gloria was going to sleep with me today. I'm "due" today, but it seems to be holding off and I feel kind of tired as a result. You know how I feel the day "before".

Well, baby, I am writing this to you as Glo writes to Jack and so that I may keep her company for a little while before going to bed, I'll say I adore you, baby and I am

Your Eve


10 February 1945

My Dearest,

Your V-mail of 30 Jan arrived this afternoon, and I'm going to try to get it answered before making the second show at the "Thunderbolt”! The picture is "Gentleman after Dark" with Brian Donlevy and Miriam Hopkins, and for the life of me, I can't remember whether or not I saw it before, and nobody seems to know what it's about, so I guess I'll have to go around and see for myself. It has been another full day for me, and I feel the need for a little relaxation - (got any good ideas in that connection, Chippie? Mm-hm! - that's what I thought you'd say). Gee, honey, how I wish I could take you up on that! Where was I - oh, yea - I was goin' to the movies -after finish this. Well, as I was saying in the beginning - I received your V-mail of 30 Jan. and I was pleased no end to note that you start right off by telling me that you mailed off a "longie" “yesterday.” I'll be looking for a nice, fat letter dated 29 Jan, you betcha! Glad to hear that you finally dragged together enough stuff to make up a package. You say that Eddie is attending the packing and mailing of it. It certainly gives me a “lift” every time I remember or am reminded that Eddie is home for good! I hope he isn't too busy to drop me a line now and then. — Which reminds me that I've been neglecting Ruth shamefully these past months. She deserves better treatment from me, I know, and I hope you have pointed out to her that the only correspondence I've been able to attend is yours. Remember me to her Chippie, and tell her for me how sorry I am that I have been unable to reciprocate in kind for her many nice letters and cards. I haven't forgotten a certain pin I promised to send along to her, either, and some day, when I have the opportunity and the money at the same time, I'll keep my promise. I got a great kick out of the second paragraph, Baby. First, you mention that the punkin is no longer afraid of the dark (she got over it a lot sooner than I did), then you go on to recount that "Tiss me, Mommy. See ya tonight, Mommy” interlude with Adele. Bet you ate her up for that, Chippie—I know I would have! Was pleased to note that the recent great news from the fighting fronts impressed you favorably and lifted your spirits. The rest of your letter is pure “love-letter,” Baby, and it’s mighty sweet music you play on your ever-lovin’ hubby’s heart-strings. Lady, you say the nicest things in the nicest way! My impulse is to reply in like vein, but I'm so full of the love of you, Ev, that I wouldn't dare put down in so many words what I am feeling at the moment - it would sound like a mixture of all the love-letters you ever read and all the love songs you ever heard. Boiled down to its very essence, it means nothing less than - I adore you, sweet wife of mine.

A kiss from

Your Phil

Feb. 10, 1945

Dear Evelyn,

I have a little extra time today so I’m dropping you a few lines. I am feeling fine & hope this letter finds you all the same. Receiving quite a good bit of mail lately & practically hear from everyone I write to. I sure have a bunch of letters to write now, but I don’t mind that when I have the time to write. I guess you are busy as a bee these days, taking care of the baby, the house & also working, leaving you hardly any time for yourself to do those little things that you like to do. Had a letter from Mickey yesterday, but he does not have much to say, & still does not know the outcome of the x-rays he had taken of his stomach. I don’t think it is serious, & I sure do hope I’m right. Also received a few letters from Sydney written from home, & he sure is enjoying his stay at home, but I guess that is only natural to him. I guess you saw quite a good bit of him. Well, Evelyn, there really is not much more I can find to write about for now, as I wrote you a few days ago, & since then there really is not much new going on around here. Give my regards to all & I’ll write you again soon.

As Ever,

Milt 

Post #575 - February 9, 1945 They Have So Many New Things Around to Make Up for the Shortage and Bert and Evelyn Must Think I'm Dead

 

Feb. 9, 1945

Dearest Phil,

Last night after posting your letter I went to Ben's and managed to get 10 more pieces for my package, of candy and gum. I've never tried some of the bars, but I'm sure you'll enjoy them. They have so many new things around to make up for the shortage that I can't keep up with them. Eddie is making up the package and it is being mailed today. (Mr. Bellet just walked out for lunch and I'm endeavoring to knock out this v-mail before he returns).

I shall make up another package of tuna, cheese, crackers and whatever else I can get, as you requested in the letter I received yesterday, whenever I can get the items. You must realize, honey, that I have very, very little time for shopping, and these days you really have to "hunt out" any item you desire, or get it from someone you know who handles it. I think the situation becomes worse with each passing week.

Adele's speech and activities have not been discussed for some time, so suppose I give you a little detail (got to get this filled somehow and I'm sure you won't mind). The other day she happened to notice that my loafer shoes (as they are called} have a hole in the sole. She said, "Mommy your shoes is torn. Take it to the shoemaker and have it fixed." I told her to get after Uncle Eddie today and see that he makes up the package and mails it. She said, "Wrap the package for Daddy and take it to the post office. And (afterthought) "Mommy, you gotta give me money". This morning when she awoke she was a little boisterous and I told her to keep very quiet cause everyone was sleeping. She said, "Mommy, I'll be a dood girl. I won't make Harry mad." She refers to you often now and says, "Daddy coming home soon, say hello punkin."

