Post #653 - May 19, 1945 I've Warned Everyone That If You Do Come Home That I Want You All to Myself the First Night and Luckily, the Bomb Had Malfunctioned

 

May 19, 1945

Dearest One,

It is now 11:15 P.M. and you, in all probability, are turning over over on your other side, as the expression goes. I, on the other hand, am very weary and about ready to "hit the sack", if'n you don't mind my quoting you. I worked for three employers today - Mr. Bellet, Miss Hahn and Mr. First. I worked for Mr. B. from 8:30 till one, at which time I had lunch with Anne at H. & H. I arrived at Miss Hahn's at 2:15 (I hadn't seen her for several months and she called late last night, asking me if I could possibly come in today as her regular helper was ill) and stayed until 6. Once arrived home I had dinner, read your letter of May 9th, with receipt for $55 enclosed, and put Adele to bed. When I finished washing and cleaning Adele'a shoes I went into Mr. First's and typed a Will and some bills, for which he paid me $3.

There is no need to tell you how happy I was that "a" letter had finally come through! Naturally, I'm looking forward to a letter giving more definite information about your status as a serviceman in the weeks to come, but I'll just have to be patient. Your letter was very sweet, honey, and if’n you don't mind, I think it would be a good idea to save what you can at the present time in the soldier's deposits so that you can come home with some spare cash. We're going to need a lot of it then and I think you'd feel a lot better if you had some to start off with. If you prefer to send what you can to me you may do so, but I would prefer to see what you could save in the time left before you do come home. Whatever the case, you may rest assured that the final decision is in your hands. I do feel that it is no longer sensible for us to invest what little we may be able to save In bonds, so I shall put any reserve I may have in the bank. Satisfied?

I have some good news - Harry Weinman is home! Syd Brown wrote to the folks not to write to him any more, as he is on his way home. Mom went over to see Harry this afternoon and Goldle and Harry went this evening. Thls is the first time I have ever been left with the two kids. Goldle didn't want to go but I insisted. Harry is coming over tomorrow, so I'll see him then. I may be selfish in this respect, but I've warned everyone that if you do come home that I want you all to myself the first night. When I get through with you, they can have what's left. I'm hoping you'll agree with me.

Harry, Goldie and Mom are most anxious to know your reactions to my decision to give up the house. It wasn't really my idea, but since I did speak up everyone has climbed off his high horse and decided it might be a good idea to stick together until such time as apartments and the like are obtainable. I don't get as many complaints as in the past and if we do stick together there will be but one change - the rent goes up because I'm tired of sponging. Don't for one minute, get the idea that we don't get along. We do get along nicely, considering the relationship, but it is difficult for all of us. All I know is that I'm going to be a happy girl when you come home and we get settled for once and for all. I Love You so much, baby.

Your Eve

19 May 1945

Darling Eve,

We are enjoying lovely May weather here. It was one of those Saturday afternoons that are meant for picnicking, or a long drive in the country, or a day at the races. Speaking of races, I am reminded to tell you that Klein and I went to the movies, whence we just returned to see "National Velvet” the picture you said was regarded so highly there at home. It was a beautiful, heart-warming picture with the same quality of good feeling that distinguished “My Friend Flicka". In addition, there were the exciting racing sequences (I must try to get to see the Grand National), and the superb acting of the beautiful little English girl, her mother, and the entire cast. It's unlike me to forget to note the names of the principals, but I only think the girl's name is Angela Lansbury (and a sweeter kid I never saw), while the name of the actress who so competently played the part of her mother escaped me entirely. Donald Crisp and Mickey Rooney, of course, it's impossible to miss.

Otherwise, it was a rather ordinary sort of day. Oh yes, almost forgot to mention that I received three of your V-mails today and one yesterday. They were those of 3, 5, 7, 9-10 May. The last mentioned rubbed me the wrong way, Chippie. Not because of anything you said, or failed to say, but because you split it up to cover two days. I've never reproached you for interrupting a long “regular" letter to continue on it next day, but I wish you wouldn't, if you don't mind, do so with anything as skimpy as a V-mail. Let's both be a little more generous in future in the amount we write, since we're not writing daily as we used to do shall we, honey?

Your letters call for no comment, since they are crammed full of your daily comings and goings, some news of our neighbors and friends and the family, Gloria's most recent visit (I must write to her soon), your most recent acquisitions in clothes and lingerie (I sure would love to see those “pernts”, you tease, and I guess you know I wouldn't be content with just seeing them), and your erroneous computation of my “pernts" - I mean the Adjusted Service Rating kind. You should have known that inactive service would not be counted, but I guess you indulged in a little wishful thinking, huh?

Forgot to tell you that I managed to get off a V-mail to Dot, but I'm still waiting the opportunity to write some real letters to everyone l have been neglecting. Tomorrow (Sunday) would ordinarily be a day off and I could get a lot of writing done, but Lt. King has told me that I’m to work in the afternoon, so I'll probably have only time enough to finish this, which I am interrupting because it is time for lights out and our date. G’night, honey,—you know I love you very much—

20 May 1945 

Hello again, baby~

Guess I shouldn't have mentioned the nice weather we've been having, cause it clouded up and rained like hell this afternoon. I took advantage of my morning off by doing what most G.I.'s have been dreaming of doing for a long time now, namely staying abed as long as one pleased. Well, I pleased to sleep ’til 11 A.M., when I got up, dressed, worked and went to lunch with Klein. We have chicken on Sundays, which I don't eat, but which Klein dearly loves, so he always makes it a point to accompany me to lunch on that day, when he treats himself to two portions—mine and his.

