Post #634 - April 21, 1945 Russian Troops are in Berlin at Long Last and V E Day Becomes More of a Reality Day by Day and What I Told You in V-Mail (19 Apr) Means Just What You Would Want It to Mean

 

4/21/45

Dearest Phil,

Today, after a long break, I received your long letter of 4/12/45 and v-mail of April 13th. It's a pity that the two had to arrive together, because I read the V-mail first, and after reading it I had a terrific urge to stuff both letters down your throat. After waiting for mail for what seemed like an eternity, to receive a letter of that type—

I have not received your "nasty" letter as yet, but from the contents of the v-mail I gather it is a very, very pretty letter. If you expected repercussions, there won't be any. My words have already taken effect, just as much as yours, in reply, hurt. Perhaps now you will understand how I felt when I first read that you had cut your allotment to me. It ate my heart out - but it doesn't bother me one little bit now. I know we heartily disagree on the matter of money. You hate being kept to a close budget and I despise it even more so than you, having Adele to think about. However, I must admit my disappointment at not being able to come to my husband in the matter of money. I always believed that charity started at home. In your letter of the 12th you quoted Mrs. Davies as follows: “Well, Philip, we must sacrifice something if we hope to attain anything, mustn't we?" This was in connection with Judith's schooling. I'm glad you feel that Judith is entitled to her fun and good times now - it's certainly more than I had at her age. First it was my rotten grandmother spoiling my life, then it was the Army - is it any wonder why I'm so tired of responsibility - it's more than you've experienced in the four years we've been married. Phil, ever since I gave birth to Adele the matter of finances to raise her has been mostly mine. When I felt I could no longer stand the strain I decided to return to work and though the added strain of a job proved difficult many times I have gained a peace of mind with it that I will not part with. Phil, you've described the life the Davies lead to perfection. Do you think you can ever make such a kind of life possible for me and Adele? You, personally, have made no effort in that connection - even though you do have the opportunity to save something to get you off to a good start once you come back. I have not touched one penny of the money you send me as savings, only because I want you to get started right. Doesn't it matter to you? When I didn't fully agree with you on the matter of a business you were ready to give up. Phil, I wonder whether you realize how important it is that you have financial stability once the war is over. Are we to continue living in someone else's house, having others help us pay our bills - that's been eating my heart out for all of two years now. You'll never be able to get even as much as a start unless you have something to start with. I get so darn full talking about it that I want to bawl all over the place.

The packages have already gone off and I do not feel that I had to give up anything to send them. I merely gave that particular incident as an example of some of the things I want to do and cannot as often as I should like to. Nor will I give up savings to do it because savings do matter very much to me. I have stuck to my guns for almost a year now and when my year is up I'll be able to show something for it. You needn't squander your savings on mere gifts for me or send me any of your savings to show off. I deeply appreciate your thoughtfulness, baby, and it made me inexpressably happy to receive your gifts. You were the one, not me, that offered the allotment, and that made me very happy. Have it your way - as long as you're happy about it.

Your detailed letter of the 12th about your trip to Meadowcroft would have made very interesting reading under other circumstances. As it was, I had little taste for anything.

Harry Weinman writes that he may be shipped back to the States to a hospital for further medical care. I think that would do him more good than anything.

Incidentally, our Harry says that business is picking up and from what I can glean he makes in the neighborhood of about $100 per week, providing it stays this way. He'll make much more when the season gets underway. Harry and Goldie themselves are shining examples of how the financial aspect affects married life. When Harry wasn't making enough the going was tough and rough. It isn't difficult to see how satisfied they are that they do not have to keep to a strict budget. Goldie expects to spend the entire summer in Poughkeepsie with her folks with Diana. Harry sometimes works seven days a week and probably will keep up the practice as the summer sets in. He doesn't mind her leaving him here, as he realizes that it will be a complete rest for her.

I stopped at Lorstan after work today and there were only 200 people ahead of me (I'm not exaggerating on the figure one bit). I told her I couldn't wait and would stop back some other time. Ruth got her finished photo today and the coloring, which only cost her $3 is awful. If they finish off Adele's picture like that I'll positively slug them. I intend to stop there one day before going to work.

There isn't much else to say. I worked, came home, fed Adele and put her to bed. She was very annoying and kept bothering me every two minutes for something else. It was ten o'clock when I finally managed to come down and get started on this. Mom went to the movies with Mrs. Frommer to see "And Now Tomorrow". I had hoped to join Sylvia and Miriam in town this evening for some much needed recreation and relaxation - but a mother has no choice regardless of what she needs. It's very late and I'm very worn and sleepy.

Tomorrow I shall try to catch up on my recreation by getting out with Adele. I’ll have to get to bed early, for Monday evening, after Adele has had her injection, is always a bad one and I want to be rested.

Sylvia has the snaps that we took when I visited her and says they turned out nicely. I may see her tomorrow and if so, will include the snaps with this letter, providing she will give them to me.

Russian troops are in Berlin at long last and V E day becomes more of a reality day by day.

April 22, 1945 

Sorry I had to end off so abruptly last night, but a splitting headache made me call it quits. Adele kept me up most of the night - and I don't know why. Consequently, I am still tired and aim to catch a nap, if she will permit. I was up fairly early and cleaned our room thoroughly, as it was in need of a good cleaning. Adele and I stayed out from 11:45 till 12:30 when I brought her in for lunch. It is now 2 o'clock and she isn't asleep yet. Methinks I shall dress her again and keep her up till six, at which time she will go to sleep pronto. See you later - 

I kept Adele up and she was fast asleep at 6:15, after a hot bath and dinner, Sylvia came and I detest the snaps. Both Adele and I look awful, so I'm not sending them along. I'm kind of weary, but since Syl came up for dinner and we have nothing to do, I'm going to take in a movie with her. I'll say so long for now and want to tell you just once more that I love you ever so much and that love grows in spite of our differences. Good night, baby, and sure do wish you were my date.

