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..
The mail is slow coming through again. I have not received a letter in three days and I'm hard put today for things to say. Today was that typical routine day for me, again with nothing intervening to vary the sameness of the pattern. After supper (which I didn't eat), Captain Burdine and I went off to the movie, which was hardly worth seeing again, but which I preferred to laying around the barracks. The picture was “Lady of Burlesque.” Afterward, we stopped at the snack bar where we had toasted cheese sandwiches, which were tasty, and believe it or not—ICE CREAM, vanilla with chocolate syrup. Then back here to write this. Sorry, my experiences aren't more diverting, Baby, but that's the way it is.
In a few minutes, I'll be going to bed. It will be 10:30. I’ll lay awake a while and try to picture you and try to guess what you are doing at that particular moment. It will then be 5:30 P.M. where you are. In another few minutes, I'll be fast asleep and, perhaps, if I'm lucky, I'll see you in my dreams. Goodnight, sweet Evvie. Kiss Adele for me, her adoring daddy. Love to all from
Sorry I was unable to write yesterday, but time didn't permit as I was busy all day, and on duty all night. Naturally, I was off duty today, and I took full advantage of it by sleeping until 4 p.m. At 4:45 I went for my first meal of the day. That is, after I shaved and washed up. This evening there was a picture scheduled to be shown at the theater, and four of us went down to see it, but for some reason or other the operator didn't show up. After determining that there would be no show, we wandered over to the snack bar where we sat around and munched on French toast and drank “Cokes.” Tiring of this, we came back to our hut, where we built a fire and crowded around the stove for a “bull-session.” For a while the discussions waxed enthusiastic, but it's getting late now—everyone is sleepy and preparing to hit the hay. Me too— Good night for now, my lovely. A kiss for the punkin. My love to all.
Hooray! Hit the “jackpot” today! No less than eight lovely, luscious letters. The dates: November 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 20, 26 (V-mail). This brings my mail up to date to November 28th. Please don't expect me to answer each letter individually, Sweet, ’cause there just isn't enough time. However, I will comment on some of the more interesting phases of your letters. First, about the snapshots; Except for that one picture you mentioned (head turned and smiling) Adele is a chunky little miss dressed in a stunning outfit—and that's about all. But, that one snap you single out for your praise is really worthy of your nicest adjectives. It has the added quality of charm. I expected the “outfit” to be attractive from your descriptions, but I wasn't prepared for the actual beauty and richness of the ensemble. It is far and away the nicest thing of its kind I have ever seen. It was good to see your dear countenance in one of the pictures, Sweet, and at the instant of recognition, I felt a tug at the old heart strings. Am I fancying it, Baby, or are you losing weight again? Why didn't you let Wolpe make a picture of you, too, Chippie? The last few snapshots of you didn't do you justic— at all. Are you running yourself ragged again? Sorry to hear that the cherub was so much trouble when she caught cold. Poor dear, she certainly didn't allow you much peace. On the other hand, you did get out on two occasions and I'm tickled you had a good time. Some day, Sweetheart, we certainly will go to the plays together as you say. In the meantime, try to put aside the notion that the edge is taken off your pleasure because we can't be “together.” Enjoy the play, or the movie, or whatever the entertainment happens to be for the sake of entertainment alone. I'm truly sorry that the thought of me so far from you brings on the blues when you should be enjoying yourself. Although I admit to the same feeling, Sweet, I will say that I have made an effort to enjoy myself without mental reservations. Don't give in to that sad, sweet longing—fight it and enjoy yourself. I can understand your reluctance to go shopping for new dresses at this time, but if you're going to get around more I'd much rather you bought some new things. You're not being fair to yourself in denying yourself to the point of boredom in wearing the same dresses over and over again. I'm sure you can see your way clear to spending a few dollars for a new dress or two. If you persist in your attitude of self-denial, I cannot help but consider it a personal affront; and I shall want to know how come? Don't forget that your income is as much—or more than it ever was, and I won't tolerate your skimping on yourself. I take the same pride in your appearance that I take in my own, so please, Chippie don’t let me down in this respect. Thanks, dear, for your kind praise of my little offering. It was entirely and exclusively meant for your edification, and if it pleased you, then I'm delighted; but your notion to submit it to a publisher is ill-advised, to say the least. Take it for your own, Baby, and don't for a moment consider making any move that can only lead to disillusionment. You think it's good? Fine! Let it go at that, Sweet, ’cause it really isn't “good” as a qualified critic would see it; but then, as I said before it was meant for your appreciation only. Understand? Thanks, too, Sweet, for the addresses of the two Eddies (P and S) and the news that the third Eddie (Strongin) is probably on his way over here. Tomorrow, bright and early, I'll send off letters to the newly acquired addresses. This afternoon I wrote to the Browns and Dot and Snuff. I still have to write to Mickey and Ray and I will at the next opportunity. Your puzzlement at the source of my bicycle amused me. I didn't intentionally overlook your query, dear, but I thought the answer was so obvious that it didn’t rate an explanation. Where do I get everything I own right now? From the US Army, of course—and that's where I got the bike. As a matter of fact, almost everyone in the company has one. O.K.? Sorry I can't continue with this, Honey, but it's time for lights out, so “Goodnight, Sweetheart, ‘til we meet tomorrow—”
Here I am again on the new stationary. So dull a day has it been that I don't know just where to begin or what to tell you. I was very busy again today and the time flew. This evening, there is no show and because I ate two big meals instead of the customary one, there is no point in going to the snack bar. We are toasting the last of the marshmallows, and I sure hate to see them go, they were that good! I managed to find a few moments to bang out a thank you note to Sharpe & Dohme. I hope to get the rest of them off tonight. There hasn't been any mail from you for 5 days now and I'm looking forward to a “jackpot” again. Hope I hear from Ed and Richie before my next pass comes around December 19th. If I do—I'll spend the two days visiting.