This afternoon I cleaned up some work in the Orderly Room while it rained pitch-forks outside. After work, I looked up Karl Schwoerer, who had agreed to loan me his “620” camera.

Tomorrow afternoon, Chippie, I am leaving the station for the first time in seven weeks. I'm going on a three-day pass to London, where I have long wanted to go, but didn't because of that promise I made to you when the buzz-bombs were falling. It'll be good to get to the Turkish Baths, Albert Hall, etc. once again, and I'm looking forward to it with the keenest anticipation.—Which reminds me that we are now free to reveal in our letters home, just about everything that has happened to us, or that we have seen since we left the States.—So if there is anything you would like to know about, honey, or anything that has been puzzling you—just fire away, and I’ll tell you. I know you have been wondering of the meaning of the asterisks I put into my letters from time to time—I can now reveal that they meant the sirens had sounded to warn, in the early days, of approaching enemy aircraft, and latterly, of approaching buzz bombs. Of the former, I haven't seen any, because they always came over at night—but they certainly caused us a lot of inconvenience during the winter of 1943 and spring of ’44. Being the Ordnance Company, we had to man the AA defenses of the station whenever there was an alert. When the sirens sounded, we piled out of our sacks, scrambled into our clothes in a chilly barracks, and stumbled around in the dark (if it happened to be a moonless night) to the vehicle, which drove us down to the various gun sites around the field. Then we usually shivered away in the cold night air for an hour or so until the all-clear sounded when the truck came round to pick us up again. We often heard the jerry planes overhead, but we were under orders not to fire unless the planes dropped bombs or strafed installations on the field. This they did on only two occasions, when they dropped a few anti-personnel “butterfly” bombs and an HE shell, which dropped on a runway, putting a hole in it (which was repaired next day) and slightly damaging a few nearby planes. I wasn't on the gun crew on either of those nights, but a few of the fellows who were, got a good scare out of it (to say nothing of getting all muddy when they hit the dirt). Luckily, there wasn't any real harm done. Best of all, there were no casualties. But, believe me, Sweet, it was no fun at all getting out of a nice warm sack in the dead of night to go dashing out to the guns in freezing weather. Sometimes we “sweated out" the all clear as long as two hours and more. Some day, if you ever want to hear about it (which I doubt) I'll tell you more about it. There is much more to tell about the buzz-bombs, which came over from July ’44 ’til about March ’45. It just so happened that our base is situated in what was known as "buzz bomb alley,” which means that we were in the line of flight of the bombs aimed for London. When I say “came over" I mean just that! For a period of a coupla months we were alerted from one to four and five times each night. Within fifteen or twenty minutes we heard the tell-tale throb of the motor of the robot bomb and soon after, the ball of fire that was the burning exhaust gases of the jet-motors. Some of the bombs were plainly seen as they passed directly over our heads at a height of only a few hundred feet. At first, when the alert sounded, we all used to pile out of our sacks to “watch the bombs go by", and yes, to hop into the nearby trenches when we heard one of them "cut out", which presaged their dive to earth. Occasionally, but not often, a bomb would drop a few miles from the base. The blast was terrific even from that distance. Often, we counted two and three bombs going over at the same time. Toward the end, however, when the novelty had worn off, I, and a few others in our barrack, didn't bother to get out from under the covers when the alert sounded. I had one anxious moment on this account—The alert had sounded. A few of the men got up at once to sweat out the doodle-bugs. I didn't see any sense to getting out of bed to see something that gains nothing by repetition. I dozed off again, only to be wakened by the sound of the robot’s motor sounding apparently directly overhead. Abruptly, the motor cut out. I knew what that meant—that the bomb was starting its dive to earth. A hundred thoughts ran thru my mind in that moment. My first instinct was to hop out of bed and make a dash for the trench just outside the door. But I wasn’t so panicky that I didn't realize before I had a chance to move a muscle, that if the bomb was indeed on it's way down that I’d never make it to the trench before it hit—so I just lay where I was for a few frozen instants. Luckily, the bomb had malfunctioned, and instead of going into a nose dive (as it was supposed to do) it glided off at an angle and landed a few miles from the station, exploding with a roar that shook all the surrounding country. The fellows who had gone outdoors got the worst of it, ’cause when the motors cut out what seemed to them immediately overhead, they with one accord jumped into the trench which in itself wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the fact that it had rained steadily the few days preceding, and the trenches were knee-deep in water! You can imagine how the guys felt about all this—They were browned off plenty, believe me!

Well, darling, there will be no more doodlebugs, thank God, and the trenches have all been filled in and we're just marking time and wondering what comes next—and hoping, to a man, that it will be home. 

Any thoughts I might have about home just now would only bore you to tears—you've heard them from me so many times, so I'll conclude this with a few words that I pray will never bore you coming from me—I adore you, my Evie—A kiss for Adele. My love to all.