I feel reasonably sure that she will associate you with your picture once you do come home and I doubt if you'll have any difficulty being as friendly with her as I am. Once in a while, she’ll say, "Mommy, I yove ou, pick me up." She gets lovey dovey and wants to kiss me. Sort of reminds me of you, honey.

I notice that my mail has fallen off again, for I've only had two old letters in eight days. When you consider that I received your v-mail of 26/Jan over a week ago, it isn't any too good. Oh well, maybe tomorrow will bring something for me. Eddie mailed off the package of chocolate bars, film, "some" cigarettes, gum, etc. today and I shall try to get another with the tuna off as I promised within the week.

It was nice out today, but the snow continues to remain. It's such solid ice that it will probably take weeks for it to melt. A little more of the weather we had these past two days and it will disappear completely. I guess you know, darling, that I adore you. Not only that, but I love you, too, Surprised?

Your Eve



9 February 1945

Dearest Darling,

I'm having the darnedest time thinking of things to write about these days— You see, Sweet, I've been kept very busy in the Orderly Room for a long time now, and while I think of plenty of odd little items to tell you about during the day, they somehow escape one by the evening, when I settle down to writing. Guess I'll have to start jotting down notes on a memo pad as these things occur to me. Then, too, I haven't been off the base since New Year's Eve, and I don't have anything to tell you about my leaves, as once I had. Bert and Evelyn must think I'm dead or sump’n, I haven't seen them in so long. When the weather gets better, I’ll be going into town again more frequently. That reminds me—you remember, Chippie, that I had been holding your “doo-dad" ’til I could get to town to have it engraved, but just today I learned from one of the guys that they do a very poor brand of engraving in these parts, so I have decided to send it on to you as is. It is much too plain in its present form, but I have a hunch you'll have a pretty definite idea how you'll want it finished off, so I suggest you take it round to a jeweler and let him tell you if he can dress it up to your taste. I’ve managed to get a few pounds ahead, honey, and because this is intended as my anniversary gift to you, I want to pay the charge for the engraving, so let me know the cost, will you? I'll be sending it along just as soon as I can find a suitable box to mail it in. I'm still waiting a chance to order those things at the PX. The PX is only open from 11:30 A.M. ’til 6:00 PM, and believe it or not, I've been too busy each day for weeks now between those times to be able to knock off work long enough to get down there and fill out the necessary forms. (Talking about “filling out forms" gives me a wonderful idea, but I guess that will have to wait—) Anyway, honey, just continue to be patient, and trust me not to forget to get these things off to you—eventually. The mail is held up again - else you've reverted to using Air Mail, ’cause I haven't received any for a coupla days. On the other hand, I'm just too occupied to even attempt to drop a line to all those people whom I owe letters. Please make my apologies for me, will you, Sweet? - Especially to Mom - I know she must be pretty disappointed in me - it’s so long since I promised to write to her. I would love to start a letter to her right now, but it's 11 o'clock already, and the guys are all in bed, and beginning to look daggers at me for keeping the lights on - so I'll say a hasty good night, kiss you (not too hastily), and whisper the old, time-honored "I love you, Chippie". Just one more line in which to hug and kiss our own Adele. 

Love to all from Your Phil

Post #574 - February 8, 1945 Those Hopes for a Happy Ending Increase as the Days Go By

 

8 February 1945

Dearest Evie,

Today marks the eighteenth month since I set sail from the shores of the good ole U.S. A. In retrospect, it doesn't seem so long (it never does - in retrospect), but I'd hate to look ahead to eighteen months more without you, Baby, My life, except for a few interludes, in all that time, has been pretty dull. There is hardly anything any more that I take real pleasure in. When one lives for one particular reason, he isn't much good to anyone when that reason is on the other side of the world, and that has been my outlook in all that time. I'm not bitter about it, Sweet, -  how could I be when I know that so many have been, and are still destined to be, so infinitely more ill-fated? No, I really can't feel sorry for myself, or you either, for that matter, honey, but there is more than one way of losing all that makes life dear. One way is dying - the other way I have mentioned above - being separated from your loved ones. However, “hope beats eternal in the human breast, -”  and those hopes for a happy ending increase as the days go by, and our boys and the Russians make greater inroads into Germany. You asked, in a recent V-mail, if my heart tells me that I'll see you in ’45. Baby, I'd almost forgotten I had a heart, and I've been wrong so many times, that it would be nothing less than presumptuous of me to make a further prediction - yet I can't help feeling (as I always feel) that the war will be over in Europe in a matter of weeks. Guess I’m an incurable optimist, but you asked me. I didn't volunteer my opinion— 

Today, too, I spent most of the working day making entries in our Service Records. The remark read like this: [Auth. 3 overseas service stripes for FS. 1-1/2 years completed date.] All the time I was making the entries I kept wondering if I would ever be entering the authorization for the fourth stripe. Your guess is as good as mine on that score, Sweet. Nothing new to report now, so I’ll just finish this off with all my love to you, my Evie, and the punkin - and all.