Well, Chippie, it’s more than four months now since I saw you last, but aside from missing you terribly, I'm none the worse for wear. If I came home tomorrow, I think you wouldn't have any trouble at all recognizing your “old flame.” As far as I can see I haven't changed in any way in that time. I try to keep my mind as free from worry and care as it is in my power to do. Can you say the same, Sweet? Your state of mind and health is a prime concern to me and although your letters are largely cheerful, I'm wondering if that is your attitude through the bulk of the days. Tell me frankly, Baby; what frame of mind are you usually in? Has Adele helped to keep you mentally as well as physically occupied? Is your affection for her as pronounced and all-pervading as that you used to lavish on me? Remember my long-ago expressed hope that Adele would become the object of your manifest affections—the foil for your great capacity and need for bestowing your love? Your contention at that time was that as much as you loved her, she would never fill that specific spot in your heart that was reserved for your husband, and I was gratified no end by that particular little speech, but I would very much like to hear you admit that she has been a comfort to you in my absence. I long to hear you say that you are glad now that we conceived her when we did, in spite of your decrying the fact that she has been virtually fatherless in her first year. I long to hear you say it ’cause I can't forget that once you regretted it. I don't remember whether you admitted it in so many words, but I do know that I felt that was your feeling in the matter. I don't know if you realized at the time how that rankled within me, but now that you have had the time to think it over, and the opportunity to make up your mind, I'm more than anxious to know the verdict. What is it, Darling? I fully appreciate the joys (and trials) I am missing by being far from my baby, but I can truthfully say that, for my part, I wouldn't change any part of the history of the three of us if I could live it all over again, (unless I could, in some way, spare you the pain of the birth itself). For me—it was glorious—all of it. I would have given anything at the time to have been able to bear all or part of the burden and pain that was your lot in bearing our child. I can't help feeling unworthy of the blessing that is our adorable little Adele—so little did I “pay” for her. Believe me, Baby, I’ll consider no price too high, once I am in a position to make myself worthy and deserving of her—and you. God bless and keep you both, my darlings—for your adoring father and husband
This is some of the stationary that came with the portfolio from S&D [Sharpe & Dohme]. I like it ’cause it doesn't take so many words to fill the page. I’m only kidding, Sweet. I only wish I could think of things to say—I would not mind writing ten-pages just like this. Speaking of writing, Honey, I'm up to my old tricks again. The other night I dreamed a swell plot for short story. This is the second time since I’m in England that this has happened. If I can find enough time and quiet (which is almost impossible to attain around here) I'll write it up. If not, I'll probably forget it like the last one. Today I was busy on the typewriter all day. Last night, I saw “Johnny-Come-Lately”—an interesting picture— nothing to rave about—but that damn projector got my goat. Every 10 minutes it broke down and the soundtrack was so blurred as to be almost indistinguishable. This evening we got Dottie’s marshmallows out and toasted them over a coke stove. Yum-Yum! Most of the guys are gone from the Barracks tonight, but the few that are left are arguing about China and making enough noise to wake the dead. You'd be surprised, Chippy, how easy it is to start a discussion around here. You just make a remark about any subject at all and immediately—if not sooner, someone disagrees; in a few moments, six guys are talking at once trying to press home a point as seriously as if their life depended on it. Uust between you and me, I have the rep around here of being the most argumentative guy around here. I won’t deny the rather dubious honor. I love to argue just for the sake of argument, and rarely pass up an opportunity. Well, Darling, since there was no mail today and since this brings me up-to-date—I'll kiss you good-night.