Your Eve

21 April 1945

Dearest Chippie,

All settled in our new hut now. I'm dashing this off before making for the ablution and a much-needed shower. Just got back from the movies, where Klein and I saw "Practically Yours" with Fred MacMurray and Claudette Colbert. It is the type of comedy I always enjoy. Sorry I couldn't write these past few nights, darling, but we've been up to our ears in work, and what with moving and all, I hardly had time to breathe. Your letter of 8-9 Apr arrived on the 19th. It contained the snaps of the punkin. I won't pretend that they were much good - you know better and the one in which you appear was poor, too, unfortunately. However, this afternoon brought your letter of 11 Apr (which is pretty good for Air Mail) with that very nice snap of Mom and you and Adele. Too bad Rae didn't get more of herself into the picture. Mom looks nice and streamlined, and better than I've seen her looking in years. Adele, bless her, looks like she'd been holding her breath too long, and you, my sweet, look absolutely adorable, which means that you look just like the Chippie I remember. As a matter of fact, it is so good a likeness that I caught my breath when I looked at it. The contents of the letter were partly in answer to my longie of 20-24 Mar. I was very happy with your explanation, Sweet, and it served to put my doubts at rest. But about Petey's remark - I can't imagine how he bases his opinion of me. He certainly never knew me well enough to really "know" me, which, of course, if he meant it sincerely, makes the remarks all the more flattering. You also tell about receiving the bracelet. I learned in a later V-mail that you broke it accidentally. That’s too bad, honey, ’cause you could have made it fit your wrist by merely immersing it for a few moments in hot water, which would make it pliable enough to bend to shape. But don't feel badly about it, baby - I'll try to get another one - only nicer. Tell Ethel for me that I wanted to write to Harry, but never did get the opportunity. I'll try to do so within the next few days. By the way, dearest, what I told you in V-mail (19 Apr) means just what you would want it to mean. I love you. When you're dreaming about the future, darling, don't forget to include 

Your adoring Phil

P.S. Mm-hm!

Post #633 - April 18–20, 1945 Am in the Air Corps Now and The Death of Ernie Pyle was Another Blow

 

18 April 1945

Dear Evie:

[Change of Address Form]: Cpl. Phil Strongin - 33051975

866 Air Engineering Sqdn., 440 Air Service Group

APO No. 559, c/o  Postmaster, New York.

Working day and night, honey, accomplishing the “paper work” necessary to the change-over. Am in the Air Corps now. - Still at same base. Maybe good news later. Will write as soon as possible. Love to all. I adore you, my darling.

Ever,

Your Phil

April 20, 1945

My dearest one,

There will be no letters for the 18th and 19th simply because I skipped writing intentionally. I haven't had mail for days and I'm getting tired with a one-sided correspondence. I know it isn't your fault, that you must be writing once in a while, but I find it extremely difficult to write at all, even when I may have something of interest to discuss. Perhaps something new will come through tomorrow or the beginning of next week. Tomorrow will be the 21st and I have had but two communications (2 and 5 April) for the entire month. However, we'll drop the subject immediately, for it is for this reason that I skipped writing. I didn't want to bore you with my disgusted feelings -

Harry Weinman sent us each (Mom, Goldie and myself) a box of Coty's face powder. I intend to write and thank him over the weekend. Wednesday night I wrote a letter to the Benis’ and started a letter to the Davies. I gave up writing the latter when I was half through, for my patience ran out.

Last night, on the spur of the moment, I decided to go out to Dot's. As soon as Adele was asleep (about 8:45) I left and arrived at Dot's at about 9:35. My main purpose in going out there was to pick up your "manuscript". While there Dot showed me some sets of underwear that her Aunt had gotten for Harold. They consist of a summer shirt and button-on panties. I usually pay about $1.35 for such a set and her aunt only paid 59¢ per set! Dot gave me one of Harold's sets to try on Adele for size - a size six. It fits her perfectly, but we both decided to buy size eight due to the fact that most underwear shrinks after continual washing. I ordered four sets. We sat about (Dot's aunt, dad sister, Dot and myself) and chatted until 11, had coffee and cake and compared pictures, I learned that Lorstan charges $3 to color a photo. Since this is the case I am not going to have your 5x7 photo colored. Instead of paying $7 for one 5x7 in color, I am going to order 3 of the 5x7 shots plain, at a cost of $5.50. We’ll have the large 8x10 in color, so I can see no sense to coloring the other. Of course if you insist upon having the 5x7 shot colored I shall be glad to oblige. Kindly advise, baby, I would like to give one picture to my folks and the other to Mom. I don't want to spend too much at Lorstan's because Gloria is coming to Philly shortly and we're going to have family pictures made as I promised.

The death of Ernie Pyle was another blow. Seems like God is taking all the humanitarians off this earth. I'm beginning to wonder if there is a God.

I was offered a full time job in an insurance office (9 to 5 daily and 9 to 12 Sat) at 35.00 per week. It seems to me that I can't do much better as far as money is concerned, than I am doing at my present job. Dot was telling me that a serviceman's wife can join the Blue Cross plan as an individual, so I’ve asked her to get me the necessary forms. By the way, Dot is also a working gal. She works from one to seven every day but Monday at a bakery near the Mayfair Theatre and receives $20 per week. I just have room to say I love you so much baby!

Your Eve

Post #632 - April 17, 1945 I Just Wish You Could See the Look that Comes into Adele’s Eyes When She Gazes at Betty Jane and Some Day, Baby, We'll Have a Look at Stuff I Have Written These Past Thirteen Months

 

April 17, 1945

My sweet,

Last night was terrific! This time Adele couldn't "hold It" until I got her into the bathroom. And she had much more to throw up! Well, don't ask. After I got her all cleaned up and the bed all changed she did a repeat performance, so I had to start cleaning up all over again. This time I put a small blanket at the top of the bed. Sure enough she started up again, but the last few times I got her into the bathroom. The whole ordeal made me very sick in my stomach and I have very little taste for anything today. There was no mail from you and I can't help wondering at the cause of the delay.

