I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
On this, the eve of V-E Day, the Day we have looked to so hungrily all during the past four-and-a-half years, I consider it no more than fitting that I digress from my usual brand of small talk and tell you what I am thinking and feeling on this never-to-be-forgotten evening—
The glorious news that the Germans had surrendered unconditionally to the Allies, and that all hostilities in Europe had ceased, came to us over the Tannoy (public-address system) here on the base at a few minutes after 10 A.M. I was at work in the Orderly Room, but at the first words to come over the Tannoy, I, and the six other fellows in the Orderly Room, with one accord dropped what we were doing and dashed outside to hear the glad tidings. In yesterday's letter, Sweet, I told you we had been expecting just such an announcement, and in all truth, it did come as an anti-climax (the enemy was so obviously shattered weeks ago), but still the great news has been so long awaited, that the actuality had the unreal quality of things that are too good to be true. So it was that instead of a great spontaneous outburst of cheering, excitement and general hilarity that one night expect as a general reaction to such news, there was a tightly repressed exhilaration, the result of half-fearing to believe that the war had actually ended. As the morning wore on, however, and the enormity of victory, complete as any, did their soothing influence to the atmosphere. I wish, darling, that I could do justice to the scene, which was almost by way of being a phenomenon. No words of mine, or anyone’s, could possibly paint the picture in your mind. It occurred to me at the time that if the Almighty set about to give us a day in keeping with, and symbolical of our hardly-won and new-found Peace, He couldn't have made it more perfect!
When I got back to the hurt, there wasn't a soul there. Most of the fellows have gone into town to celebrate. The quiet is almost uncanny. Feeling the need to talk to you, Ev, darling, I got out my stationery, walked to the Day-Room, which I have all to myself and commenced this.
My heart is very full at the moment, Sweet, with a variety of emotions: gratitude (that it's all over); happiness (ditto), and loneliness - which only your own beloved presence will banish.
You must feel very much the same way, my darling, and I am in the peculiar position whereby I can both rejoice and sympathize with you.
My prayer now is that the peace that has come to a great part of the world is the harbinger of the realization of all our hopes. May the men who bought the peace with their blood and their lives somehow be aware that they have won what they fought for. Amen!
It's been three days since I had any mail. Not that that's so unusual. I was wondering if receipt of my “nasty” letter didn't perhaps cause you to suspend writing temporarily as a means of retribution. I shall be greatly surprised - yes, and disappointed in you if such proves to be the case. Deep down, I know you wouldn’t do a thing like that, but as I have said, I was wondering—There is really very little I can tell you tonight, honey, except that the end of the war in Europe (i.e., the official end) is expected momentarily. Most of us are looking for the declaration of V-E day tomorrow, or Tuesday. Strangely enough, I can't get excited about it. I can only feel very good inside that no more of our boys will be killed or wounded on European battlefields. As for the immediate effects V-E day will have on me individually, I’m pretty much in the dark. The plans for the re-deployment of the Sqdn. have, in all probability, been decided some time ago, but we can't be sure which of three possible courses will be ours, and that's why I can't get excited about the finishing of our work here. The three alternatives I believe you know, but I’ll enumerate them for you, anyway. (1) Return to the States, (2) Direct re-deployment to the Pacific Theater. (3) Air Force of occupation. You know, of course, Sweet, that only one of the three will suit me, and you must know that I have my own private opinion of which it will be, and what that opinion is, but we must not lose sight of the fact that they are equal possibilities. At any rate, whichever it will be has probably been decided for us, so we'll have to accept it, whatever it is. But we should know within the next month or two, in any case. In the meantime, I'm keeping very busy. The days fly by like so many minutes—indeed, I’m working against time to get the records I am charged with up-to-date, and I can’t see how I can attain that happy condition for at least a month yet at the rate I am going. I think I explained that it's slow work. I know no way to speed it up, tho’, so I'll just have to keep plugging along as best I can. Incidentally, the Orderly Room staff, up to its ears in work, cannot get passes until it has caught up. It is just four weeks since I've had a pass, or even left the station, and if I can't get a pass ’til I get caught up, well, the next time I’ll leave the base will probably be when we move. I won't even mind that, honey, just so long as we move in the right direction. G’night now, sweetheart. I love you so much!