Devotedly, Your Phil

Post #573 - February 7, 1945 The Shower Last Night was Just Perfect and Where Do I Find the Time to Do Anything Worth Writing About? and A Long Letter from Eddy Paller

 

Feb. 7, 1945

Dearest Darling,

The shower last night was just perfect. The gifts were really lovely and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Goldie and I got there at 8:30 and the whole gang left at 11:30. The table was set up so beautifully it was a pity to mess it up.  And the food was so delicious that I had two helpings of potato salad and you know full well, baby, that I detest potato salad. The reason I liked it so well was that it had shredded carrots and peppers in it and was a cross between potato salad and cole slaw. I chatted with many of the people present, most of whom were from the neighborhood. I also got to talking with Mrs. Taylor (Syd Taylor's mother) and her daughter-in-law, Sylvia, who once upon a time was my girlfriend. Sylvia told me that Lena's husband (remember Herby Miller) is leaving for the service this month. I never thought they would take him on account of that terrible automobile accident he was in. Just shows to go you!

Milt Brown's girl, Sylvia, called me shortly before I left for the shower to tell me that the snaps we took when Syd and Jack N. were here turned out well and that she will bring them up this coming weekend. There was one pose of Adele (alone) (profile) and she says it turned out beautifully. I'm most anxious to see them and I'll send along to you immediately, babe,

A fellow came into our office the other day selling $1 coupons good for an 8x10 oil painting at the Lorstan Studios. It was only necessary to pay 50¢ so I decided I'd try the one picture and see if I liked it. I want to go to Lorstan's anyway, so now I'm really going. I shall stipulate that it is necessary to send the proofs overseas so that you may make your selection before the colored picture is made up. At any rate, the important thing is that I'm going to have Adele's picture made sometime next week. I want a full length pose and I understand it is extra for such, but that doesn't mean a thing. I want a closeup and a full length.

Feb. 8, 1945

I wrote the above before going to work yesterday and never did get around to getting it finished. So here I am today (just before leaving the office ) trying to make some headway, Goldie called and told me there were two letters from you, so I'm most anxious to get home to see what they have to say.

I had the enclosed letter from Jack N. yesterday and I'm sure it speaks for itself. What do you think, honey? I think he's "cooked" or mighty close to it. But you draw your own conclusions.

Clara was over for dinner last night and I finally paid her for the vitamin pills. She even gifted Adele with $1 for war stamps and Diana received 50¢ for war stamps (as she put it, "I don't know her as well as I know you). Clara also gave me a box of Sucrets, and showed me your v-mail to the Label Bureau Girls. Clara’s impression of Adele was this; "She's much prettier than her pictures". I have yet to see a picture that really shows Adele as she really looks. There is a certain something missing from her facial expression that is most important.

Home again, and I hope this letter isn't becoming too confusing. Your two letters were those of 22/Jan and 24-25/ Jan and I assure you, sweet, that they were most welcome, since it was almost a week since I last had mail.

There isn't anything that really inspires comment except this: I definitely do not want you to take a furlough, unless, as you say, you will go back to your outfit. I still prefer to wait till you can come home, for I feel certain that the longest part of the waiting is over. I think I made myself very clear on that issue.

In your letter of the 25th you enclosed the leaflet about the 8th and I found it most interesting. Yes, sweet, I am proud of the fact that you are part of the 8th, but I’ll be even prouder when you are just plain Mister. (don't mind me, I'm prejudiced).

Also in yours of the 25th was a request for some tuna, cheese, crackers, etc. and I shall bend every effort to send same along within a few days. Tuna is extremely difficult to obtain these days, but I'll get some of it somehow. I'm going over to my mother's when I finish this and Ed and I are going to make up a package of candy and the like.

I am mailing off a six page typewritten letter, written by Ed, telling you, in detail, of  what has happened since he last saw you. He is very poor at correct punctuation and asked me to correct some of the errors he knew he made. I skimmed through it, honey, and made a few corrections, but decided not to spend too much time on it, as I want to get this off and I'm sure you'll understand. It’s a beautiful letter and I never thought he could write so well.

Most surprising of all is this: Tonight my cousin Meyer (Esther's brother, the one who Eddie mentions visited him and who is just about ready to leave for overseas) is being married. He met his wife at Bella's wedding (which was on Dec. 24th) and here he is marrying her. I understand she's very nice looking and very well to do and they both fell like a ton of bricks. The funny part about it all was that Meyer never had too much to do with girls, nor did he like them so well. He arranged for a special three day pass (his last, incidentally) and is being married this evening and will have exactly two days with his wife. How about that! Such is life, they tell me. It all happened so quickly and I couldn't make the ceremony even though I rushed myself to death. I would have liked to be there, but maybe it's just as well this way. Imagine, my Aunt and family will meet their in-laws for the first time at the wedding!

Fay rented her spare room out to a soldier, his wife and 13 month old son for $10 per week and that will help immensely financially. She feels lots better having a lot of company around the house all day long though I thought perhaps the presence of the soldier might cause her some regret. She says it doesn't bother her, so I guess she knows what she's doing. The soldier is stationed at the Signal Corps. I call Fay every single day, just to let her know I haven't forgotten her, even though I can't get over to see her more often.