I know you wrote on the 4th and realize that you must have skipped writing when you visited Meadowcroft, but for the most part, the mail has again slowed up. And then again, perhaps V-E day has a lot to do with it. Nevertheless I shall be most grateful when the mail comes through more regularly. I find that I'm in better spirits and have more taste for writing.

Adele always feels much better after her "throwing-up spell" and was her normal self again this morning. I half expected her to be cranky, but she was most congenial. Getting up was another ordeal for me. Adele was most impatient to get downstairs and kept urging me to take her downstairs. When she wakes in the morning I take her to the bathroom, at her request, and when we return to the bedroom she always insists upon getting in bed with me. Up to this time I had not the strength for her fussing, getting up and down, etc. but here of late she relaxes a bit with me and doesn't tire me as greatly, so I enjoy having her in bed with me. (sure do wish it was a threesome!). She hugs me and kisses me and tells me stories and hides under the covers. When I become annoyed, she lays still for a few minutes to enable me to snatch a few more winks. I leave her in our bed while I wash and dress. I give her something to occupy her, such as a box, a toy or her shoes and the laces (she likes to lace her shoes and usually makes me a tangled mess that takes ten minutes to undo) and go downstairs to make her orange juice. She has never gotten off our bed when I go downstairs, just as though it were an unspoken law. In fact, she'll never get off unless I tell her to. It takes just a few minutes to make the juice and I bring it up along with her oil. While she's drinking, I make up my face and straighten the room. Then I dress her and she plays with her blocks until I make the beds, mop the floor, etc. When the room is finished and we are both dressed, we go down for breakfast. After breakfast I clean up and make a sandwich for my lunch. At this point I signal my mother and advise her that I am ready to leave or will be ready at such and such a time. I still do not permit Adele to go up and down the stairs alone (most of the girls criticize me for it) although I do allow her to go on her own, with me a few steps ahead, just in case. I suppose I'll get over this business soon and allow her the privilege, which I know she'd enjoy. Phil, I just wish you could see the look that comes into her eyes when she gazes at Betty Jane. She just loves Betty Jane! And I see that I've filled this form, much to my amazement. It's really difficult to write when there is no mail from you. I love you, Phil, and I hope you'll soon be with

Your Eve

17 April 1945

Darling Chippie,

We are enjoying unprecedently fine weather these days in "rainy” England. One could not wish for a more beautiful Spring day than was today. The weather, coupled with the good news from the fighting fronts, and some very interesting developments, which are taking on a very intriguing aspect (wish I could tell you about them) here, all served to put me in very good spirits. However, I was much too busy to pay much attention to anything but my work, the need to get which done is getting increasingly pressing. You would be surprised, honey, at the terrific amount of paper work involved in running an organization such as this one. Absolutely nothing is left to chance or taken for granted. Every phase of our work, activities, and our supplies and equipment are reported on regularly. Some of the records, such as the payroll, all personnel records, Company History, etc. will wind up in the National Archives in Washington. I understand that the Company Histories will be open to examination to the public a few years after the war ends. Some day, baby, we'll have a look at stuff I have written these past thirteen months.

There was no fresh mail from you, Sweet, or anyone, for that matter, but two big packages arrived from Gloria. They contained tuna, salmon, jam, five big Nestles bars, crackers, a quiz book, "Kitty Foyle" (I remember you read that), and possibly a few other things I’m forgetting at the moment. Gloria has been most considerate in the matter of packages and correspondence, and she is one of the people it hurts me to remember I haven't written to in too long a time.

What ever became of "Betty Jane", honey? She was supposed to come and live with the punkin on 28 Mar (your birthday, lest you think I can mention that date without realizing its significance) and I’ve had letters from you up to 10 Apr but still no word that she has put in an appearance. - And I rather thought the bracelet would have arrived by then, too.

Hope the punkin is well over the ill-effects of her recent immunizations, darling. It warmed her daddy's heart to hear her Mommy speak so proudly of her courage both through and after the ordeal. I have to smile to myself some times, Chippie, at your very obvious efforts to impress me with your "blase" attitude towards the attainments and charms of our daughter. You lean over backwards to give the idea that you are unprejudiced, and I can feel that you try very hard to look at her through a stranger's eyes when you describe what must be her very considerable charms.

18 April 1945 

Was interrupted and couldn’t continue this until tonight. We are in the throes of moving from one hut to another, so I’ll just finish this V-mail and fill out a change-of-address form—To continue with what I was saying above—the point I was trying to make was that your adoration of Adele will not be hidden by any words of yours, regardless of how nonchalant you mean them to sound. So you may as well break down and tell me how you really feel about her. You can tell me, Sweet. I’m her dad, remember? 

Good-night for now, honey, and don't forget to kiss the punkin for me. Tell her she is to kiss Mommy for me.

Your Phil

Post #631 - April 16, 1945 I Listened to a Rebroadcast of President Truman's Address to Congress and I Still Find It Difficult to Picture You as a Mother

 

April 16, 1945

Dearest Phil,

I am starting this at work, a few minutes before leaving work and there isn't much I have to say. Mom called this afternoon to tell me that there was a V-mail from you. I happened to comment, just before she called that here it was the 16th of April and I had only received one communication from you dated in April. So now it's two and I hope to hit a belated jackpot one of these days.

The weather was bad all day and my feelings matched perfectly. I had a dull headache and was thankful for the fact that there wasn't any work of important nature to be done.

Tonight I must take Adele to Dr. Gayl's for her fourth injection and I'm dreading the visit already. Poor kid - I'll be glad when it's all over for her, too. Most likely I'll get the opportunity to write a little when I get back, providing I'm not too exhausted. The trip always tires me greatly and I'm very happy when I can "hit the sack".

Well, honey, it's "all over” for tonight. She cried before he even as much as touched her. Before injecting the needle he stuck a lollipop into her mouth and I distracted her as much as possible and it worked. It was drizzling when I left and when I returned. I got a nice bus driver going down and he left me off right in front of Dr. Gayl's office, which is a half block past Broad and Allegheny. I have to give her two more injections and bring her back a month later for her Dick test. Need I tell you how happy I shall be when this is all over!