Lovingly,
Your Phil

P.S. I'll try to write while on pass—honest!

Post #652 - May 18, 1945 Milt Brown is At the Front Again, Seeing Action on Minandoa [Mindanao]

 

May 18, 1945

Sweetheart Mine:

It is now seven days since I had mail from you. I realize that I cannot depend on receiving mail regularly due to the movement of troops, supplies, etc., but I can't help wondering what the hold up is and whether or not you are coming back to the States. I'm terribly restless because of it and I'll feel lots better when I know something - one way or the other. This stage reminds me of the times we didn't know where we stood in the draft.

I wanted to tell you about several of Adele's remarks and always seem to forget. The other day she said to Mom, "Nanmom, do me a favor, Bring me up a glass of milk." This morning she went to the mirror, fussed with her hair and said, "I'm making myself a pompadour," Yesterday when I was walking with her over to my mother's a woman, who lives across the street from my mother, called to Adele, "How are you, honey?" She replied, "I'm fine, How's your husband?" Well, I thought we'd both die! She (Adele) had never seen the woman's husband, nor did she ever make a remark like that before. She must have overheard someone else use the expression and fitted it in perfectly. What a kid! Phil, if you don't come home soon, I don't what I'll do! Adele is so very interesting now and I can't help feel that you are missing so much that I know you would enjoy. Gosh, darling, she's liable to be jealous of you when you vie for my affections, but I doubt it, cause she's not a jealous kid, nor is she selfish. She'll give Diana anything we ask her to or any one else for that matter. Most kids usually won't part with their possessions. I know Diana won't, but Adele always did. It really doesn't matter, for it is what they do when they are older that counts the most.

Adele napped one day this week, but for the most part, she has more or less cut out the afternoon naps, I'd say she naps about two to three times a week now. She's been sleeping very soundly and has been so good lately that I'm afraid to talk about it for fear something will change,

Last night I bathed her, sewed and knitted and washed some clothes. That's how I spend most of my evenings when I stay in. I have no patience for letter-writing and haven't written letters for some time now. Milt Brown is at the front again, seeing action on Minandoa, as I haven't heard from him for some time.

Remember Dotsie, Ben's niece (candy store)? Well her family bought a candy store out in West Philly and they moved out there yesterday. I tore this when pushing my carriage and don't feel like typing it over. Hope it gets through okay.

I'm hoping there will be some mail for me tomorrow. That's all I seem to think about any more. Good night, honey, I love you so very much and am so impatient for some word from you.

Your Eve

Post #651 - May 17, 1945 This Hot, Sticky Weather Continues, and I Don't Like It One Bit and Just As Much as I, You Must Continue to Be the “Good Soldier" You Have Always Been

 

May 17, 1945

My sweet,

As I told you in yesterday's v-mail I went straight out to Dot’s from work. She had asked me to meet her at the bakery and I arrived there about 6:40. I stayed only a few minutes, as the boss told Dot she could leave. Dot works until 7 generally, but the boss made an exception this time.

After a delicious dinner of veg. soup, breaded veal cutlet, fried potatoes, etc. Dot’s mother put Harold (he gets more handsome each time I see him) to bed and Dot and I went shopping. I could not get the jerseys and pajamas, though we tried some six or seven stores. All I could get for Adele was a pair of coral colored light-weight gabardine shorts (on the order a sunsuit) and a pair of acqua linen shorts.

We went from one store to another and at one of the places Dot spotted an all white waffle pique dress that was stunning. Since she has to attend her cousin's wedding shortly, she decided to buy the dress for the occasion. And so we went - from one store to another. On our way back to her house we stopped at a little dress shop just off Sansom St. on 60th St. Well, honey, yours truly bought two dresses only because they were both reduced. They are winter dresses and I doubt if I'll have much wear out of them for a months, but they were bargains - and you know me when it comes to a bargain. One dress is a powder blue gabardine sports dress, buttons down the front, has sport pockets with buttons on the shoulders, two pleats in front, one in the back and plenty of darts and tucks that make it fit just right. It was reduced from $14 to $9. The other is a crepe material - and an odd shade of green that I find it hard to describe. It's a very deep acquay green with gold buttons down the front. There is a small ruffle that runs across the bust and back over the shoulders. It has small pockets in the front on either side, trimmed with the ruffle. The neckline is gathered and ties with a small bow. The belt is snug fitting and also tied with a small bow. It was reduced from $10.00 to $4.79 and is only a size 9, but it fits me to perfection. That's because it's cut very fully.

Tired, but happy, we went back to Dot's and I rested until 10:30 at which time I said my goodnights and went home. About 11:15 I was home after making good connections on both el and subway. I showed Mom the things I bought and she liked the dresses very much.

I was in bed by 12:15 and had a good night’s rest. This hot, sticky weather continues, and I don't like it one bit. You can't feel comfortable for so much as a minute. There has been no mail from you all week and I can't help wondering at the delay, especially at this time. Gosh, honey, I just can't wait till I hear from you! I love you so much, baby, and if you don't mind I'll just take you in my arms and hug and kiss you to my heart’s content. That's just how I feel -

Your Eve



17 May 1945

Evie, Darling,

Just got back from the Aero Club, where I saw combat films of the battle for Cologne, and the pictorial record of the hellish work of the nazis in the concentration camps. The pictures are beyond description. I was conscious of two emotions while viewing the films; a great pity for the poor people who fell into the sadistic hands of the nazi sub-humans, and a tearing hate for the monsters responsible for this wholesale degradation and murder of so many thousands of people. I have no shred of sympathy for the germans in general, or the nazis in particular. It would be no less than just to allow them to starve into obliteration, as they forced others to do. I don't like to dwell on this, Chippie, but one doesn’t forget these things easily - nor should we!