Last night I spent two hours filling three large pages with reasons why I took exception to most of the things you said in your letter of 21 Apr. During the course of my remarks, though, I said some things that were calculated to cut deep. When I finished I went to the movie to see "And now Tomorrow." On my return to the hut re-read what I had written, and then, liking myself very little for trying to hurt you (even tho' my remarks were justified and you deserved to be hurt a little) - I tore the letter and discarded it. I had done a lot of figuring totalling up the money I received since I've been overseas, the amount I had sent home (which you might be interested to know was 45% of total income), and pointing out to you that financially you have lost not a penny by my absence. Two sentences in your letter inspired hot retorts that I hope I will never be foolish enough to repeat. (1) Your implication that thru the past four years I have either not known or failed in my “responsibilities as husband and father.” (2) Your assertion that I have no appreciation of money, and your general attitude that I am not doing as well by you and myself as I might. Well, Chippie, you can take my word for it I had plenty to say to defend myself on both scores, but however rationally I tried to explain my side of it, and in spite of my best efforts to prevent it, I felt, on re-reading what I had written that there was too much of bitterness and condemnation contained therein to be taken with impunity by you, darling, whom I love so much, and whom I am sworn to keep from hurt. That is why, baby, although my arguments in self-defense were entirely adequate (at least as far as I am concerned), I destroyed the letter. After all, Sweet when you consider the magnitude of the world-shaking events now taking place, it must seem very petty and foolish that we persist in quibbling over something that you only suspect, and I deny. Since I have neither the time nor the inclination to defend myself from your allegations, I consider it both ill-timed and unfair of you to criticize any act of mine. When I come home dear, I’ll give you all the argument you want and more! I just remembered that we once had a spat that resulted in your “going home to mother” (for a few hours). Don’t you consider it as significant, darling, that I can’t recall any inkling of what we had words about? Evie, sweetheart, please try to believe that I’m doing the best I know how in all “departments.” If I fail to come up to your expectations or requirements in any instance, please try to remember that I am, after all, merely human, and therefore subject to mistakes and failings. Good night, my lovely. Love to Adele.
I didn’t write again last night. The probability is—I could probably think of some plausible reason for not writing - one that would keep you from hating me a little less - but the plain, unvarnished, shameful truth is - I got into a card game early in the evening (the first time in months and months) (cross my heart) and my luck was very gratifyingly running with me, so I played ’til one in the morning - so there! Seriously, though, honey, and all excuses aside (they somehow never compensate for a missing letter anyhow) it seems that I only get to write every other day (on the average) in spite of my best intentions. Please try to be big about it and understand, will you, Chippie? Lord knows, this matter of letter-writing is my one cause for anxiety these days—it’s the countless ones that I should, but don’t write that worry me.—But I’ve used up too much of the space already, selfishly, trying to justify myself. Let’s talk about something else, shall we, baby? Like your V-mail of 23 April that arrived today, for instance. Was surprised to learn the the Weinsteins did call after all, ’cause Marty showed me the letter saying they would. Guess something prevented. I'll get Marty's address next time I see him and forward it! Didn’t see “Between Two Women” yet, but I expect I'll catch up with it soon. Glad you enjoyed it, Sweet. I’ve remarked your increasing friendship with Sylvia, and I’m glad for that, too. You two certainly have a lot in common. Give her my best next time you see her, and tell her I’m looking forward to meeting her someday (I hope soon). The Browns must think I’m an awful stinker that I don't write to any of them—not even Milt, who is most prolific in his correspondence compared to me. Tell them I think of them often with the utmost affection, and that I’m looking forward to playing pinochle with Uncle Nish, the Limeys and Harry once again. The rest of your letter tells of your latest visit to Dr. Gayl with the punkin. You’ve certainly put up with a lot, Sweet, and I can’t very well blame you for wanting to cut the shots short. You’ve been very patient in this instance—and altogether an angel. Guess that’s why I love you so—angel.
Always,
Your Phil
P.S. A kiss for Adele. My love to all.