Your v-mail of April 2nd, received today, informed me that you had seen "Mrs. Parkington" and that you enjoyed it as much as I did. Outside of that I can find nothing to comment on. I stopped at the bank this morning to withdraw $53.82 for Adele's insurance and malled off the check this evening. This payment was our third. It seems like we took the policy out last week when you look back on it. When I look ahead that much time it is ages and ages away. I listened to a rebroadcast of President Truman's address to Congress. He's not the speaker Roosevelt was, but I feel certain that he will prove himself in due time.

Darling, I am so tired I can't sit up, so I know you'l excuse me if I cut this short with a hug, a kiss and my usual, I love you, baby, so much and I'll be so happy when it will no longer be necessary to express ourselves through this medium. Good night, sweet, I am and adore being

Your Eve

16 April 1945

My Darling,

Received the package containing the candies, cigarettes, and Adele’s picture. Thanks for the package, Sweet, and especially for the picture, ’cause to date this is the one I like best of all. Even if the quality of the picture is bad, the punkin was caught in a perfectly spontaneous pose, and I think she looks sweet enough to eat, and altogether adorable. My thanks to Eddie, too, for the trouble he took to wrap and post the package. It arrived in perfect condition. There was also your V-mail of 10 Apr., which told me all about your latest trip to Dr. Gayl with the punkin. I’m sorry, honey, that I couldn’t have been there to give you a hand (I’m hoping to be on hand when it’s time for Adele to have her tonsils removed), and I realize how very trying and tiring it must be for you, but I’m glad that you are taking such good care of her. I only pray that I will be able to acquit myself as nobly as a father as you have thus far as a mother.—Believe it or not, Chippie, after all the time I’ve had to get used to the idea, I still find it difficult to picture you as a mother.—Guess I’ll never be able to get over the feeling of amazement that you are capable in the role. Somehow, the image of the kid in the “cowgirl dress” who was always so delightfully “around” at Chestnut St. keeps recurring to me, and I find it impossible to identify her with the charming young mother who is my wife, and who so easily adapted herself to the job of rearing her daughter and mine. You must think I’m nuts that I think about all this as I do, but it does seem so wonderful to me—I think it always will!

The weather was ideal today, but my activities were nothing if not unremarkable. Still very busy, and trying to catch up. Enjoyed “Murder my Sweet” last night. It was a very cleverly produced action film. The acting was excellent and the story interesting.

My best love to you, my Evie, a kiss for Adele, and my love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil

Post #630 - April 15, 1945 Mom Spent the Weekend with the Bader's and I'm at My Wits' End About What to Do to Catch Up with My Correspondence

 

April 15, 1945

My darling,

My visit with the Browns yesterday turned out very nicely. Sylvia came over and before I left Yale, Shirley, Uncle Sam and Pauline came in. It was good to see them once more and we talked about many things. During the discussion I learned that Lena is pregnant (three months). She wants another girl, but Bob will kill her if it is. Yale gained a lot of weight. Among other things, Yale told me that Billy Cooper was shipped overseas on March 15th and is at the fighting front in Germany. Shirley Is carrying very nicely, but, in my opinion, doesn't look so well. I don't think Yale is as good-looking as he used to be. His face is too full and not as handsome as it once was. Bob is taking on jobs singing in night clubs, etc. and ought to make some headway as a singer, cause he is good. Uncle Nish made a wonderful job on Adele’s shoes, as is usually his custom, refused payment for his work. I feel funny about his doing it for me and hate to ask him, but in this case I felt I could rely on him better the the shoemakers around here. Yale and Shirley drove me to the 47 trolley (they were using Yale's car) and I was home at 4:45. Adele and I had dinner at my mother’s cause I didn't feel like fussing with food. Mom spent the weekend with the Bader's and came home just a short while ago. Mom asked me to ask you whether you remember a Mrs. Garfinkel, who used to live upstairs when you lived at 3rd and Cantrell. Mom saw her yesterday and recognized her, although they had not seen each other for 28 years. The Baders took Mom to a Jewish show and showed her a good time. After dinner, Adele had her daily bath and so to bed. I spent the balance of the evening taking a shower and ironing. By the time I had finished ironing I was so tired I didn't know what to do with myself. Since It was after 11 I went straight to bed. Today I became unwell, so now I know why I was so tired yesterday. Fay came over about 10:30 with Marcy and I was just about ready to take Adele out, so we walked together for a while and then went over to sit on her porch. An open porch is a blessing with a child in the house! When the kids tired of playing they came over and wanted to be hugged. We each took our respective kids and lay them in the crook of our arms and swung slightly back and forth on the glider, singing lullabyes the while. Fay was in a very dejected mood. I left at 12 to give Adele lunch and stopped at Betty’s before getting home. After Adele had lunch and was in bed I ironed two more pieces, had my lunch and then took a nap for 3/4 of an hour. When Adele awoke I gave her some milk and let her run around in the driveway. She had dinner at six, had her bath, and so on, bringing me up to date. I have a splitting headache and intend to go right to bed when I finish writing this. I listened to the radio until the burial of President Roosevelt was over and even stood at attention for one minute as they asked. By the way, Yale makes plexi-glass jewelry and promised when he next visits us that he will see if he can do anything with the bracelet. If not, perhaps he will be able to make up another. I told Adele that I'm taking her on the bus tomorrow to see Dr. Gayl. She didn’t get as excited as usual. Instead, she said quietly, “Mom he hurt me." I explained that he's trying to make her well, etc. to get her to understand. I love you so much, baby, and am wanting you so acutely at this moment that I could cry. Night, honey.