There isn't much to report today. Last night Klein and I went to the movie to see "This is the Life” with Susanna Foster, Donald O'Connor and Peggy Ryan. It was a fair sort of show, and we enjoyed it.

For the past three days I've been making out the "Adjusted Rating Card” for all the guys in the organization. When I started, I thought I could finish in a day, but it took every bit of three. I haven't figured the average for the Sqdn., but I guess it's about 60. My score is 70, not 71, as I previously reported. I've found out that my Enlisted Reserve time isn't good for a solitary point, but I still rate pretty high within the Sqdn., if that means anything which—it don’t at this stage of the game. Believe it or not, we don’t have one man with 85 points! We expect a lot of transferring, shifting about, etc, about the end of the month. The men who are over 42 years old are being discharged, and a handful of men on the station who have 95 points and more. The rest of us are "sweating out the Pacific” and hoping with all our hearts that we'll get a stay in the States first.

I don't know what hopes you have allowed yourself to build up, honey, but you must know by now that I won't be discharged until the campaign against the japs has been successfully concluded - barring unforeseen circumstances. The best we can hope for for the immediate future is that I'll get a furlough home before shipping to the Pacific. This must hit you pretty hard, Chippie, as it has me (I really thought I stood a chance for discharge before the minimum score was announced) but I long ago learned the futility and uselessness of feeling bitter and railing against the fates. I hope you have, too. If ever there was a time when you needed courage and patience - now is the time. Please don't let me down, darling, by weakening at this point. I can bear anything just as long as I know you are strong. If you let the weight of cruel circumstance bear you down now, after holding up so beautifully all this time, it might well be my own finish. The one thought I can't live with is that you have given way to despair. That is why, darling Evie, I repeatedly impress upon you the need for iron fortitude and boundless patience - no matter what setbacks the future may hold. Just as much as I, you must continue to be the “good soldier" you have always been—for both our sakes, but especially for the punkin.

Don't let my little exhortation discourage you, Sweet. I’m still hopeful of a happy time together before we have further cause for heartbreak. I love you with all my heart, my lovely. A sweet kiss for my adored punkin. Love to all from

Your Phil

Post #650 - May 16, 1945 I Was A Little Startled to See How Much Adele Resembled Barbara Leiberman

 

May 16, 1945

Phil, dearest.

Last night when Ruth brought Adele in, I was a little startled to see how much Adele resembled Barbara Leiberman. Ruth had put her hair into braids and the first thing Adele said to me was: "Mommy how do you like my pigtails?” Adele has the same kind of hair as Barbara and really looks a lot like Barb, but I think Adele has a nicer nose and that dimple in Adele's chin is definitely an asset.

Lil sent Mom a package of jellies for Mother's Day. By the way, did I tell you that I had a letter from Lil last week, saying that she was going to surprise the pack of us by dropping in on us unexpectedly. I won't be surprised - I'll drop from shock.

When Adele had said her "good-nights" we went upstairs and I bathed her. It was nine o'clock by the time I finished bathing her, washing clothes, etc. and I was tired, so I laid down and the next thing I knew it was 12 o'clock. The warm weather has set in and heat was terrific yesterday. I had some milk, took a shower and went back to sleep. I couldn't fall asleep for a long time and did a lot of thinking - all about you, sweet. I keep wondering what our first meeting will be like and when it will happen and what we'll do and say.

My period delayed still another day, but by the time I got.into work it was here and I felt miserable. Before leaving for work I called Dot and told her I might be out this evening to pick up the underwear she bought for Adele. She asked me to come for dinner. I hated to ask anyone to put Adele to sleep and when I approached my mother she said it would be alright. I have a lot of shopping to do for little things for Adele such as jerseys, pajamas, shorts, etc. and Dot's neighborhood has a greater variety and the prices are much lower. I immediately called Dot and told her I'd be out for dinner and we could shop around after dinner, allowing ourselves ample time, so that it would not be necessary to rush. I would get out to Dot's too late if I went home and then out to West Philly. Dot was tickled. Since the hot weather set in I must have light weight clothes for Adele. Yesterday she wore overalls and a long sleeve jersey and she perspired too much. Today I let her wear a dress for the first time in months, that is, all day long. It's very warm and with the arrival of the warm weather comes the necessity for buying light-weight things for her.

I'm banging this out at work, just before leaving for Dot's. I wanted to be sure I got a letter off, as I know I won't have the time later in the evening. Just room enough to tell you what I'll never tire telling you - that I love you dearly, Phil.