Miss Hahn called me last night to inform me that she hasn't anyone at all to help her and perhaps I can do something for her. She doesn't know how she'll be able to keep up her business unless she gets some kind of help soon. She's totally helpless without someone else's eyes. I promised to come up Saturday when I finished at Bellet's to help her along. I feel sorry for her and that's why I keep going up to help her out, in spite of the inconvenience to me.

Well, darling, I think you'll agree that I've had my say. I'm sure you've hit a jackpot by this time. I love you so much, baby mine!

Your Eve


7 February 1945

Dearest, 

This new policy of mine of writing daily is far easier determined upon than practiced. Just now, for instance, I've been sitting and cudgeling my brains (or what passes for such) for what to write. I've been so occupied with my work for the past few weeks now, that I have only a few hours of an evening to myself, and most of that time is spent writing to you, so where do I find the time to do anything worth writing about? You understand what I'm up against, Chippie? Be it as it may, though, I'm not going to back down on my promise to write every day if I have to think for an hour to get the inspiration for a single sentence. 

Tonight I saw Casablanca again, and so strong is the spell of the beauteous Ingrid Bergman, so reminiscent her acting and actions of my own sweet Chippie, with her frank display of affection, and intimate, heart-warming smile, that all I can feel and think about tonight is how I crave to hold you in my arms—how great is my need of you, and how glad I’d be for the mere sight of you. If I were a drinking man, I would, no doubt, be down at the base pub getting drunk, but being just a little short of a teetotaler, I can only sit and yearn and hug the memory of you close to my heart. I love you so very much, my Eve, that my every conscious thought is in some way connected with you. The greatest cross I shall ever be called on to bear is to be without you. I feel so incomplete away from you, Sweet, that I am often brought up short by the realization of my present empty meaningless mode of existence. It is at such times that I rail inwardly at the fate that has befallen me and so many millions like me. If I only had Adele, darling, as you have, she would, I feel, fill some of the great emptiness within me—that emptiness that is born of and synonymous with the infinite loneliness that assailed me a moment after we parted the last time, and which has lived with me ever since then. Surely, no mortal's happiness was ever so dependent on the presence of his mate and child!

Perhaps, darling, I am being unwise in this confessing my utter dependence on you, and you may think the less of me that I cannot conquer my loneliness and depression, and you may mistakenly assume that I indulge myself to the extent of self-pity, which would, or should inspire some measure of contempt for me in you, but if missing you, and needing you, and loving you almost to the exclusion of everyone and everything else is contemptible, then I can only ask you to try to understand and forgive.

Your Phil 

February 7,1945
Philadelphia, Pa. 

Dear Phil:

In one respect I didn't want to write this letter because its been so long since I last wrote to you and I know you was expecting to hear from me sooner then this but you know the old slogan, "better late then never". I have so much to say that I thought I'd save it all and tell you everything in this letter. My memory is very good and I remember some of the questions you ask me in your letters. By the way, I did receive all your letters including your last one dated October 21,1944. If you remember you ask me whether I knew or heard that I was being sent home. I didn't answer your letter because I was never told I was going back to the states until the very day I left. You remember the day you came to see me and they told you I was going to take some shock treatment, well I told the doctor after I had taken two shots that the treatment was hurting my spine and I wasn't kidding a bit either. So they stopped giving me the treatment and two weeks later they sent me to a closed ward to take insulin treatment. I remained in that same ward till the day I left. Just to straighten out the story the first time I entered a hospital was on August 4, 1944. The last letter they received home from me was dated August 3. I stayed at the 96th Gen. for almost three months and then finally on October 27, I was told to dress and be ready to leave immediately. We were put on ambulances and after riding almost four miles boarded a hospital train for Liverpool where a hospital ship was waiting for us. We no sooner got on then fifteen minutes later we set sail for the land of liberty. Although it took us seventeen days to hit the States we had a swell time aboard ship. Here's the way the routine went: We got up at seven, made our beds, then went to chow at eight. Theres no need to tell you that the food served aboard ship was the best I ever tasted since being in the Army. After chow you could lay on your bed and at nine-thirty make the show which we had scheduled every day in the week, or sleep till dinner if one chose. Ate dinner at twelve, smoked a Camel, and read the ships daily newspaper which featured the news, latest songs, sports, and anything which they thought would interest us. I spent most of my time playing cards, checkers, and kidding with the nurses. (I had to get that in too.) Eat supper which was always topped off with ice cream and apple pie and then listen to recordings and read some worthwhile books. I read "Leave Her to Heaven,” "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," "Forever Amber.” All three books were top hits as far as the public was concerned.

