Monday, October 31, 2022

Post #646 - May 11, 1945 Never Have I Seen the Men More Shocked or Stricken About Anything Since I've Been in the Army

 





11 May 1945

Dearest Darling,

Received your typed letter of 28 April this afternoon—the one you started on the 28th that is, and completed on the 29th. It was the first one I received addressed to the new squadron, and is chock full of questions. Chippie—why do you insist on asking me things that it's almost impossible for me to give a straight answer to? Like "Is the change for the better"? - or "Will you remain in England"? - or "Do you stand a chance of getting a promotion"? The answer to all three is the same—I really don't know. I can only draw conclusions from what I read in the papers, hear on the radio, and from what is happening here. As to the latter, I can't be too specific about that, either, for two reasons: (1) Censorship, (2) You might misinterpret the meaning of what is happening, as I may have done already. Two weeks ago I was almost convinced that we were coming home—very soon—possibly in June. Since then, I have heard and read, and seen so many conflicting things that I don't know what to believe. When I told you I might have “good news for you soon" I was pretty sure that we were getting ready to go to the States. Since then, enough has transpired to make me doubt it. Yesterday, as you know, the point values for demobilization were announced. Never have I seen the men more shocked or stricken about anything since I've been in the Army. Some of the men in the service units here on the field have as much as 2-1/2 to 3 years' service overseas (with never a furlough home). Naturally, they had every right to hope they stood a good chance of going home. Imagine how they felt, then, when the lowest number of points considered eligible for discharge was announced as 85! True—the fathers in that category would qualify (and how many could there be?), but what of the poor single guy, who, say, had a year’s domestic service and three year’s overseas service to his credit? He would have only 84 points, which almost automatically puts him in the position of having to sweat it out at least another year, which is how long we have been told it will take to demobilize the 1,300,000 men they figure have 85 points or over now!" What chance, then, have my own buddies - the fellows I came overseas with? They have only served a measly 21 months overseas, with an average of about a year's domestic service, a total of 53 points for the single men and non-fathers, and 65 points for the fathers. Yet, no one could blame them for hoping that they might stand a chance, too. Surely, no one will ever convince these men that they haven't been in the service and overseas plenty long enough! However, there is another factor that is far and away the greatest source of "bitching.” The ground, as well as the combat personnel of the Fighter Sqdns. here on the base, have been authorized no less than four battle participation stars at 5 points per star, for a total of 20 points. The service units, who have worked side-by-side with the ground crews all this time, and whose men actually did the heavy maintenance and repair on the planes, get nothing! This sort of discrimination has, naturally made the men of the service units very bitter against the point system which, in itself is not at fault. Some of the situations which have arisen out of this thoughtless, hit-or-miss fashion of awarding the bronze service stars are so ridiculous that they would be funny if it weren't all so deadly serious. For instance, a clerk in headquarters, or a K.P. pusher, or a latrine orderly, who is lucky enough to be assigned to one of the 3 Fighter Sqdns, and has 65 points for service, by dint of the battle participation awards becomes eligible for discharge. The counterpart of these men assigned to the service units, and, what is more ironic, the airplane mechanics and crew chiefs who were responsible for keeping the planes in the air, but had the bad luck to be assigned to a service unit—get not a point. I've heard of some unfair and discriminatory practices in civilian life, but this one takes the cake! The injustice of it all is all the more deplorable because one doesn't expect that sort of thing from the Army. But wait—as if all this weren’t enough, the "Stars and Stripes", the servicemen’s own paper came out with a strip that was so worded that the men of the service units becomes eligible for any battle participation awards which were authorized the Group to which they were attached. Of course, the removal of this bone of dissension was hailed by all of us as being the only logical thing to do. Then, a few days later, a letter from Hq. 8th Air Force, said that the original decision (to award the stars to the AC personnel, but not to the service units) would stand! All this happened just before the War Department announced that each star had a value of 5 points. When the shocked G.I.'s of the service units had made the simple computation 4x5=20—20 points—20 months of domestic service -—10 mos. overseas service—the difference (for a great majority) between getting out of the Army soon and sweating out the Japanese campaign—well, I think you can gather what they felt! You must know how I (with my 71 points) felt! I was, and am, so damned mad about it all that I feel I'll bust if I don't let off some steam! I can well imagine, Sweet, how you must have been let down when you totalled my points and found them 14 short of the required minimum. All day today, I've been trying to find out if my year in the Enlisted Reserve will be counted towards demobilization. The papers specify “total service” but not “total active service,” so there’s just a bare chance that my total with be 83 points, although I’d hesitate to give myself hopes on that score. I’d give a lot, Chippie, to be able to give you some encouragement as to my early return home (at least temporarily) but of recent days, I’ve been so thoroughly disillusioned that, like the other fellows, I’m only ready to believe t
he worse. My innate optimism has all but disappeared, but there is still enough left, darling, to caution you against giving up hope. At the very worst, we can still hope for an early end of the war in the Pacific. With the preponderance of military might that the Allies are concentrating against the japs, it should not take long to crush them—possibly a year.—But enough of this. There are a few other things I want to talk about before I sign off: You want to know more about my job, altho’ I thought I had covered it pretty well in my recent letters. The work of processing at the Station Headquarters, I thought you understood, was of a temporary nature—until we completed checking the records of all the men. Then I returned to work in the Squadron Orderly Room, remaking and checking the organization's "Forms 20" (EM's Qualification Cards). That lasted about a week. Today I returned to Headquarters as part of the team processing the Officers' records. We should finish that day after tomorrow, after which I will resume my work on the "Forms 20." That's about all from this side of the fence, honey—except, I might mention that I ordered a Fathers Day gift thru the PX for Dad, which, however, probably won't reach him ’til about mid-July. Hope he likes it. 