Your Eve

Post #649 - May 15, 1945 I’ve Heard Many Reports About What the 8th Air Force May Do and Our Adele Will Be Made to Feel That It's Her, Primarily, That I’m Coming Home To

 

May 15, 1945

My dearest one,

No mail from you since Saturday, just because I'm looking forward to it so keenly. I did receive a card from Jack Nerenberg, who is back in the hospital and up for discharge. He told me to wish him luck. He says his hearing “stinks” and no doubt he will have to undergo another operation before he can improve further. There was also a card from Len and Lee, who have named their sonny boy, Arthur Robert.

When I got home last night I took two aspirins, ate dinner and luckily, Ruth took Adele to her girlfriend's house until 8 o'clock, so I was able to lie down and rest. By the time Ruth returned with Adele my splitting headache had disappeared and I was able to get around again. I bathed Adele, washed her hair, washed my hair, showered myself and washed clothes. It was after 10 when I finished and still feeling pretty good, I came down and knitted on Adele’s sweater for a half hour. Had some milk and cake and hit the hay by 11:30.

Al called for Harry last night and they went to the fights. When Ruth brought Adele back to the house, she immediately noticed the car. She said to me, "Mommy, whose car is that?” I told her that Al was here and since she is so wild about Al, she said, "Where is he? I want to see him” and ran into the kitchen. She greeted him royally and kissed him, and asked him about Paul and Stuart. I let Adele talk to Anne (the girl I work with) over the phone and in the middle of the conversation Adele said. "So what are you doing?” and I thought Anne would throw a fit. One of the neighbors said to her. "My but you're growing up to be a big pretty girl!” Her reply: "I'm stunning!" Boy is she conceited! Honestly, honey, if you could hear some of the cracks that come out of her you'd grab her up and eat her. She's just at that stage where she worms her way into your affections and knows exactly how to do it. Her teething seems to have subsided a bit and her face is clearing again. I made an appointment to see Dr. Lefkoe this morning and he cannot take me before June 1. He only has office hours at the Broad St. address on Friday nights, hence the delay. I can’t go at any other time. By June 1 her shoes will be on their last lap and she’ll get new ones the following day, providing I can get them. I hope he'll permit her to have oxfords, though I doubt it.

The last week of May will be a hectic one for me. I’ll have to take Adele to Dr, Gayl’s on Monday night for the Dick test and bring her back on Tuesday evening for a reading. On Friday night I’ll have to take her to Dr. Lefkoe's, and on Saturday, in all probability, I'll take her in town for shoes. Yeh man! I’ll be a happy girl when it's all over.

I’ve heard many reports about what the 8th Air Force may do, but I'm still not satisfied with any of them. Dot called me last night and told me that Snuff will be home on June 8th on furlough. I love you, baby.

Your Eve

15 May 1945

Dearest Chippie,

Things are looking up! The war is over in Europe, I'm getting caught up in my work, there is a good chance that I'll be coming home (at least for a while), the weather is just plain lovely, and I'm catching up with my correspondence. In addition, your letters are getting longer these days, which also helps to put me in good spirits. (Just heard a comment on the radio that Congress is considering discharging all men with more than three children—big of them isn't it?)

Your letter of 6 May tells of your excursion to the Orlando Club with Harry and Goldie and Gloria. If I'm any judge, baby, those drinks you had should have been sufficient to make you feel pretty mellow. Did you? I figger you must have felt just about the way I feel now after three pints of very potent beer at the base canteen. It was such a lovely evening, that when Klein suggested we go for a coupla beers (right after I had finished the first paragraph of this), I took him right up on it. I felt like company, so I invited Bill Senneway along. I'm continuing this more as a test than for any other reason, ’cause I'm feeling very “unnatural” at the moment. As I said, we had three pints apiece while Bill told us of his recent furlough in Ireland, which he enjoyed very much. Klein and I are considering spending our next furlough there, about the first week in June. The only drawback (man, does that word look drunk) is that I would like very much to spend my next leave at Meadowcroft. Then, there is a seashore resort (Torquay) that everyone raves about, and which I have been considering as a tentative haven for my next leave—; To say nothing of Scotland, where a good percentage of the G.I.’s go on their furloughs. I’ll probably wait ’til the last minute to make up my mind. It's six weeks since we left the station, Sweet, and I figure it's time I broke loose.

Your letter also told of taking those family pictures in the house. I shall try to wait most patiently to see the results (how’m I doin', honey, do I make sense-—I’m really woozy, no kiddin'—but you'd better not say a word, or I'll toss that “old fashioned" and two “Tom Collins" right back at you), Remind me, honey, to take you out some night and get you good and drunk—I think I’d enjoy it hugely—you might even forget what few inhibitions you have left, and who knows what might come of it? I'm just unscrupulous enough to take advantage of you—know what mean? But where in hell do the malted milks come in? That I can't understand!!