May 2, 1945
Dearly Beloved,
Much as I wanted to, I had not the time to get even a v-mail off to you yesterday. I had a very full day at work, and before I got Adele to bed, ironed my clothes and helped my dad fill in an application to obtain a job as an insurance salesman, it was 12:30 and I was half dead. So, I did the only logical thing - I went straight to bed.
The month of May was ushered in by strong winds, driving rain and bitter cold. Today, however, was much nicer, though it is still cold. Monday evening, after I posted your v-mail, Adele woke, vomit for all she was worth and went back to sleep. She slept peacefully the rest of the night and there is no need to tell you how grateful I was for that. There was no mail for me yesterday, but today I received your letter of April 24 and v-mails of April 25 and 26, along with my check. Your letters contained very little to comment about, so I'll just say how sweet they were and give you big hug and kiss for writing so often.
Jack N.'s aunt, Sonya, was in Philadelphia yesterday and called Mom. Jack's letter had given us all the impression that no one knew of his marriage, but we were wrong. They all know and heartily disapprove, although they say it's his life to do with as he sees fit. Sonya said that her parents disapproved strongly, but Marjorie gave them no choice, saying that she would marry Jack regardless of whether or not they accepted him, and they did. Sonya said Marge is tall (taller than Jack), very thin, blondish and very “shicksa" looking, but nevertheless very intelligent. Marge makes $60 per week and hasn't a cent to her name. Jack bought her a lovely wedding band for $80 and they had to honeymoon at Sammy & Ann's because they had no money for a honeymoon. In fact, Sonya said, Sammy had to make a loan of $200 for them so that they could get back to their various Jobs. Sonya also said that Marge's dad is a $7000 a year man, pretty well to do, but she doubted if he would do anything for them. That, dear, is the picture painted by Sonya. Jack and Marge were married on April 13, the same date that Harry and Goldie chose to call their anniversary.
In the meantime we learned that Jennie Zaslow is going to marry her brother-in-law's brother. Dave’s brother is being discharged from the Army and he and Jennie will be married June 10. Jen doesn't want a large wedding and they will have a small affair. So it is that two sisters marry two brothers.
By the way, that coat Mom is wearing in the snapshot you like so well is the one she bought from Mrs. Frommer. We had larger duplicates made and Rae also appeared, so you got gyped. No, I'm not going to Lorstan to have my picture made. When Glo comes this weekend we're going to have family pictures made in the house by the fellow who took that picture of Adele writing on her blackboard. I have yet to find the opportunity to get to Lorstan to have Adele's pictures made. Phil, I'd like to know if you are doing the same work at headquarters and whether the change will effect your status in any way.
First Mussolini and now Hitler, though I'm inclined to doubt the latter. The end of the war in Europe is beginning to drag and I'll be mighty happy when the official news comes through. Do you think, sweet, that you have a chance to get a furlough now (is that what you mean by some of your hints?) No more space, so will close now, baby, with oceans of love.
Like you, I am missing a good deal of April's correspondence. As a consequence, I am a little confused about the proper sequence of things in general. Like today,—I received your V-mail of 28 Apr, which tells me that you aren’t going to have “my” picture colored by Lorstan. I presume you finally had your photo made, but this is the first I heard about it, and I don't know the details. Are you talking about the punkin’s pictures? On second thought, I guess you are. Well, honey, I think it's a good idea to get three black-and-whites rather than one colored picture—especially since you say the 8x10 will be in color.
Was interested in that offer you got to work in that insurance office at $35 per—mainly because it shows how difficult it must be for employers to get help these days!!? You didn't seem to think it advisable to take the job, so I take it for granted that you had some pretty good reasons for turning it down. Dot’s job at the bakery (I think it’s the place we occupied from 1920-21) sounds like a pretty good deal, too. Tell her that I received her midget Bulletin today, and can’t blame her for wondering why it’s so long between letters, but she must understand that I would be only too glad to write to her if I could. She's been a dear to be so patient with me, and I sincerely regret that I have barely enough time each evening to knock out a skimpy V-mail to you, let alone keep up with my other correspondence.—Which reminds me to note that I couldn't write last night, and when I say I “couldn't” I mean just that. It was a hard day, there was no letter, my spirits were low (for no good reason), and I was plain knocked out.