Unfortunately we landed in South Carolina where the weather is really ideal and the sky is always a powder blue and in one day you can get more sunshine here then all the time spent in England. It was really a beautiful summer day when we landed at one of the ports on November 13,1944. We were greeted by two bands giving out with some of that good old American jive. Naturally the Red Cross was on hand as usual filling all of us with plenty of doughnuts and hot coffee. As we departed from the ship the Red Cross gave us kits which contained soap, tooth brush, comb, a pair of white socks, stationery, cigarettes, matches, and candy. Arriving at the Stark General Hospital by ambulance I was surprised to meet some fellows who I knew at the hospital in England. So you see I was quite at home and not much of a total stranger at all. I was placed in a closed ward where we did have a little more freedom. Every day they would let us go out to an enclosure where we practiced playing hard ball. I always stripped to the waist because it was so hot and you could catch plenty of sunshine. The very same day I telegrammed that I had landed in the States and was feeling good. I remained at Stark General for three days when on November 15 I was put aboard a hospital train which took about fifteen hours to get to Valley Forge General Hospital which is located about twenty-three miles outside of Philadelphia and three miles from Phoenixville. Valley Forge is really a big place and very beautiful too as far as the outside is concerned. What goes on in the inside is another story. Upon my admission to the hospital, I was interviewed by a medical officer (captain), who was later to become the officer who decided my fate for the future. I was placed in a closed ward and treated very nice. We saw movies and U.S.O. shows every night and had various people representing different organizations pay visits to see us. Spending a day at the hospital went something like this: Were awaken at seven-thirty and didn't eat till eight-thirty. In order to keep the morning hours from dragging by I tried to keep myself very busy by occupying all my spare time with some sort of entertainment. So in the morning maybe for an hour or so a few of us would get together and form a tournament in playing ping pong. The object was to loose as few games as possible in the hour that we played. This would make anyone who lost no games or who lost very few the champ for that day. I must say I came out pretty good in the long run. The remainder of the morning I went to occupational therapy where I made wallets, picture frames, key chains, rings, and other ornaments which could keep me busy.

Came back just in time every day for chow. Take about an hours rest then shoot pool for three hours. I'm really getting to be a master at that game. I always made it back about an hour before chow to listen to recordings, play cards, or cut a rug if your hep to the jive. Supper was always the best meal of the three, maybe because I got a bigger appetite in the afternoon. I'd read up on some good books I had started for two hours or more and then make the evening U.S.O. show or movie. We saw all the latest shows which were just beginning to play in Philly when we would see them. I spent all the holidays in the hospital. (Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years) I thought of far better places I could of been and then again I thought of far worse places I might have been. Four weeks after I was admitted to the hospital I was presented to the board which consisted of my captain, a major, and another captain and non-commissioned officer. This took place on December 13th. Following my case I was told that I had received an honorable discharge, section two, cdd, and was to be admitted to a veterans home for further observation and treatment if necessary and to receive all the rights given by act of Congress to all returning veterans including any further hospitalization I may need at any time in the future. All advise, help, and assistance will be rendered by the Veterans Administration. So now you see number thirteen is my lucky number.

Christmas the folks came to see me and I didn't seem to recognize anyone the first time I glanced around. My cousin Ruth and her brother who I believe is now in England came along also. She looked very pretty, so I remarked. Mom and dad look fine though there working just as hard as ever. Sis Ruth has really grown up and she looks very different then when I last saw her. It was a swell reunion, one which I doubt I will ever forget. I forgot to tell you that once we got past Washington the weather changed from warm to very cold. In my stay at Valley Forge the weather was very severe. This is the coldest winter we have had in years. It started to snow two days before New Years. January has brought nothing but sleet and snow and the weather remains very cold although today isn't very bad at all. We had one big snow storm. It snowed for a day and a half without any letup and it was between eighteen and twenty-four inches deep. It hasn't snowed since except for some sleet and snow still remains on the ground from the last storm.

I had my first chance to see Philly when the Red Cross took us to a party at Bookbinders at second and Walnut Street. Philly looked good to me and it would probably look good to anyone who hasn't been home in some time. Its more crowded in town then it ever was and sometimes it gives one the impression that there isn't a war going on. Theres still plenty of men, probably four-f's and married men, not many young fellows at all. There plenty of women and you can still get liquor if you pay the price.

Getting back to Valley Forge, it took another four weeks before I signed my discharge on January 13,1945. The next day I went down to the quarter master and picketed myself out a good fitting class B uniform. In the meantime I signed my veterans papers and on January 24, I was told I was leaving for the Philadelphia Naval Hospital by request of the War Department. The fact is I was sent there in case I got sick again it wouldn't be far to go to get to the hospital. I was the only one in Valley Forge to go there. All the other fellows went to places in Maryland, New Jersey, or New York. They have three special wards for Army cases at the Naval Hospital and they also have a Veterans Administration for veterans. They gave me my discharge button and personals and then, by ambulance, I arrived at the Naval Hospital. After being admitted, I was sent to an open ward where there were veterans from the last war still there. On the twenty-fifth of January I was given a physical and ask some questions. It wasn't till nine that night that they told me I could go home of my own accord. I resolved to stay overnight and start out after breakfast. I got a good nights rest, ate a hardy breakfast, and then went down to the Veterans Administration where I was told my discharge and mustering out pay would be forward to me in two weeks. After receiving a written paper stating that I was discharged from the service on January 24,1945, I took off like a P-38. I got outside the gate there was a taxi waiting there so I hopped in and rode home. The taxi driver happened to be discharged from the Army about nine weeks ago and he was giving me advice on the present situation in Philly. When I walked into the house my mother was the only one home and she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw me walk in.