Your paragraph about letting the punkin descend the stairs alone for the first time brought home to me to me better than anything else possibly could, how very much the young lady she must be now. I'm just dying to see her, Ev. Every time I contemplate holding her close to me I get a lump in my throat.— Which reminds me, darling, that if it turns out that you and Adele should both be present when I make my appearance at home, I think it would be wise if I embraced her first. I've heard of a case where a child acquired a real and lasting aversion to her father, whom she had never seen, because he embraced his wife (her Mommy) before he paid the slightest attention to her. I can understand that, Chippie, and I'll be taking no chances in that respect. Our Adele will be made to feel that it's her, primarily, that I’m coming home to. I know I can trust you to understand when I make straight for the punkin. Darling, it’s heavenly just to imagine the reunion! I pray it will be soon. I adore you both, my darlings—

Always

Your adoring Phil

Post #648 - May 14, 1945 Adele's Face is a Bit Rashy Due to the New Teeth that Just Put In an Appearance

 

May 14, 1945

Dearest Phil,

In yesterday's air-mail letter I forgot to tell you that we didn't go out to have dinner, as we had planned, because it rained. Instead, Harry went to Broad Street and brought home a Chinese dinner for four, Mom included. We had soup, egg rolls, lobster, rice, shrimp and all the decorations. Mom ate the stuff, but she said she preferred one of her dinners. I liked it.

I'm typing this at work (5:30) and am doing so because I’m going to lie down as soon as I get home. I've had a terrible splitting headache all day long and can't help  but marvel at my ability to keep my head up.

There was no mail from you today. How do I know? Mom didn’t call me to tell me. By the way, honey, just in case there is a delay in the mail I want to tell you that I didn't write on May 12th and I combined the 12th and 13th in my long air-mail letter yesterday. Included with yesterday's letter were the two pictures we took when Gloria was in Philly.

Nothing unusual occurred between the time that I last wrote and now. Writing to Gloria, typing a letter to the attorney for my mother and knitting for some 30 minutes occupied the remainder of my evening last night. I was fast asleep by 11 and slept uninterruptedly till 7:15 this morning. However I still do not feel rested or very well, simply because I'm overdue. I’ve noticed that I always come down with a splitting headache just before it arrives,

Am wearing the corsage today and it is in its last stages. I’m going to press it and keep it. It still smells lovely and gives the office a pleasant aroma.

Adele's face is a bit rashy due to the new teeth that just put in an appearance. She keeps biting on her fingers to help them through and is quite annoyed by the pain. I'm going to call Dr. Lefkoe tonight or tomorrow and make an appointment to have her feet examined. She'll have to have shoes within the next three or four weeks, as her present ones are rapidly becoming just right.

Honey, I just wish you could see how crazy Paul is about Adele. Whenever he sees her he only wants to kiss her. Sometimes she's, willing, but most of the time she isn't. The two of them had plenty of fun together when he was here yesterday by walking up and down the front stops and sort of jumping down. Naturally I was on hand to watch - just in case. Adele walks up and down the front steps alone (outside), but I like to watch her closely when she does. I'm still anxiously awaiting some word of what will happen to you in the near future and that is my greatest concern now. I'm still hoping that you'll soon be with the one who loves you so dearly.

Your Eve

Post #647 - May 12, 1945 Can It Be That Our Luck is That Bad??? and Once I Return Home, I'll Have Only Three People's Interests at Heart—Yours, Adele's, and Mine

 

May 12, 1945

Dearest Phil,

There will be no letter for the 11th. My intentions were good - or shall I say the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. When I returned from work, had dinner, bathed Adele, washed her hair and then some clothes, I decided to lay down for an hour or so before writing. As it was, I slept from 9 to 10:30, whereupon I arose just long enough to go down and bring up my clock, get undressed, and back into bed I went for the rest of the night till 6:45 this morning. Diana cried all night (she is teething) and woke Adele once. I held my breath until she went back to sleep for fear that she, (Adele) too, would be troublesome all night.

After my usual five hours at work today I had lunch at H & H with Anne and we, went shopping together for Mother's Day. We shopped all afternoon and came home with nothing. All I know is that I was so weary I could bearly move. After resting, giving Adele her dinner, getting her to bed, eating my own dinner and resting some more I am writing on this.

The two bouquets and the corsage came late this afternoon. The corsage is lovely, but for some reason or other I'm way down in the dumps. Besides I have no place to go and I do wish I could go somewhere to show off that lovely corsage. The bouquets were very disappointing and skimpy. Don't feel badly about it, because both Moms were thrilled with them, regardless of their quantity. I know how high flowers are and while the carnations themselves are really beautiful they make up a skimpy bouquet. But they are much appreciated nevertheless and it isn't your fault, and your good intentions are realized by all. My mother's bouquet consisted of twelve carnations with some branches of green leaves, while Mom's was some fern and nine carnations. The flowers, by the way, are all pink. The bouquets last year were much nicer.

May 13, 1945 

In case you're wondering what happened in the interim, let me enlighten you. When I finished typing the above, I got a brilliant idea and decided to take Mom to the movies. We promptly dressed and left for the Logan to see "Roughly Speaking" with R. Russell and Jack Carson.

Let's start at the beginning. I last wrote to you on Thursday, immediately before going to the Lindley with Fay to see “Meet Me in St, Louis" with Judy Garland. It was an attractive picture and entertaining, but I didn't care for it. It was about 12:30 when I got to bed. Incidentally, while at the movies I saw those movies depicting the Nazi atrocities and they were terrible.

I've already told you what happened on Friday, with the exception that I received your v-mail of May 3rd, which requires no comment.