Today was a replica of yesterday, and I feel relieved that I have “done my duty” for today. The sack is beckoning. I never thought a hard single cot (with no blandishments—if’n you know what I mean) could be so tempting. I adore you, Ev.
Love to all from
Your Phil
April 30, 1945
My dearest:
Today I received your letter of April 4th (the nasty one) but strangely enough it didn't make me mad - not one little bit. I do have to admit that all the things you said were right. However, I do wish you would have explained in fuller detail so that I could have understood clearly right off the bat. It made me very, very angry to think you could cut the allotment (though I realize your intentions now and cannot be angry because of it) but don't you think it would have been better if you had explained just a little bit then instead of just upping with "There won't be any more bonds. I stopped them because I needed the extra money for gifts." Oh what's the use of talking on and on about it. I feel certain that we'll see eye to eye on finances once we're united, so let's wait for the day and not discuss it any further.
Got back from Dr. Gayl's a short while ago and am beginning to feel very weary again. This was her last needle (I can't thank God enough for It) and I'm simply waiting for the "after effects". Adele screamed so much this evening every time Dr. Gayl came near her that I thought she'd take a fit. All's well that ends well and tomorrow can't come too quickly for me. As I told you I must go back in a month for the Dick test, but as long as the preliminaries are over I'm as happy as can be. They were really getting me down. Adele is still 37-1/2" tall and weights 34 lbs. I weighed 118 this evening. Last night I had a malted and an ice-cream cone and I ate an enormous dinner before going to the doctor's, so that may account for the extra weight.
I received a letter from Syd, one from Gloria, who will visit us this weekend and a card from Emma and Phil who are "gloriously happy". I wonder what it's like to be "gloriously happy"?
In just a month, our little girl will be 2-1/2 years old. Every time I talk about it it seems more Incredible. She's so much the little girl we wanted in every way. I wish you could have heard the conversation she had with the driver of the C bus this evening. In the midst of the conversation she said she would rather ride on the J bus. The C bus driver wanted to now what the J bus had that the C bus didn't have. Adele favored the J bus and when he said, "Is that so?" she said, "Sure, that's right!” Adele and Diana are inseparable and are extremely fond of each other. If Adele cries, Diana cries too. Adele likes to pat Diana's head and kiss her hand. And Diana just eats it up! By the way, I have still not had the opportunity to go to Lorstan. Gosh, I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever get down there. Today there was a holdup on the el and I had to get a special pass to take the trolley. I got to work late and was busy all day long. In fact, since tomorrow is the first, I'll be busy for a few days until I get caught up. I worked on statements most of the day and we'll probably get them off tomorrow. Good night, baby, I hate to go now, but I must. I love you so much, honey!
No mail from you today, and I'm starting this without the vaguest idea of what comes after the first sentence. It was a typically routine day even unto the rain. Still working at headquarters, and making good progress.
Received a letter from Judy Davies in which she asks me to meet her and her parents in London on the 30th. She wants me to get tickets to a show for all of us, and she would settle with me. Frankly, Chippie, I've been looking forward to this date ever since my last pass, three weeks ago when we arranged it, and I had every intention of making it my treat. But, sad to state, I can't leave for a coupla weeks yet due to the preponderance of work that was the consequence of the “change-over.” So—I have no choice but to call them and tell them that I can’t make it. I haven't been so disappointed about anything in a long time, honey, and I really hate to renege on the deal, but there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it, so I'll just have to make my excuses and swallow my disappointment. Incidentally, darling, I believe you know by now that the V-weapon threats to London have ceased. No buzz-bombs or rockets have fallen since the British over-ran the launching sites a month ago. I'm looking forward to my next leave, which I expect to spend in London, but I don't think it will be for two or three weeks yet.
We're looking for the war in Europe to end at any moment now, Sweet, and the likelihood is that it will all be over by the time this reaches you.
Just enough white space left to to forward my best love to you and the punkin and all. I love you, my Evie.