The news about Jack N. didn’t surprise me at all.—I've seen it coming on. In any case, Sweet, I see no reason for you to be distressed by it. It is purely his business, and I for one, am wishing him nothing but the best. Don’t jump to conclusions, baby—who knows that they won’t be gloriously happy despite the handicaps? I expect to write to him tomorrow in your care. Not so much because I want you to see what I have written (although you might do well to take your cue from me) as because the guy has moved around so much, that I don't rightly know his present address. 

There is a possibility (I’ve just confirmed it) that henceforth we will be working a six-day week instead of seven, as formerly. This means I’ll have Sundays off. I'll give you one guess as to how I’ll utilize that time. Right! Brother Jack, Gloria, Dottie, Mom, and any other correspondents will be hearing from me once again. You may inform them, darling—

Was very glad to learn that Harry W. has good hopes of coming home soon. I'll try to get a letter off to him soon, too.

Your information about my being able to get a furlough home is, to put it bluntly, all wet. If the Group is fortunate enough to be sent home in toto before r
e-deployment I'll get to see you for about a month or forty-five days otherwise, not a chance!

You persist in feeling badly about the bracelet, altho’ it's far from worth it. I'm sorry now that I even sent it. Certainly I didn’t intend it as a source of potential aggravation for you! But if it's any comfort to you, darling, you might be interested to learn that it is repairable, Take it around to the neighborhood jeweler (maybe Eddie could do it for you) and tell him that “Acetone" can be used to repair the break so you'd never notice it. Once repaired, you can fit it to your wrist by making it supple by immersion in hot water. "

I'm almost as relieved as you are, Sweet, that the punkin has completed her shots. I hope the Dick Test proves her immune, so that all your trouble will not have been in vain.

It's very late, now, darling, and I must sign off now. Before I do, tho’, I want to ask you to continue to be of good heart—whatever the future holds for us, and to take a never ending satisfaction from the eternal love and devotion of

Your Phil


Sunday, October 30, 2022

Post #645 - May 9, 1945 We Can Only Hope for a Speedy Trip Home, But We Can't Count On It

 





9 May 1945 

Darling Evie,

Last night, after working in the morning, and loafing in the afternoon, I went to the first show to see "Christmas Holiday" with Deanna Durbin and Gene Kelly. There I ran into Marty Weinstein. The picture was different, if nothing else, and thought-provoking, too. Going back, Marty and I got to discussing it, and one thing led to another, and before we realized it, we had run the gamut of human psychology and the night was gone and I didn't get to write to you, Today because we are celebrating the end of the war by taking off from work, I only worked a half day (in the morning). I figured that since there is a backlog of work to last another month or so, a coupla hours wouldn't make much difference. Accordingly, after lunch, I got into a game of volleyball and played for about two hours. This was the first exercise I have had for almost two years, and I felt much better for it. Having worked up a good sweat (it being a cloudy, sultry day) I made for the showers and had a most refreshing bath. While I was bathing, it occurred to me that tonight is Wednesday night, the night of the regular weekly dance at the Aero Club. Since I had to dress anyway, I decided I might as well put on my "class A's" and take in the dance. This I did, but when I finished dressing it was only 5 P.M., so I finished reading Thorne Smith's “Passionate Witch", which I had been reading in fits and starts. It was then only 6 P. M., and still two hours ’til the dance commenced, so I borrowed some stationery from Dave Chumley and went to the Day Room to write this, which brings me right up to the minute—