Yesterday (Saturday). I received your v-mails of May 5th and 6th and from the tone of your letters I gather that you're not too pleased with your present position as concerns discharge from the Army. I kind of felt the same way all along and I'm praying it will not be so and that you will be discharged. The Air Corps is being handled differently from what I've read in the papers and I'm hoping that it will be to your advantage. Can it be that our luck is that bad??? It seems to me that hard luck dogs our way every time we look forward to something to our advantage. Naturally, we'll have to accept whatever course is taken, but that doesn't mean that I shall be pleased about it, if it is other than I want it to be. No need to tell you how much I shall be looking forward to your next few letters. This "indefiniteness" always did get me down and it's no different now than it was when we started with the draft board - or, rather, when they started with us. Four years of Army has gotten me fed up to the ears and I wonder how much more I'll be able to stand of it.

I know full well how much it means to you to get home and be with us as before and if there's a God he'll certainly look to us this time or I shall be very, very disappointed.

Harry happened to be going to Broad St, when Mom and I left and had gotten a cab, so Mom and I piled in, much to Mom's relief. Since Harry's income has increased to such high proportions he's extremely liberal with his dough and no expense is too great for him. On Broad St. I made Mom stop at one of the hat shops, wanting to buy her a hat, but nothing looked well on her. However, I was able to get an idea of what does look well on her and will try to get something for her in town. I bought my mother a clothes basket, at her request and am giving her $5 in cash. "Roughly Speaking" was a very entertaining film and one that made me "think". Hard luck dogged the tracks of R. Russell in most everything she undertook to do and I wondered if I could hold up as well under such circumstances. I don't think so.

After the movies we walked home and stopped in Ben's for ice-cream. When we got back to the house Harry and Goldie gave Mom her Mother's Day gift - a lovely acqua and brown print cotton dress and two pairs of silk stockings. Harry bought Goldie the following: A corsage like mine, except that hers has three gardenias, instead of two as mine does, a mirrored and mahogany jewel box filled with Dairy Maid candy and a pair of 10 K gold earrings with amethyst stones (and Goldie couldn't help telling me that he paid $20 for the earrings). He wouldn't tell her at first, but she insisted on knowing only the price of the earrings, which are really beautiful.

It was one o'clock when I decided it was high time I got to bed. I don't feel so well, expecting to have my period before the day is out. I thought I'd get all dressed up and take pictures, but I'm afraid the weather is not conducive to picture taking. It was raining this morning (yes, again) but it is clearing up now and if at all possible I shall try to take some snaps of Adele and myself.

I'm keeping the corsage in the refrigerator to keep it fresh. I shall wear it this afternoon when we all go out to eat. I'm going to wear my new acqua dress to set it off just right. During the past week I've been out three times and if we go out today as we plan, it will make four times in one week. That's me—either I go out too much or I stay in too much. I don't mind the going out in the least, except that it gives me little and sometimes no time to catch up on some much needed sleep. Friday night I was just too tired to live and it's a good thing I caught up on my rest, 'cause I got to bed very late last night and stayed awake most of the night, feeling very crampy. The blues had me in their grip and consequently I cried myself to sleep.

Enclosed are the pictures we took last Sunday. I've made some comments on the back of each. By the way, how do you like me in cape sleeves? I know you're going to say Harry looks stout - he is, weighing 240.

You mentioned in one of your v-mails that you were sending along $55 to cover Adele's insurance. I don't want to quibble about "little things" either when such big events are taking place in the world, so will you accept my thanks? I assure you I am most appreciative of your efforts in this connection. The money, when received, will go into our bank account, which, at the present time totals $400,

This morning when Adele was all dressed in her little blouse and skirt, she said, "Mommy, Daddy's going to come home"! When I asked why, she said, "He has to see how pretty I look!" How true, how true! Phil, she comes out with so many surprising remarks she really floors me at times. I do wish I had more patience for letter-writing, let alone time. Darling, if only you'd come home soon -

Adele seemed sleepy, so I put her into her crib for an early nap, which, is most unusual for her. I'm going to join the folks and have some lunch. If it's at all possible I intend to catch a nap myself before getting dressed. Thanks so much, darling, for everything and I wish so much that you could be here to share it with us. I love you so much, dear daddy, and am your loving

Eve

Darling,

Decided to add a few??? more words to this just in case I don't have the opportunity to write at length tomorrow.

After lunch I went upstairs to find that Adele hadn't napped at all. Instead she had busied herself making a tiny hole in the sheet take on large proportions and the sheet itself was almost in shreds. So I did the next best thing - dressed her and myself. When we were all ready we both looked like fashion ads - no kiddin'. Adele wore her squared-necked white pleated blouse, her little green and red plaid wool pleated skirt, her locket, white socks, red beret and new blue coat (with a pink carnation on the lapel. She looked very neat and very smart. I'm wearing my hair differently again (yes, again). This time I part it in the center and merely brush it back, sort of a Hedy LaMarr style, except that it is very soft and fluffy. I put the bottom of my hair in a fine invisible net. I borrowed a pair of Mom's earrings (Glo once gave them to her) that consist of a cluster of three pearls. These matched perfectly to the pearl buttons running down the front of my bright acqua dress. There wasn't a soul who didn't comment on the acqua dress when i made an appearance, and the comments were extremely favorable. Naturally, I wore the corsage and it was set off beautifully by the brilliant acqua color, very much like the outfit I wore when we were married. I don't think, I shall wear that dress much, as I'm certain you will love it and I want you to see it while it's still new. Adele and I went walking to Emma's house and stayed a short while. Phil is shipping to a POE tomorrow.

