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..
This letter is destined to make you very, very happy, For in it you will learn that I signed my discharge this evening. I was called into the Orderly Room about 6 P.M. and told to sign the precious paper. That, my dear, is what I call a "labor of love." All that remains now is for it to be signed up at Division H.Q. where it is being sent tonite. I anticipate no drawback from that source, and I should be a completely happy man very shortly. Maybe within two weeks. How do you like those apples, Baby? I'm writing with Sam's pen and it’s no damn good. But nothing phases me now, and I'll write if I have to squeeze the ink out. Glad to hear you are all well even if money is scarce. That can be remedied - and will be. I just got paid $16.00. They took $2.00 off for laundry and $3.00 for the few days remaining in August, which we'll get next pay. I'm sending $14 with Sam. You'll probably get it before you read this. Pay Mom what you owe her and buy yourself a new car with the rest. Seriously though, honey, I'm sorry it couldn't be more - but I really couldn't spare any more. After I paid a few petty debts which amounted to 60¢ I only have $1.50 left. I'll stretch it as far as I can, hoping I run out of here before I run out of money. Sorry to hear Yale got such a rotten break, but I rather expected something of the sort. We Strongins aren't any too lucky. The weather here is wonderful. Sunny, cool, and breezy - an ideal combination. The work today wasn't too hard, either. Outside of the preceding, I have no news to divulge, so I'll just say good night ’til tomorrow. My love to all, of course. And to you, my lovely, pleasant dreams - and may I be included in them, for I love you dearly.
I'm terribly sorry, honey, that this will have to be a "shortie” after not writing since the 6th, but I really couldn't help myself as I've been working steadily for the past three days from 8:30 A.M. to 10:30 and 11:00 P.M., with hardly a break except for eating. It is 11 o'clock now, and I'm dead beat, but I just had to drop you a few lines before hitting the hay today. The reason we're so busy in the Orderly Room is that we're transferring our men out of the Sqdn., sending home those men with over 85 points, and transferring in men with over 85 points, who are scheduled to go home shortly for discharge. Most of the fellows of the old outfit have shipped out either direct to the Pacific Theater, or to Germany for AFO. (I'm still burning at the rotten deal our boys got). As the situation stands now, Chippie, I'll be coming home in six or eight weeks - IF they don't ship me to Germany in the meantime. They won't send me to the Pacific - of that I'm almost positive. I hate to put you on tenter-hooks this way, Sweet, realizing that I have led you to believe that I am certainly coming home soon, but I thought I ought to tell you about these latest developments to prepare you for any eventuality. We've been cheered no end by the great news of the atom bomb (and somewhat frightened, too, that it might get into the wrong hands), and Russia's declaration of war against the dirty japs. In the meantime, yours very lovingly is immersed in a veritable sea of paper-work, and the end is not yet in sight! I have four of your letters (29, 30, 31, 1) to answer yet, but I'm afraid it will have to wail for tomorrow. I hope to be able to write at length then.
Keep the ole chin up a while longer yet, baby, and never forget that I love you above all. Here's a sweet good-night kiss for you, another for my punkin for keeping daddy's place next to you occupied ’til I come home, and love to all.
When you note the date above you will probably be thinking what I am thinking now —that I am writing this just a few days short of two years since we last saw each other. It has been intolerably long, Sweet, but I can almost feel cheerful about it all because I know it will only be a comparatively short time 'til we meet again—and what a reunion that will be!! Though we have been apart from each other these two years, darling, it hasn't been like that at all. You have lived in my heart and thoughts every instant of all that time, believe me—
Your V-mail of 25 July, arrived today, expresses the wish that I might give you more definite information as to my date of arrival in the good ole States. Sorry, honey, but I know no more now than I did on the 31 July, when I told you that the "dope" says sometime in October. You say something about wanting to meet the boat. I agree with you, Chippie, that it would be next to impossible for us to find each other in the mob (even if I could let you know when and where we'll disembark, which I won't be able to do), but, if the idea appeals to you, I could call you from New York as soon as we get in, and you could join me there as soon as I would be free to meet you. We could have that week together in “1777" before going home, although I do think I'd be sorely tempted to take the first train to Philly to get to my punkin. I know you've thought about it, darling; suppose you tell me how your would prefer my homecoming to be—
Yesterday was busy one for me.In the evening, I played poker, as is my custom the day after pay-day. However, this time I was plain unlucky, and barely managed to get out with my shirt. For a while there it looked very much like I'd lose that, too. Just before the game broke up, though, I took a few pots, which leaves me a few pounds to go on pass with tomorrow, Sorry I couldn't win, honey, 'cause I wanted
very much to send you some money this month. Besides, I wanted to send something along for Mom, as I feel I've been neglecting her. Don’t think for a minute, Chippie, that I might have done so, had I not played cards, 'cause I only lost four pounds ($16.00), which wasn't enough, but which might have made me enough -fershtay? [understand?] Out of the £12 which was my pay, I had to leave myself at least £8, because I've ordered a wrist-watch from the PX, which will cost about £7-10 ($30.00), but which retails for about ($70.00). Ordinarily, I wouldn't think of buying a wrist-watch at this time (especially since the one your Mom gave me is still
keeping perfect time), but the PX gets them for us at little more than cost, so I figured I’d be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.