Your V-mail of 30 April arrived yesterday afternoon, and I was no less than delighted with its contents. I have nothing but praise for your fair-mindedness, Sweet, in conceding that what I said in my “nasty” letter was true, and therefore didn’t make you angry. I'm afraid I did you an injustice in implying that you were being narrow-minded about the controversial issue we had under discussion. I was highly gratified, too, Chippie, that you finally got impatient with our quibbling and called a halt (much as I did in my last letter). 

The bit about Adele's conversation with the driver of the "C” bus amused me. She must be a cute little tyke! I, too, am glad that the ordeal of the Scarlet Fever injections is over. It wasn't pleasant for me to read of the punkin's ailing and your consequent difficulty with her.

Forgot to tell you, baby, that on the 5th May, I sent off $55.00 to you to replace the amount you withdrew from the bank to pay the premium on Adele's insurance. I must admit that I was torn between two alternatives about what to do with the money. First I thought I would put it into Soldiers' Deposits and add something each month, so that when I come home, I could nonchalantly throw a coupla hundred bucks at you and say something smart like: "Here, go by yourself a pair of stockings"—or something equally clever. Then it occurred to me that the depletion of our bank account for the purpose of paying the insurance premium must have, to put it mildly, depressed you. I thought that if I sent you the money to make up the deficit, you would undoubtedly, think that I am a pretty nice guy after all, and that perhaps all the mean things you have been saying to me about the way I spend my money weren’t justified after all. Thus, it became a choice between surprising you very much—later, or surprising you a little bit now. Being an impatient sort of guy at heart, and I must also admit being possessed of a perfectly human desire to feel that I am, after all, of some use to my daughter (to say nothing of the satisfaction I derive from the fact that you might feel a little put out at the accusations you made against me), I decided on the latter course. I am enclosing the receipt merely to get rid of it - I have a locker full of bits and pieces of paper now.

I've been wondering, darling, how you took the news of the end of the war and what it made you feel. I can foresee that now that Germany has collapsed, you will be more impatient than ever for my home-coming. Please try to curb this tendency, honey, for your own peace of mind. I, and all my buddies, are still completely in the dark as to what is in store for us. We can only hope for a speedy trip home, but we can't count on it, and neither should you. On the other hand, you should not be discouraged, either, 'cause I have a hunch that everything will turn out just as we would want it to. All the same, the wise thing to do would be to reckon equally with all possibilities. Naturally, I'm most anxious to learn the points system set-up for partial demobilization. It's just possible that I'll squeeze into the upper bracket. Whatever happens, Evie, darling, be of good heart. We still have much to be thankful for. I love you more than ever—I really do. My best love to our daughter. Love to all from

Your adoring Phil

Saturday, October 29, 2022

Post #644 - May 7, 1945 A Date to Remember

 




7 May 1945
(A date to remember)

Dearest One,

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!

Ever, Your adoring Phil

Friday, October 28, 2022

Post #643 - May 6, 1945 Most of Us are Looking for the Declaration of V-E Day Tomorrow, or Tuesday

 


6 May 1945

My Darling,

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!

Your Phil

P.S. A kiss for Adele. Love to all.

Thursday, October 27, 2022

Post #642 - May 5, 1945 Please Try to Believe that I’m Doing the Best I Know How in All “Departments”

 


5 May 1945 

Dearest Darling,

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.

Your Phil

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Post #641 - May 1, 2, 1945 I’m Looking Forward to Playing Pinochle with Uncle Nish, the Limeys and Harry Once Again and The End of the War in Europe is Beginning to Drag and I'll Be Mighty Happy When the Official News Comes Through

 



1 May 1945

My own Darling,

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.

Your Eve

Tuesday, October 25, 2022

Post #640 - April 29, 30, 1945 It Shows How Difficult It Must Be for Employers to Get Help These Days!!? and In Just a Month, Our Little Girl will be 2-1/2 Years Old

 

   


29 April 1945

Darling Chippie,

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!

Your Eve