Walking back from Em's it became so uncomfortably warm that we had to remove our coats. It was very much like summer today, but just as all the other days thus far in May, we had several rainstorms, most of which took place toward evening. It is almost nine o'clock and I'm endeavoring, in some small way give you an idea of how we looked. It's really a pity we couldn't take snaps. No camera was the cause, although we do have film.

Ethel, Al, Paul, Stuart and Rae came over about three o’clock. Ethel bought Mom a seersucker dress and Mickey and Rae filled her desire for a pair of pajamas. I wish you could see Mom in the pajamas! It was like a madhouse here all afternoon and shortly after the first raft left, in walked Lena, Etta and Nat. Adele is beginning to get her two year molars and was very out of sorts both yesterday and today. Adele is breaking herself of her afternoon naps and hasn't had one for days now.

Before starting this supplement I wrote a nice letter to Gloria, thanking her for everything and sending along one of the family snaps made last Sunday. I have a lot of typing to do for my mother and will do it as soon as I finish this. I didn't get unwell yet and I'm not surprised. It seems that I'm a day or two or three late each time.

I'm enclosing a notice about the 8th Air Force which appeared in today's paper. Do you know anything about it? I'm also enclosing a card Mr. Bellet received from the Hi-Flier Company, from whom we purchase kites, because I thought the card very cute, and that you might enjoy reading ít.

My cousin Bessie's husband was one of the very first to be discharged, so we learned from the papers. Big deal -

Only one thing could have made this day complete for me and that was you. Darling, I miss you so keenly and each time I gazed at the corsage or even smelled it I got so very full inside I wanted to cry out. I love you so much my dearest and wish very much that I could take you in my arms and tell you with words and actions just how I adore being

Your Eve

12 May 1945

My Darling,

It is Sunday afternoon, the first Sunday we've had off in almost two years. Instead of sleeping late, as sensible people would do, Klein and I got up at 7 o'clock to ride down to the mess-hall for breakfast. When we got back, we lay down for a nap, but it is such a lovely afternoon, that it seemed a waste of a lot of sunshine to stay indoors. We accordingly got into our bathing trunks and went down the road to get into the volleyball game. We played for about an hour and a half and then went to see if we had any mail. Klein had a few letters, but I didn't get any. Then I remembered about that roll of film I have, and suggested we borrow a camera and take some snapshots. Unfortunately, one of the fellows took the only "620" camera on furlough with him, so we were out of luck on that score. Having a few hours to kill before supper and the first show, which is "The Climax", I decided to get my letter off to you and then shower. There is a Victory Dance" at the Aero Club tonight, so I believe I'll take it in. The "New Yorkers", a twelve-piece band, who are highly touted, will play for the dance.

You may have noticed, Chippie, that I've been writing on an average of every other day. This is because I find it almost impossible to write every day. As compensation, instead of short V-mails, I'll try to write letters of decent proportions, as formerly—O.K? Your V-mail of 2 May arrived yesterday, and while it contained some items of interest, such as Sonya's visit to Philly, and her news of Jack's wedding, Jennie Zaslow's coming marriage (Dave's brother is a lucky guy—she's a sweet girl), your plans to take family pictures when Glo comes in, and the rather surprising news that your Dad is applying for a job as an insurance salesman, there is no need for further comment.

When I wrote that “longie" of 10 May in answer to yours of 28 April, I forgot to comment on your information that you finally aired your intention to make a break to the folks. I think you picked the ideal time to announce it to them, Sweet. Having previously made known their own intentions of taking off for the summer, they didn’t have much justification for feeling hurt, did they? What's more, it don't think it was at all fair of them to so make their plans that you would be left alone in 4906. It is just this kind of thoughtlessness that makes me burn. Believe me, honey, I'm through worrying about everyone else. Once I return home, I'll have only three people's interests at heart—yours, Adele's, and mine. Just between you and me, Sweet, I've been disappointed in Mom or more than one occasion. She evidently has the mistaken idea that she has no responsibilities toward anyone but herself. However, if she expects me to be responsible for her, she'd do well to change her attitude. I always liked having her with me, and would like to continue to do so, but I won't tolerate a purely selfish attitude on her, or anyone else's, part. She'll have to “pull her own weight” as long as she is able if she expects to live with us. You needn’t fear that I am blinded to her faults thru sheer loyalty, Sweet, (as is the case with some sons), nor would I have any qualms about telling her off in any matter where I felt she hadn't behaved as she should. If I remember correctly, I did just that before I look you to Columbus. I know I can trust you, darling, not to take advantage (at Mom's expense) of your “priority” in my obligations. In closing, you have my best wishes for a successful and happy outcome to the course you are taking. I hope everyone concerned will profit by the "break". My one regret is that I’ll have to revise my dream of coming home to "4906.” I think, honey, you've underestimated the affection I felt for the place.

Time to shower, now, baby, so I'll take my leave now with all my love to you, and Adele—and all. Keep hopin'—honey. I am!—and keep writing, as often as you can, to 

Your ever-lovin' Phil

P.S. I'll write to the Jacks tomorrow—I hope!