Your Eve

15 April 1945

Dearest Chippie,

Fresh out of Air-Mail envelopes, and because I didn't write last night, I thought I'd sorta compensate by typing this V-Mail. Didn't write last night because, after getting back from the movies, I suddenly got very tired and the sack looked too tempting to resist. It had been a very lovely but very busy day for me and I really needed the rest. The picture was one you saw a long time ago and liked very much - Summer Storm. I think they would do well to film more of Chekhov's stories, 'cause they lend themselves very well to screen adaptation. I've often wondered, too, why they never made movies of some of Balzac's works. Certainly some of his more “innocent” stories would make wonderful films. Tonight, after I finish this, I'm going to see a picture I've heard nothing about - “Murder, my Sweet", with Dick Powell, Claire Trevor, Anne Shirley, Otto Kreuger, and a guy I used to see wrestle in the Philly Arena - Mike Mazurki. Tell you about it tomorrow -.

Ran into Marty Weinstein in the Mess Hall this afternoon and he showed me a letter from his mother saying that she and Mr. Weinstein were going to visit you that evening (6 Apr). I don't remember you mentioning that the Weinsteins live near "us", honey, but I do remember that I mentioned Marty on at least one occasion (he shared the food package you sent). We have also played ping-pong together, and I think I mentioned him in that connection, too. He is a very nice kid, a great thinker (even though he thinks too much about the wrong things ), and a very interesting conversationalist. I've spent more than one evening talking to him. His folks might be interested in knowing that he is having far less trouble with his speech these days than when I first met him about a year ago. His tendency to nervous habits is lessening too, I think, although he hasn't quite conquered it. However, I noticed that he is much more at his ease when absorbed in conversation than he is at other times. On second thought, Ev, maybe you'd better not talk to his folks about his nervousness lest it distress them. However, if they bring up the subject, you can tell them what I've said. I really do think he is improving.

Your V-mail of 6 Apr, which arrive yesterday, said nothing about the Weinsteins, so I gather they either came after you had posted your letter, or they postponed the visit. There was no fresh mail today.

Still reading your last batch of letters, and I note that you, too, have been neglecting Jack N. I'm at my wits' end about what to do to catch up with my correspondence. Even Dottie, whom you must have told why I haven't been able to write, in her latest letter implies (with reason, of course) that I've been neglecting her. I can just imagine what both Jacks, Milt Brown, Clara Wagman, Goldie, Eddie and others who have written to me without reply must be thinking! Truthfully, Sweet, there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day for me. I'm busier than ever before in the Orderly Room, which makes writing during the day out of the question. In the evening, I simply have to have a few hours “away from myself" to keep my nerves within bounds. That is why I go to the movies so frequently. The remaining hour or two is set aside to get off my daily letter to you. If we were only on a 6-day work week basis, I'm sure I wouldn't be having this trouble with my correspondence, but every day is "Monday" around here. However, if the war in Europe should end within the next few days or weeks (as it looks very much like it will), there is a possibility that we will have a day off each week, Halevei Gottenu! Just room and time enough to wish you a very fond good-night, my darling. You know I love you - A kiss for my (all right - our) adorable punkin. Love to all.

Devotedly,

Your Phil

Post #629 - April 13, 14, 1945 Was Surprised to Learn that Brother Jack Gained 20 Pounds and Whoever Thought that Roosevelt would Die before Hitler or Hirohito! and A Letter from Seymour Paller

 

13 April 1945

Evie, darling,

In looking over your recently arrived letters, I note only a few questions that require answering—yes, Sweet, you may tell Eddie that all the packages arrived in perfect condition, and yes, I saw “Keys to the Kingdom” about a week ago and liked it very much—but I thought I wrote about it at the time (on the 5th or 6th April). Was surprised to learn that brother Jack gained 20 pounds. I always thought that the tendency in tropical climates was to lose weight rather than gain. I note that you are readying a coupla more packages for me. After reading what I said on the subject of packages in a recent letter, I rather think you’ll think me an ungrateful hound, but I do feel guilty about accepting any more, and wish that you would discontinue the practice. I can get along very nicely without them, and since they run into important sums, with which you might buy more practical things, I can’t help feeling that you are depriving yourself and the punkin for my edification—and I’d much rather you wouldn’t. I’m happy to report that I’ve managed to get a few pounds ahead in my finances. I’m almost tempted to send my savings off to you just to show off, but I’ve thought better of it. You may depend on it, though, darling, I won’t sacrifice my savings again by “squandering” them on more gifts. You’ve cured me of that reprehensible trait for good and all. Does that please  you, honey? I’m sorry, Sweet, if I’m bitter about it, but the whole rotten business keeps eating my heart out— Besides, it’s much too nice an evening to feel bitter about anything. As a matter of fact, the sweet Spring breeze blowing thru the open door have brought nostalgia crowding. At the moment, I am conscious only of an overpowering longing to have you close to me, that I might cuddle you and fondle you and show you how very much I love you, my own sweet darling— (appropriately—also distractingly—a nearby radio is giving out with “Just A-Wearying for You”). My best love to my very own punkin—forgot to tell you how taken the Davies’ were with her latest pictures. I felt very proud when everyone remarked at her resemblance to me. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I really think she looks like me, too, don’t you baby? Just room enough to say I adore you, my Evie. Love to all from

Your Phil

April 14, 1945

Dearest hubby,

I wrote a v-mail yesterday and when I read it this morning I found that I sounded too morbid, so I tore it up. Consequently, there will be no letter for the 13th. Even when I wrote to you on Thursday of Roosevelt's death it was still too unbelievable to be real. The full impact and meaning slowly and surely made itself known and felt as the radio keeps blasting away with nothing but Roosevelt. I'm wondering whether you heard the news at midnight of the 12th or the next morning. It was announced that BBC broadcast the news to London at midnight, just as Big Ben struck midnight and heralded Friday, the 13th! Riding to work yesterday, it wasn’t wasn't hard to see how much each and every person was affected. Many were red-eyed. The thick, black headlines, "Roosevelt Dead” cut deep. I can't read the story of his life or gaze at the many, many half mast flags that are hung outside of each house to his memory, without having tears come to my eyes. Whoever thought that Roosevelt would die before Hitler or Hirohito! What do you think of our new President? That is about the main topic of conversation.