Klein left on furlough, I've seen the picture at the station theater, and things are pretty quiet around here this evening. I'll turn in early tonight.
Also received Dot's letter of 24 July today. As usual, it is written in her usual manner—friendly and affectionate, and, as usual, there was a warm glow inside me when I finished. I did mean to answer her tonight, but this has taken me longer than I thought it would, so it looks like she'll have to wait 'til I get back from London. I'm going there tomorrow afternoon, Sweet, for 3 days, during which time I'll probably amuse myself as I have been wont to do—at the movies, concerts, etc. I had intended to go up to Yorkshire, but I have no stomach for the long and wearisome trip - maybe next time. Incidentally, baby, I hope you have written to the Davieses by now. Certainly you know what to say to them - you did so very nicely the other times.
Just room enough to send along hugs and kisses to our punkin, my dearest love to you, my darling, and love to all.
Today, pay-day, was a busy one for me. Near the end of it, tho’, I was rewarded for my industry by your nice, long letter of 23, 24 July. It was, except for its more tender interludes, a “routine" letter. However, I was surprised to learn that Eddie is “acting up" on occasion. I can't believe that his occasional fits of bad temper have any foundation in his experiences overseas, as you imply, tho’! Rather, I'm inclined to think he's being his natural, normal self, which, if I remember correctly, was ever high-strung and nervous.
Yesterday, Klein and I and Sinneway had another session down at the gym. I beat Klein two games, and Sinneway one. Then Sinneway tried to show me how to punch a light bag, but it's tricky, and will take a lot of practise. Then we had a “go" at badminton, which I had never played before, and which will also take a lot of learning. Then we come back to barracks, where I played with the idea of writing to you, but finally decided to hit the hay ’cause I was over-tired. Before turning in I showered, and made up my laundry to send in today.
The weather threatened rain all day, but except for a few drops of rain it merely threatened. After work, Klein and I went to the gym. I was still tired from yesterday, but Klein was insistent, so I went along more to oblige him than because I felt like playing. Klein, the young squirt, has enough energy for three men, but that wasn't enough, ’cause I beat him again in a grueling game that went to 21-18, The sonovagun made shots I thought he couldn't touch and ran me ragged, but my greater experience told in the end.
The one game left me almost exhausted, so we rode to the Snack Bar for a bite to eat and a coupla cakes, and then back to barracks, where, we both lay down for a nap. Tired as I was tho’, I couldn't sleep. It may have been the thought that I was due to write today that was bothering me. At any rate, after tossing about for a half-hour, I decided it was no go, so I got up and commenced this.
—Which brings me right up to the minute. And right at this particular minute I'm missing you acutely, darling. While I'm in no particular hurry to get back to the States (for reasons which I explained in my last) I am most dreadfully impatient to come home to you - torn between two fires - as it were— Baby, I'm finding it very difficult to curb my impatience these days. I think of hardly anything anymore but how it will be to hold you in my arms once again. My need for you is acute beyond description, honey. You wouldn't believe how unimportant life is to me without you. I just can't get interested for long in anything!
But I’m knocking my head against a stone wall again, so I’ll save you the distressing spectacle by signing off right here and now. I adore you, my Evie—Love and kisses to our punkin. Love to all.
Your V-mail of 22 Jul arrived today together with a long letter from brother Jack. He sent along a snap-shot, which however, is so small that it is impossible to tell how he looks. He says, tho’, that he's putting on weight. He says, too, among other things, that he gets very little mail from the family (what should I say?), but that Gloria writes almost daily. About the only thing in your V-mail that calls forth any comment is the information that our offspring takes after her old man in that she just loves hot dogs and baked beans. Very interesting! I wonder in what other traits she is "my" daughter aside from physical characteristics—
My condolences to Ruth on her uneventful 16th birthday. Tell her we'll make it up to her on her next, if it's any way possible.
Nothing much doing at this end these days. We're losing men in bunches, our planes have been shipped, except for a handful, which we're using for training some pilots, and we’re generally considered a “dead" outfit. We are, incidentally, among the last of the Air Corps Fighter Groups to leave the ETO, which, strange as it may sound, suits me right down to the ground! Why? Well, last home - last to the Pacific, and if we can hold on here a few months I'll lay odds we'll never see the Pacific! Get it? The rumor now is that we'll be here 'til mid-October, which just goes to show you how much about anything anyone knows for sure around here.