Darn it I left out part of the story. I forgot to tell you that Eve and Shorty came to see me on New Years day. Shorty is almost as tall as me and he certainly changed although he still stays out all hours of the night. In my opinion Eve looks swell and I know, when you come home you will agree with me. Everybody is working pretty hard and if theres any odd jobs to do they fall on my shoulders since I am not doing anything for the first month or so, but who's complaining?

Now to get back to the house. When I walked in Adele was sitting in the play pen and no sooner did I walk in did she point her finger to a picture of me on the mantelpiece and say "Uncle Eddy.” To tell you all about her might make you homesick worse then I imaging you are so I'll just say that you have a very cute daughter and she is also very intelligent. I think she looks a lot like your mother and somewhat like you (although that is my opinion.)

I have been home a week and a half just relaxing and doing small jobs around the house. I have no civilian clothes, so next week I am going to equip myself for normal civilian life again. Prices are sky high and when you go in town to buy something you often don't have anything to show for the money you spend. So I am preparing to spend three-hundred dollars or shall I say my mustering-out pay for shoes and clothes.

I guess you wonder what I am going to do now, well, I am going to go to college (maybe University of Penna.), as soon as I rest up. Then I have to arrange the whole affair with the Veterans Administration. I am going to try drafting and engineering and I hope I make out good.

When I stroll down the neighborhood I notice how shabby and beat up it looks. Well, after all, help is hard to get and if you wish to rebuild anything today you need a priority. In spite of all I was never as happy to be back in Logan as I am now. It is very deserted, and all the fellows are overseas. They just started a blackout to conserve electricity and fuel. All advertising signs, movie and night club lights are turned off including anybody who owns a business.

It is hard to get anything of good quality unless you pay a high price for what you buy and then sometimes you can't even buy it. Cigarettes, oils, gum, good candy, and various other ideams [sic items] are hard to get. So if you request something you may in any event wait a while before you receive it. We are accumulating candy, gum, cigarettes, and film which you probably requested. As soon as we have enough we will ship the package off to you. Eve gave me your shoes and I packed them and mailed it off a few days ago.

We heard from Sy about a week ago and I presume he is now out at sea. Your brother Jack also wrote and he is still in New Guinea doing good. Your mother is looking very well and Goldie, Harry, and Diana are getting along fine. The house looks just the same and as nice as when you left it.

One thing I would like to ask you and that is about those pictures I gave you when you came up to see me at the hospital in August. Did you ever send them home or do you still have them?

First I want to say that as long as I was in England I always heard from you though I'm sure you could not say the same for me and second, seeing you at the hospital. I was hoping you would be able to receive that furlough for I knew it would be the last time I would see you although I couldn't write such a statement in my letters and like I said before I never was told I was leaving for the states. But I do want you to know that if there is anything I can do for you just write and I will be only too glad to. I don't know how you stand and I am no one to predict how long this war is going to last. Like all, I hope and pray that wherever you are that someone is watching, over you. We all look forward to your return home regardless when it is and I shall always remember that patience is a virtue and always pays off in the long run.

In closing this letter I hope you're in the best of health and feeling fine and that the English weather is the worst enemy you have to combat. With all due respects from both families and also from friends I send you my deepest regards for your continued health and happiness in the remaining time that will elapse until your safe return home once more.

With love from all,
Eddy

Post #572 - February 6, 1945 I'm Going to the Shower to be Held at Betty's House this Evening and I Admire Your Motives in Making the Trip to New York

 

Feb. 6, 1945

Dearest One,

I am banging this out before going into work, as I may not have the opportunity to write later in the evening. I'm going to the shower to be held at Betty's house this evening.

Dot called me first thing this morning to tell me that she is leaving tomorrow for Louisiana. She tried to reach Snuff at the hospital, but we he was not permitted to leave his bed to go to the phone. Snuff happened to hear the nurse say that, and when she left he quietly stole out of bed and called Dot. She told him she was coming down immediately and that sort of perked him up. He had been convalescing, but now he's back in the hospital cause his leg troubles him again.

Last night I was in the dumps, as I told you, and to sort of help myself along. I sat down and scribbled a sort of makeshift valentine to you, on a v-mail form. It isn't anything much, but it helped me out of my mood.

I feel pretty good today after a good night's rest. I showered and set my hair before going to bed and got to bed about 12. I slept uninterrupted till 7:45 and awoke feeling very refreshed. It's funny what a good night of sleep can do for you!

I didn't have any mail yesterday, except a letter from the War Bond Office stating that the matter is being transferred to your side. In case you hear anything about it, you may tell them that as far as you know I've received the Nov. bond, but I have not received the Dec. one. I shall finish this before leaving for the shower, as there may be some mall from you today.

There was no mail, baby, except a nice letter from Harry Weinman and he's very well pleased with his present setup.

It was like spring all day, in spite of the slush, ice and snow which continues to cover most everything. It's difficult to believe that Spring will soon be here. If only I knew I would see you then -

Clara Wagman called to confirm that she will be up tomorrow evening for dinner. I'm most anxious to pay her the money I owe her for the vitamin tablets. She got them for me way back in November.