All movies, department stores, restaurants, etc. are closed today, many bearing signs. "In honor to our beloved President, Franklin D. Roosevelt, we will be closed all day.” That is, every place is closed, but Bellet. I am typing this at work, just before leaving. I am going straight out to the Brown's, where I must pick up Adele's one and only pair of shoes. They had to be heeled and soled and I hated to trust the neighborhood shoemakers with the job. The shoes are worn, but they fit her and she will be able to use them for some time before I discard them. They don't look too badly when I clean them up. I am going to make an appointment with Dr. Lefkoe some time this week and I get her a much needed new pair. Eddie took her shoes out yesterday and she has had to wear her bedroom slippers since. Tant asked me to have lunch there, as Sylvia will also be there. I won't stay long, however, as I want to get home and take Adele off my mother's hands.

There was no mail from you yesterday, but I did receive a nice letter from Milt, containing two snaps. "He looks very well in spite of everything. Yesterday was Harry and Goldie's second anniversary and I sent them a card. I would have liked to give them a gift, but unfortunately I am terribly low on funds and will be for the next few weeks. I had intended to go to Lorstan's, but it will have to wait until next week. I'm sorry about the delay but it can't be helped. The bracelet is holding since I pasted it, but I still would like to know if anything can be done to make it smaller or repair it.

I hope there is some mail from you for me when I get home. Will let you know if there was tomorrow, as I want to post this immediately. Guess you know, baby, that I love you very dearly, but I'm sure you won't mind if I repeat it just once more. The war is expected to be over in a few days and though victory will be sweet, it would have been sweeter had Roosevelt been here to share it. I pray we'll soon be together. A kiss from Adele and one from

Your Eve

April 14, 1945

Somewhere in the Pacific

Dear Phil,

How are you. I’m fine and hope you are the same. Received your address from Eve for the third time today. Only this time I made up my mind to write to you before I lose it. Though many things have happened lately, there are few, if any, I can mention to you now. So far I have seen a little action, had a few experiences and saw some of the world. As Eve tells me, Adele is some devil. What a kid. They only come one in a million like this and you’ve got it. Hope you enjoyed your seven day leave in London. Phil, I wonder if there are some chances of you getting discharged after the war with Germany collapses. Maybe you’ll get one anyway. I’m hoping you do. I got a few pictures of Ed. He looks pretty good. I’m sure glad he’s all well again. That’s about all for now.

Love,

Brother Sy

Seymour Paller [?]

Post #628 - April 12, 1945 Harry W. Thinks You are Mad at Him or That He Didn't Treat You Right When You Visited Him and Here on the Eve of Victory, After Doing So Much to Make It Possible, Our Great President has Passed Away

 

April 12, 1945

My darling,

I hardly know how to say this, cause I'm sure you'll feel just as badly as I do about it. I broke the bracelet quite by accident first thing this I morning and I feel so badly I can't throw off the mood. It cracked right on the side of the heart and I felt as though something inside of me cracked. I could never use the bracelet as it was, so I can't understand why I'm so let down. Can it be melted and remolded, or could you possibly have another made slightly smaller in diameter than this one? I have neither a bracelet or a wrist watch and would very much like to have one or the other. I've even thought of matching a bracelet to the moonstone set, but I wear the moonstone set so infrequently that I wouldn't think of it at the moment. Everyone thinks the bracelet is lovely and different and the workmanship is perfect. Exactly how do they shape these things anyway. Shall I send it back to you if it can be repaired! I shall be waiting your reply and hope that something can be done.

Mom and Ethel have both been asking me to write a little on Harry W. It seems that all his letters to the folks contain information that he is most disappointed at not hearing from you. He thinks you are mad at him or that he didn't treat you right when you visited him, so both Mom and Ethel have prevailed upon me to get you to drop him a line and reassure him, as he feels very, very badly about it. How's about it?

Phil, I am writing this after work - I just received the terrible news of President Roosevelt's demise and it has taken so much out of me that I am shaking. It is not even as much a blow to the nation as it is to the Jews in particular. How could God be so cruel! He was so tired! God grant that those who follow in his path be as good and wholesome as he was. It's so awful, just the thought of it. Naturally, I didn't believe it at first, but it is true and a shock to every single person who loved and respected him.

It's really difficult to say anything after the shock, but I do want to tell you that Betty Jane finally arrived and she is positively lovely. In fact she is the loveliest doll Adele now possesses. The company who forwarded Betty Jane is one of the company's from whom we purchase most of our dolls and they make nice stuff. I'm still heartbroken about the bracelet and will see If I can do anything to have it repaired. If it isn't possible, would it be asking too much to have another made? I'd also like to have two tiny hearts of plexi-glass that could be made into earrings, so that it would be a complete set. I put the bracelet together with Duco cement and it seems to be holding, but I can't wear it as it is because it is too large for me. If you will recall I have very, very tiny wrists. But enough of the bracelet. Adele is as pleased as punch with her new asset and I'm sure were you here you'd receive your full share of loving sentiments from her. In the meantime I'll have to send them along with an equal portion, and perhaps more, of my love for you. I received your v-mall of April 5th today and it requires no comment. I shall await your letter of the date previous. I am and always will be