Just got back from the movies, where I saw "A Medal for Benny”. This was taken from Steinbeck's novel (at least he wrote it), and both plot and locale were interesting and entertaining. The acting, tho’, is the most striking feature of the picture. J. Carrol Naish is superb as Benny's old father, Arturo de Cordova is very good-looking, and a charming and capable actor. I look for him to get some nice, juicy parts from here on in. Dottie Lamour is appealing as the love interest, and also contributes a proficient performance. On the whole - a good picture,
You've been hesitating lately about sending out any packages, Sweet. Well, honey, my homecoming is not so imminent that I wouldn't receive them, but I was thinking that you might hold onto what candy you accumulated (if it will keep for about 8 or 9 weeks), and we'll enjoy it at home - all of us.
Can't think of another solitary thing to write at the moment, Sweet - except, I love you more and more. By the time I do get home, I'm liable to go off like a firecracker at the mere sight of you, Baby, I miss you so—My best love to Adele. Love to all from
Today brought your V-mail of 19 Jul, which means that Air Mail (your letter of 20 Jul arrived yesterday) is moving faster than V-mail. There wasn't anything startling in this V-mail. It confirmed my supposition that Mom came in from Brown's Mills on that day. I'm glad she's enjoying herself and feeling good. Too bad, honey, that you couldn’t get away someplace for a vacation. Your Mr. Bellet must be a stinker of the first water to pull some of the stunts he does. I don't understand why you continue to work for him. Surely, there must be plenty of other places that would be glad to have you under the same conditions, and you might be treated decently in the bargain.
You say something about holding on to "Mike" until the fall. If you have any intention of submitting it, Chippie, I say do it now, because it is a timely theme, whose significance may be dissipated in a few more months, and you wouldn't have even a slim chance of selling it then. You haven't said anything about "ETOUSA Interlude". I would like to have the editors of Esquire take a look at it, even if nothing comes of it. Personally, I think more of it as a hunk of writing than I do about" "Mike", although I must confess I don't think a great deal about either one.
My activities both yesterday and today were purely routine, so I'm almost at a complete loss for something of interest to tell you. Besides, I've been troubled by a persistent and annoying headache all day, and am anxious to sleep it off. Please excuse the brevity of this, honey. My everlasting love to you, sweetheart; to my own sweet punkin, and to all my dear ones.
You'll have to forgive me if the writing is a little out of whack. This evening Klein and I rode down to the base gym to play some hand-ball. Yes, we even have a hand-ball court here on the base. We played two good games, Klein winning the first 21-16, while I took the second 21-5. It has been a few years since either of us has played the game. As a consequence, Klein has a strained shoulder muscle, and my right hand is so swelled up, that I can hardly hold the pen to write. We showered just now, and aside from the inconveniences aforementioned, we're feeling fresh and fit. What's more, we intend to play a few times each week so that we'll be in good physical trim when we come home. Last time I was in London, I weighed 186, which is just ten pounds more than I like to weigh. I'd like very much to come home at my old weight - 176, and I think that if we play three or four times each week for the six or eight weeks that remains before we head for the states, I should make that weight easily. I know you'll applaud my efforts in this direction, honey. I only hope it will have the desired result. So much for that.—We're still having perfectly lovely weather. It is warm and sunny all day. In the evening, it gets nice and cool - perfect for sleeping.
Your V-mail of 17 July arrived yesterday. The high-spot in this one was Adele's remark: "Jesus Tist, it's still rainin'!” I think it's the cutest crack she ever made. It tickled me. Yesterday, too, I went to the station theater to see "The Dough-girls", with Ann Sheridan, Alexis Smith, Jane Wyman, Jack Carson, Charlie Ruggles and others. It was forced and silly in spots, but it was highly amusing on the whole, and I enjoyed it immensely. Today, which was spent mainly on transcribing the Squadron payroll, brought your V-mail of 18 July. I was pleased no end, darling, to note that you are writing almost daily again. I’ll try to get back into the habit if it's at all possible. In this one (your V-mail) you recall some of the noteworthy things that happened to us on various 23 Septembers. Your memory for dates continues to amaze me, but I don't think much of your memory for detail; viz., you mentioned the time Sam and I had dates and picked you up later. You say you were angry and annoyed with me (I'm sure I don't know why), but that you relented when I pulled (you) across the seat of the car into (my) arms: The implication you make here is that I used force to impose my will on you. I object! Never - I repeat - never, to my knowledge, did I ever have to “pull” you into my arms. I remember that night and its attending circumstances as tho’ it was yesterday, and I remember how pleased I was that you gave every indication of pleasure in my company - yes, and in my arms. Nor did you give any indication that you found my embraces and kisses distasteful - quite the contrary, my Sweet! - And if you were “angry and annoyed" with me, you certainly didn't show it by any word or action! Like you sweetheart, I'd dearly love to relive those moments - and you can bet your sweet life we will - probably a lot sooner than you are imagining!
Once again, baby, must I say a fond good night to you. It's just about time for "lights out"." Here's a coupla dozen kisses to hold you until ~ and some more for the punkin. My love to all.