So much for now, darling, and I'm just about ready to leave for the shower. I'm wearing my black velvet suit and dorsay shoes (even though they hurt) and the fuschia blouse Gloria gave me for my birthday last year - and the locket. Adele kept stalling me and making all sorts of excuses to keep me from going, but she finally relented. She's a good girl tonight. I love you, Phil - gee but it sounds good to say your name, sweet.

Your Eve

6 Feb 1945

Darling Chippie,

Just because I have plenty to say tonight, I don't have the time to say it in. That is life! The afternoon's mail brought me your very long and very moving letter of 16 Jan, telling all about your trip to New York. Sorry it couldn't have been a pleasure trip, honey, but I guess everything can't be for pleasure, can it? I'm very glad, Sweet, that you managed to see the Gutkins and Jackie N. By the way, you said something that led me to believe that all is not well with Jack Gutkin, but you did not make it clear. What happened to him? I had no idea, Chippie, that Jack N. thought so much and so often of me that he actually “missed” me! It makes me feel so much the worse when I think how long I haven’t written to him. However, my leave comes up on the 10th and this time ! really mean to catch up on my correspondence. Your letter also told the distressing news of Morris death, but I knew about it from subsequent letters that arrived previously. Glo's letter arrived by the same post, and I certainly enjoyed reading it. I particularly liked the way she acknowledged your visit. She writes “Your Chippie brightened the New York atmosphere by her presence this week-end” - which was, no doubt, more truth than flattery. She also mentions a “bull-session" you two had in bed one night  and dares me to guess the topic of your conversation. How many guesses do I get? Perhaps the most welcome letter of all that reached me today, though, was your V-mail of 26 Jan., which told (so dramatically) the glad tidings  of Eddie's return home for good - and I do mean good! God knows, it’s about time something happened in the family to give everyone a new lease on life! Give him my best, Sweet, and ask him if he won’t drop me a few lines. I took time out this morning to have three small cavities in my teeth filled - and how long is it since you visited the dentist, eh? Just time and space enough left, my darling, to tell you that  I admire your motives in making the trip to New York. It was a beautiful gesture, and I love you for it, but then, I love everything about you, Ev.

- down below, or way up here - I am 

Your adoring Phil
 

Post #571 - February 5, 1945 Tonight for Some Funny Reason I'm in a Terrible Mood and The News on All Fronts is Unprecedentedly Promising of an Early End of Resistance in Germany

 

Feb. 5, 1945

Dearest Phil,

Tonight for some funny reason I'm in a terrible mood. You can chalk it up to two factors, the fact that it is 18 months since I saw you, darling. and the news that Snuffy is really in bad shape.

Yesterday when I finished writing to you, I continued to iron and we had the company of all the Wymans and Chases for an hour. Shortly before they left Dot called me and she sounded very down in the dumps. She asked me come out to see her, as she was staying at her sister's house to take care of her niece as her sister and brother-in-law had to make a hurried visit to hospital to see a nephew of theirs who had been rushed to the hospital for an emergency operation. I was so weary I wanted to scream, but, nevertheless I promised to come out. I left the house immediately after dinner, took the bus, subway and the 13 car out to 55th & Chester Ave. Her sister lives in one of those new homes on Belmar Terrace and I had a wee bit of trouble finding it. To add to the difficulty, it started to hail and that made walking almost impossible. I finally found the house and Dot was glad to see me. She made sure to give me Adele's gift, which she had exchanged for a larger size and instead of giving me one jersey, she gave me two, a blue and a yellow with varied colored stripes.

Dot didn't know that Snuffy was quite so bad till yesterday, or rather Saturday when he wrote her in detail of his condition. He doesn’t have what he thought he did, he has thrumbosls, or blood clots forming in various parts of his body. Dot got a physician's opinion and learned that it is a hardening of the arteries and is a disease that occurs in older people. Snuff has three blood clots in one hand and four in his leg. The Army isn't doing anything for him at present and I doubt if they can do anything unless they transfer him to a large hospital where he can be attended by specialists. Snuff Is supposed to have a physical on Feb. 9th and perhaps the Army will transfer him then. Dot is waiting till then and as soon as he calls her she's leaving to join him and she isn't taking Harold along. Her mother has agreed to take care of Harold so that she may make the trip and she may stay indefinitely.

I stopped down to the wholesale place of Mr. Cohen, who used to live next door to my mother, to get something in the linen line for a gift for Abe’s wife-to-be. I settled for a tablecloth and six napkins that cost me $4.50. Tomorrow is the shower. Phil, dear, I'm very tired this evening and I still have to shower and set my hair so that I'll be able to look well tomorrow evening. By the way, Dot gave me quite a compliment yesterday. She said she never remembered me looking so swell, nor seeing my face so full. I was mildly shocked cause I was so very tired, having been on the go since 7 A.M. Dot took a cab home and I rode with her to 60th St. where I caught the el and then the subway. I walked home from Broad St. cause it was too late to get a bus, I got home in less than an hour, which is marvelous time. See you tomorrow, baby. I love you so much, dear one.