Your Eve

12 April 1945

Dearest Darling,

I've been and come from the Davies'. That doesn't sound like much in so many words, but I assure you it was quite an experience. In the first place, it was a very long trip to make just to be able to spend a full day with my friends at Meadowcroft, but I expected the visit to be worth the trouble before I ever started, and I'm pleased to state that I wasn't one whit disappointed. There was one drawback, however, Sweet, and I'm hoping that you will overlook it. As usual, I spent the evening before going on pass getting ready for it, i.e. bathing, shaving, and getting my clothes in order. That is why I couldn't write on that date. I left camp at 12:30 on the afternoon of the ninth and after riding constantly 'til 12:15 A.M., arrived finally in Middlesbrough, where Doctor Davies and Commander Healy met me. About 8 o'clock in the evening, when I changed trains at Doncaster and had an hour to kill, I called them on the phone. Realizing that I would get into Middlesbrough about midnight, I told the Doctor that I would stay over in a hotel there and come out in the morning. But he wouldn't hear of it and insisted on meeting the train regardless of the time it arrived. Naturally, I felt rather guilty about keeping him up so late and tried to dissuade him, but he just wouldn't have it any other way. The trip up, while it was long, was neither tedious or boring. Three of my buddies were going to Doncaster, and I had them for company that far. They played pinochle while I read Thorne Smith's "The Bishop's Jaegers". It is an extremely entertaining book, and I was thankful for the opportunity to read it. I finished it just before we reached Doncaster. It was certainly good, when I was waiting my turn to show my travel warrant at the gate at the end of my journey, to see Dr. Davies and the Commander waiting just beyond. They both greeted me very warmly, and as tired as I was, I felt immediately that I had been repaid for the long trip by the hearty grip and welcoming smiles of these two gentlemen. We piled into the Doctor's car, and arrived at Meadowcroft in a matter of twenty or so minutes. Mrs. Davies was up and waiting for me and greeted me with every show of pleasure. For my part, I was so glad to see that dear lady that I had to restrain an impulse to kiss her. Next time, I'll not bother to restrain that impulse. Judith and her school chum, Elizabeth had waited 'til 11:30 for me to put in an appearance, but Mrs. Davies insisted then that they should turn in. An Australian flyer, Lt. Charles Carey, an old friend of the Davies', who was spending his twelve-day leave at Meadowcroft, was also waiting up for me. After the introductions and the usual amenities were disposed of, Mrs. Davies brought out cheese and bread and beer and I broke my long fast. I was starved, and I don't remember anything ever tasting as good as did that midnight snack. We all finally retired about 1:30. I shared Commander Healy's room with him. The beds were just big enough for one person apiece, but very comfortable. At that, I was so weary I could have slept on the floor! In the morning, I awoke about 9:30, and much as I would have liked to lay abed awhile longer, I thought I had better get up, 'cause I heard the others at breakfast downstairs. Accordingly, I made haste to shave, wash and dress. When I came downstairs and into the dining room, the others were all at table. First, I was introduced to a newcomer, an American G.I. from Mississippi who had just arrived about 7 o clock in the morning from London, where he works in the Judge Advocate's office. His name is Carl Weil, he is about 33 years old, and was a practicing lawyer in civilian life. Then I was introduced to Judith, who is deserving of a detailed and long description. She was, I noticed immediately, wearing navy blue shorts that revealed an athletic pair of legs (you can stop smirking, now, dear). Somehow, I had expected her to be dark-haired, and for that reason, I, at first glance thought that Elizabeth, her black-haired chum, was Judith. However, the girl I met had a great quantity of dark blonde hair worn loose and long (I know I don't have to remind you, honey, that I was always partial to that type of hair-do - or would "hair-don't* describe it better?). Her features, which are rather indeterminately babyish and without a trace of make-up, are attractive - even pretty, but they certainly give no indication of her temperament, as I soon found out. She seems to have a particular aversion for the womanly graces, bounds about the place like a 14-year old boy, and has no womanly sense of modesty at all. She is so unspoiled that she saw nothing wrong in inadvertently showing (during her frequent tussles with Charlie) a good deal more of her legs than is commonly considered decent. It may strike you that this display was born of vanity, but if you could see her in action, and talk to her, I know that you would dismiss this thought as unworthy. She's just a big kid who is too inexperienced to know any shame for her body, but is a very attractive and charming miss in spite of her strenuous efforts to play the rowdy. Too, she is very young for her seventeen years, and is just in that stage that despises the very aura of sophistication. Her parents, as I have told you, have their hearts set on sending her through Oxford, but whenever anyone even mentions school, she makes a little moue' of displeasure. She is fed up with schooling and makes no bones about it. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the kid. These are the years she should be riding to hounds (her first and only love, evidently) and having dates and fun generally. As far as I can gather, she has had very little fun and no dates yet, nor, if her parents plans for her materialize, will she have any of either for five years yet. When discussing this with Mrs. Davies, I remarked that it seemed a pity that Judith would be all tied up with schooling when she should be enjoying the best years of her youth. Her answer to that was "Well, Philip, we must sacrifice something if we hope to attain anything, mustn't we?". I had no answer to that one, although I might have pointed out that finding a husband and being a wife should be enough career for any girl. Certainly, Judith isn't the “career girl" type. One needs only to look at her to know that she was meant to be someone's wife. But maybe I'm prejudiced against careers for girls. To my mind, the average one has one function and purpose in life - to be wife and mother, and nothing else but. Guess I'm old fashioned, huh? At any rate, I tacitly agreed that there are two ways to look at it -. While Judith was passing me things across the table, bringing me tea, etc., I talked to Charles and Carl. - But I've forgotten to tell you about Liz. She is smaller and slimmer than Judith, but every inch a lady. The exact antithesis of Judith. I loved listening to them. They talk so beautifully, so grammatically, and so intelligently, that I couldn't help contemplating how different they are from American girls of the same age, and not only in comportment, either, but even more so in their ideas about everything and their current interests. However, lest I give the impression they are stodgy, I must admit that they are full of fun, and even Liz didn't consider it beneath her dignity to tease Charlie, who is deservedly a great favorite with the girls, and to roughhouse with "Tim” as they call the commander. The Commander, for his part, has the time of his life with the two roughnecks, and it's a real treat to see him laughing so hard that he's entirely helpless in their hands. After breakfast, the Doctor went off on his rounds, Mrs. Davies and the girls cleared away the breakfast things, and Carl, Charlie, and I adjourned to the living-room, where they immediately chose books from the well-filled book-cases and I put on the Elgar Concerto played by Yehudi Menuhin. This time I got to play all twelve sides of the set before being interrupted. The women had cleaned up the dishes, made all the beds and finished the house-work by that time. When they came in, we went out into the garden, which is just beginning to sprout a variety of blooms and is very colorful. Later, Mrs. Davies took us all down to show us to the butcher so that he might be moved to letting her have a little more meat than her rations called for. Evidently the butcher was impressed, 'cause there was enough lamb for all at lunch. After shopping, I went into the Doctor's office to visit with Mrs. Payne for a bit. I had a very nice chat with her until we were called in to lunch.