Ever, Your Phil
April 28, 1945
My dearest,
This is my first letter since Wednesday evening. I started to write on both the following nights and each time I felt too tired to continue. So it is that I have accumulated enough news for a "longie."
Does the enclosed letter from Jackie do anything to you? I was in a funny mood all day because of it. I hardly know what to say. I do feel that you should make every effort to write to him immediately, regardless of what you may have to give up to do so.
Today, for the first time in three or four days I received some mail from you - those bearing your new address. There were four v-mails in all of April 17, 18, 21 and 22. I had a funny premonition about your change of address, and Jackie's marriage. As soon as I tore your letter open I looked first at the address and immediately noted the change. I had written to Jackie, Seymour, Harry W., Milt and Glo a few nights ago and in my letter to Jackie I told him I was worried and was he married.
I'm wondering now just what the change means. What's this "good news" you might have later? Why in heaven's name do you get me all “hep”?? My, mind isn’t at all peaceful when I don't know what it's all about and how it may affect us. Is the change for the better? Will you remain in England? Do you stand a chance of getting a promotion?
Last night, at long last, I made a break in connection with 4906. Goldie had been planning to go to Poughkeepsie for a few months with Diana and Mom said she wanted to go away for the whole summer - all of which meant that I would be left practically alone with a big house. So I had a quiet frank talk with the three of them and told H & G to look for an apartment. After a lengthy explanation we all agreed that no one was satisfied, that we were all merely awaiting the opportune moment and that this was just as good as any. Naturally each one wanted to know your opinion. I told them that we had discussed such a possibility even before you had gone overseas (in fact I spoke of giving up the place immediately after my return from Columbus) and that you were agreed, especially if I felt it too much to upkeep. I reassured Mom that once you returned she was more than welcome to join us and if she wanted any further reassurance she was free to write to you. Phil, it would be too difficult for me to put down on paper the bulk of our conversation, but if Mom does write to you and you reply just don't mention anything about any previous discussions - reassure her that she is welcome to come with us and that you are not in a position to discuss the matter further. There was no dissension - and each one talked sensibly. At the moment I am not in a position to tell you exactly what will transpire. A lot depends on whether or not they are able to get an apartment. Please, honey, whatever you do, do not feel badly about it. I'm sure the war will be over in a matter of hours or perhaps days (there were rumors that Germany surrendered this evening) and it may be that you will be home before the time for action arrives. It's something that must happen sooner or later and I feel the sooner the better. We're going to start out all over again. We had a bad start and must have a good finish.
Your letters were all very sweet, dearest, and it did me a world of good to read them. You made me feel so good that all I wanted to do was gather you into my arms and love you to bits,
Phil, at this point, I find myself without the patience to continue on this. I'll continue tomorrow. Perhaps you may not be able to understand my negligence but I cannot, for the life of me, get myself to sit down and actually write in detail some of the things I should like to tell you about Adele, etc. Please bear with me. I'm very weary this evening. Adele was very trying most of the day. She and I had dinner at Betty's this evening. Mom went to see "National Velvet". I shall make it a point to see that picture as I've heard everyone rave about it. Good night for now, darling, I love you so very much -
April 29, 1945
This April 29th was a far better day than an April 29th just four years ago! When I think of how I felt - Adele slept until 8:30 this morning, giving me ample time to get a good night's rest. I awoke at 7:30 and lay abed that full hour. Gosh, but it felt good! After breakfast, I cleaned our room thoroughly and dressed very hurriedly. Adele and I walked over to 11th St. to buy a belated birthday gift for Stuart. I bought him, a pair of white gabardine shorts with straps (like a sunsuit), and a blue jersey. While at the store I "splurged," but good! I bought Adele a smartly tailored dusty blue spring coat, a navy blue derby and a navy blue handbag. My bill totaled $20 before I left. However, baby, if you could only see Adele in her newest outfit - I have to pinch myself every time I look at her. She's a full fledged grownup without a trace of babiness. After the "splurge" we came back, had lunch and Adele