Your Eve



5 February 1945 

Dearest Evvie,

Today, sunny, and almost warm enough to qualify as a Spring day, was another busy one for me. I worked steadily all day on the Company History and managed to complete it by day’s end. 

There was no fresh mail today, and since the above just about covers everything I did since arising this morning, I’m kinda stuck for ideas to continue with this.—But don't go away—I’ll think of something—

Oh yes, - I noted with particular satisfaction that in your letter of 10 Jan, received yesterday, you included a paragraph from Yale and Shirley's letter that filled me with paternal pride and pleasure. The fact that Barbara's aunt and uncle, who no doubt thought as highly of her infant beauty as I did, could volunteer the opinion that they consider Adele "much prettier than Barbara was at her age" impressed me tremendously. It's a strange coincidence that I mentioned the dream I cherished for my daughter (that she be as pretty and personable as was Barbara) only a week or two ago. Gee, baby, is she as pretty as all that? I'm dying to see her, more so than ever before! Especially since I am convinced that she would recognize her dad, and tender him the welcome he is yearning to realize. Please, Ev, I must have a new picture of her - all of her! I'm remembering that I promised to have my picture made the very next time I get to town and I will, but it may be ten days or so before I'll be able to manage it.

The news on all fronts is unprecedentedly promising of an early end of resistance in Germany. I hope and pray that this time it is not merely an illusion. God knows, the world has suffered enough already.

Chippie, I'm extremely mortified that I can’t find the time for weeks on end now to write those letters that I want - to Mom, Goldie, Jack S., Jack N., Gloria, Dot, Lil, Milt, Syd, Mickey, and a few others. Hell - if I could only write one each day to one of them, I'd be caught up in about two weeks, but my daily letter to you takes just about all the spare time I have of an evening—it really does. The only alternative is to spend my “pass" time writing letters, and the last two times I couldn’t even manage it then. It annoys me no end and that it should be so, especially since I can’t expect all the aforementioned to understand why I don't have the time—I doubt if you do, darling. 

Whatever happens, though, I have determined that nothing will deny me the privilege of writing to you every day from now on - if it's humanly possible to do so. Give my love to all the folks, honey. Tell Adele how much her dad loves her—I think she might just understand. I'll tell you how much I love you, my Evvie, even tho you must have a pretty good idea—I adore  you.

Devotedly, Your Phil

February 5, 1945 - 19:00 (misdated 1944)

Dear Evelyn,

Here I am on my way back, about two hours from Chicago. Before I go any further, though, I’m stopping to say thanks, again, to all of you for a lovely time on my visit. In some way I can’t quite describe, I feel especially grateful to Mrs. Strongin. Perhaps it was because in addition to being just swell to me on every occasion that we meet, (which in itself warms my heart) she also chose to accept my viewpoint on Marjorie, rather than vehemently opposing it, though she feels as deeply about it negatively as any of my relatives will feel once they know. I could see it, I guess, and because I could, it is all the more sincerely that I say to you, Mrs. Strongin, “Thank you.”

Marjorie wrote and told me of how very happy I seemed in the letter I wrote that Monday night telling her of my visit. So you too, Ev, made me feel good.

I feel rather excited now that I’m only hours away from seeing Marge. Guess I’m really in love. Ev, she’s written some lovely letters to me in the past week. She really does love me. I know, by some of the things she says. She wants me to be very, very sure I love her, too, and above all to be honest in saying I don’t, if I don’t. She’ll be reassured when she receives a letter I wrote that crossed hers in the mails.

I had a lovely engagement ring made up, using one of the three diamonds in the big ring. Len did the same. Platinum was twice the price of white gold, so he and I chose white gold. I had pointed out to myself that very much depended on her parents’ acceptance of me as to whether or not Marjorie would be offered the ring. I don’t know if they accepted me when I visited them yesterday for six hours, but they couldn’t have been nicer to me had I been their son-in-law already. Here’s the hitch, though. I don’t know if they’re aware of our serious intentions. When I’ve seen Marjorie, I’ll tell you more. Anyway, they’re wonderful people.

Now I know how come Marjorie is such a swell girl. The only thing I wonder about is how come she isn’t beautiful ’cause her mother certainly is and her Dad is handsome. They have a lovely home. It isn’t at all lavish as I honestly had feared it might be. It was just very, very nice and anyone could see how wonderfully it was planned. Her Mom calls it “a nice place to grow old in.”

Ev, I returned the pin. I decided against buying it because I didn’t have the dough to do both that and get a new case, face, and wrist band for the Benrus movement I’m having done up to give to Marjorie. Max is doing that so it was easy to return the pin.

Well, kid, here’s where I quit, but not before saying I hope you’re all well and that the near future ought to bring you your loved ones ’cause you and they are surely deserving.

As ever,

Jackie

Feb. 5, 1945

Dear Evelyn,

I received your card and I thank you very much for your effort. Don’t bother about it anymore, as I will try and get it here. We are all fairly well thank you. See that you drop a card to me every now and then. Let’s here [sic] from you. Best regards to Mrs. Strongin. Keep well and smile. Regards to Phil. Regards from Phil. 

Love, Sonia (Forman)