The Doctor comes home for his meals, and presided at table on this occasion. Mrs. Davies, who is a very accomplished conversationalist, and a very well informed person withal, kept the conversational ball rolling all through the meal. She has a very winning way of asking you about the things you would want at to talk about, but might hesitate to discuss spontaneously. Thus, she would ask me about you and the punkin; pop a few questions at Carl about his law practise, and pump Charlie about Australia. Altogether it was a most congenial gathering at table that afternoon. For dessert, there was delicious home-made goose-berrie pie, as only Mrs. Davies can make it, made even tastier by the addition of hot custard. After dinner, we (the girls, Charlie, Carl and myself) adjourned once more to the living-room, where we made ourselves comfortable around the hearth. The girls didn't stay long, though, 'cause they had to help Mrs. Davies clean up the dishes and prepare supper. The Doctor came in soon afterward, and started to read the paper, but dozed off directly. Carl and Charlie, who had resumed their reading, promptly followed suit, and yours very lovingly, not to be outdone, also dozed off. This pleasant interlude lasted 'til 4:30, when we were all called in to tea. There were a variety of home-made cakes to choose from, and lest I feel deprived, I sampled a little of each. After tea, during which Commander Healy returned, we went out to the lawn in the rear of the garden to play at bowls in the warm late-afternoon sunshine. Judith and Liz came up with a mug of beer for each of us and made wry faces while we drank. Carl and I (the Americans) played against Liz and Charlie in the first game. Mrs. Davies, coming out to watch, immediately began rooting for “The Empire,” and exhorted Charlie and Liz to give their best for it. However, since Carl and I were mere initiates to the game, her cheering was superfluous, 'cause we poor Americans were outclassed from the beginning. After they had soundly trounced us, Judith and Commander Healy played Liz and Charlie while Carl and I looked on. It was during the course of this game that I remarked Judith's entire lack of self-consciousness (I don't know what else to call it). She had put on a skirt over a pair of plain black cotton panties, which she displayed in their entirety every time she stooped to retrieve a bowl without any vestige of embarrassment. To tell the truth, she was so naively unconcerned with what she showed, that it was impossible to hold it against her. One might just as well chide a baby for the same sort of thing. I'm sure that she is the most innocent and unaffected and wholesome girl it has ever been my privilege to meet. Believe it or not, honey, I feel cheapened by the mere fact that I could even think of it as an indecent display! Do you begin to understand the girl I'm finding it so hard to describe and explain to you? Well, we played until it was time for supper, enjoying the competition, the lawn and the sun, to say nothing of Judith's teasing of Commander Healy. Supper consisted of Canadian bacon and fried fresh eggs, topped off by delicious pineapple sundaes, made with ice cream that Mrs. Davies made herself. After the table was cleared, we all went in to the living room, where the card table was set up, and the seven of us (Mrs. Davies, Judith, Elizabeth, the Commander, Carl, Charlie and myself) played a game of progressive rummy, which is a swell game in company, and which we all enjoyed. There was a great deal of good-natured badinage throughout, and a great deal of laughter. Mrs. Davies was phenomenally lucky, and just managed to come out ahead of me when the scores were added up. Then, at my suggestion, we all went up to the music-room (the Doctor was home again by this time ), where we spent the rest of the night singing. That is, the others sang while Mrs. Davies played the piano and I accompanied on Judith's violin. We played and sang English folk tunes like John Peel, Annie Laurie, Drink to me Only with Thine Eyes, In the Gloaming, Smiling Thru, various excerpts from Gilbert and Sullivan, and sea shanties like Blow the Man Down, etc. Everyone pitched in, and we had a really merry time of it 'til midnight, when, tired but happy, as the saying goes, we sought our respective beds. Well, Chippie, there isn't much more to tell. I left Meadowcroft at 12 noon with Judith and Liz, who walked me to the bus, but not before I had made arrangements to meet the Davies' in London on the 30th when they are taking Judith back to school. I will meet them then at the Savoy, where they will stay, and we will all go out to the theater in the evening. The latter was my suggestion, and I'm hoping the Doctor doesn't spoil my treat by getting the tickets before I can. They have been so very nice to me that I won't feel exactly right until I have reciprocated in some way. The trip back was more tiresome and monotonous because it was in the nature of an anti-climax. Actually, though, I made better time on the return trip because I went by way of London. There was, in the same compartment on the train, a little girl of three, traveling with her mother and aunt, who was so cute and clever that I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Naturally, she brought thoughts of my own punkin to mind, and I wished very much that that young mother and child could somehow be supplanted by you and Adele. I arrived back in camp at 11 o'clock, and had a hell of a time making my bunk up in the dark. I had asked Dick Stahle to make it up for me if I weren’t back by ten o'clock, but he had to go off somewhere and delegated the job to Klein, who promptly forgot about it. This morning, I resumed my work where I had left off. It was a lovely Spring day, and what with the war news getting better hourly, I was in pretty high spirits all day. To add to it, there were quite a few letters awaiting me. They were your letter of 30 March, your V-mails of 31 March and 1 April, a very nice letter (with a smashing joke included) from Dot, and a belated card from Lil. This afternoon brought your letter of 25 March and your V-mail of 5 April. It is much too late to attempt to answer them now, darling, and since it is now 1:40 A.M. I know you will condone my closing this letter now.

Just got the lamentable news over the phone that President Roosevelt died suddenly tonight. That's fate at its most ironic. Here on the eve of victory, after doing so much to make it possible, our great President has passed away. It is too tragic to contemplate --

Good night, my darling. I haven't told you how muched I missed you and wanted you with me during my excursion to Yorkshire, but you may take it for granted that you were in my thoughts every minute. I adore you, my Evie. My best love to the punkin and all.

Devotedly,
Your Phil