rested in our bed for a half hour. Adele was dressed to the hilt today and was really something to see. Mom, Adele and I (I was kinda dressed up myself in my black and coral dress) took the J Bus and 59 trolley and arrived at Ethel's at 4. Mickey told me I looked like a regular glamor gal today though I thought I looked too tired to look glamorous. Paul made such a fuss about Adele and I wish you could see how they kiss - right on the mouth! Paul only wanted to kiss her but she didn't want to. Several times she relented after we coaxed her a bit. Paul got to be a regular lover. As soon as we arrived Adele wanted to see the canary. (The canary died several months ago). Paul saved the moment by taking her up to his bedroom to show her his goldfish. Rae gave Adele a peach and blue rag doll (poor Adele - she hasn't got one doll - much) and I'm beginning to run out of names. We decided to call this one Phyllis. Betty Jane continues to be fondest of Betty Jane. She almost becomes rapturous when she is able to play with the blond haired doll. Adele says, "Mommy, I won't throw her down. Daddy, will come home and take her away from me". Another thing. Adele wants to get into every car she sees on the street. She loves cars, buses, trolleys, etc, and to keep her out I tell her that the cars don't belong to her and that she'll have to wait till daddy comes home and buys one. Whenever she comes upon a car now, she says, "That's not mine. Have to wait till daddy comes home and buys one."
Ethel and Al went out this evening and had several other people with them. Since they were leaving about the time we were and had only room for one, Mom went with them and Adele and I took the trolley and bus. Adele had a bath, her hair washed and went to bed straightaway after getting home. Adele had dinner at Ethel's, but we ate home. I thought I go to the movies with Fay this evening, but it would have meant going to bed late and I must get sufficient rest for the Monday night ordeal, Tuesday morning can't come too quickly for me. This will be her last needle. A month from now I'll have to go back for the Dick test, which proves whether or not she is immune.
In a few days you'll have completed four years of service (if that year counts) and I've heard they may release men with four years or more of service. Do you become eligible for any further increase in pay by virtue of the four years? I remember your telling me that after three years you were entitled to 5% of your base pay.
Good night, darling, and I'm praying, almost desperately, that I'll see you soon. On the bus coming back from Ethel's I met a girl I hadn't seen for 8 years and she introduced me to her husband, a soldier, who had just come back to this country after two years of service in Iceland and England. He must go back to England next week. That's the first I'd heard that fellows from England are getting furloughs. Harry Weinman is definitely coming back to the states. He says in his letters that he'll see us all soon, but he can't say definitely when. But I must sign off now if I'm to get any rest at all. I do hope you'll be able to replace the bracelet, for I do feel terribly about it. I adore you, Phil dearest, and shall end this with a hug, and kiss from
Today was another day like yesterday and the day before except for two things: 1) It rained. (2) No mail. Otherwise, the routine was exactly the same. When I came back to barracks I was pretty weary, and lay down to grab a cat-nap before riding down to the mess-hall for supper with Klein. Ordinarily, I skip this meal, but when there is (are?) hot dogs and sauer-kraut and cherry pie with vanilla sauce, well, I just make it a point not to miss supper - that's all. After eating and getting back to the hut I was still tired, so, since you weren't here to prevent me, my sweet, I indulged myself to the extent of another hours nap (n’yah!). Then I gathered up my paraphernalia and headed for the ablution for a much-needed shave and wash, whence I have just returned to write this. Oh yes, forgot to tell you I got a hair cut yesterday. What's so remarkable about that? Well, nothing, except, perhaps, that the barber was a woman - and an attractive blonde at that! If nothing else, it was a novel experience. - Which all brings me pretty well up-to-date, honey - and also leaves a pretty big stretch of white space to fill. What shall I tell you now, baby? I know you've been waiting for me to enlarge on a few hints I let drop recently, but I’m sure you realize that the only reason I haven't is that I can’t. However let your fondest hopes be your guide, darling.
In closing, let me say once again that I have never, for as much as a moment, stopped missing you. My love for you, my Chippie, has withstood the tests of time and absence from your adored presence, and is, I am proud to say, stronger and tenderer, and more securely enshrined than ever. In a word, my sweet, I love you. Kiss Adele for
