Post #355 - April 29, 1944 Almost Every Kid in the Neighborhood is Down with the Mumps and Red Knows a Few Girls Over Here, but He Doesn’t Get to See Them Very Often

 

April 29, 1944 

My Dearest, 

Today, at long last, I mailed off the two packages (Milky Ways and Red’s things and the stationery). It's almost like summer, though there is a slight cool breeze. Almost every kid in the neighborhood is down with the mumps and Natalie is the latest. She was playing with Adele last night and this morning she had it. I don't think mumps are common in babies Adele's age, and I don't think she'll get it. 

As you are well aware, today our little girl is exactly 17 months. I gave her a break and let her walk alone outside. She walked up and down the block and then around the corner alone, but by my side. She ran at times and I had to reprimand her. She behaved like a lady, to my utter amazement. She throws her hands in the air and says “hy ya.” She imitates Goldie’s every move. I particularly like the way she imitates Goldie chewing gum. She sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth and pulls it in with a chew-like motion and looks mighty funny. I'm glad to report that her sleeping is vastly improved. I have a new practice. I pick her up out of her sleep when I'm ready to go to bed and place her on the toddy. She “makes” and keeps dry all night. I catch her again when she wakes, thereby keeping her dry and saving myself lots of washing. She crawled behind the porch sofa today and backed herself out slowly. She steps up and down the step that connects the porch and living room. She is learning to be careful, not wishing to fall unnecessarily. I always ask her what she wants and she answers yes or no. When I talk about her to someone else, she listens closely, knowing very well that I'm speaking about her. I take her aside and explain things to her. For instance, we have the window connecting the two porches open and she likes to open and slam it. I took her to the sofa, sat her down and proceeded to tell her that she must not do that. She listens, paying strict attention. However, she doesn't always obey. I don't care about that as long as she obeys most of the time. What a kid! Mrs. Glassman said today, “Evelyn, she gets prettier every single day and if Phil could only see her!” 

Harry called Max Durits yesterday, thinking maybe he will become a cab driver instead. Max is a cab driver and Harry wanted to get the lowdown. It seems they make excellent money today. Harry hasn't decided what to do yet. 

Adele just did something very cute. She likes to talk on the telephone and insists on holding the receiver alone. She opened the phone cabinet and took the receiver off the hook and put it to her ear. I wish I could make a snap of her with it—she looks that cute. 

It's just two years since we first started up with the US Army—and I shall never forget that day or the date. I guess you've heard of the decease of Frank Knox and the rumors that the invasion is due most any day. Here's hopin’ that means an early return home—perhaps in ’44. I love you so much, my own sweet Phil. It's exactly five, so here's 

Your Eve 

29 April 1944 

Evelyn, darling, 

Before I answer, your two V-mails just arrived, I'll give you a quick resumé of “my day.” Not because it was in any way different from a few hundred others—not a bit of it, but I have to fill this sheet some way and I figure it ought to be good for at least a few lines. (I guess I could “waste” another line by pointing out that all the foregoing was written with thinly-veiled intention of taking up space—but I wouldn't do that!) 

There was just enough “business” today to keep me occupied, and to prevent me from indulging more leisurely pursuits, like reading, writing, drawing, etc. About five o'clock, having cleaned up what work there was, I preceded with my drawing. This time I took a bird's eye view (which pretty well explains the effect of the term “isometric”) from the opposite angle. This view afforded a better exposition of the front of the house. While it was still too square and bulky to be “cute,” it is nevertheless a “useful” arrangement. That, to my way of thinking, is the prime requisite. Looks, while important, are, nevertheless, secondary. I hope to have the floor plan and the exterior view ready for inking within a week. On completion, I'll send it on to you, so that you may know “what the devil all this talk of drawing and planning is all about.” (The quotes are my idea of what you probably are thinking as you read this.) I was busy, except for a few interruptions, until 9:45. Right now I am pretty weary and you'll have to forgive me if this letter sounds like it. 

Your V-mails are dated 20 and 21 April and are briefer than usual. You speak of Jack's letter, in which he indicated a tentative “surprise.” I think you are right about the “stripes,” but it may well be that he has arranged a meeting with Ben. 

I'm as much in the dark as you are about Adele's strange behavior toward Rose. An infant’s mind is almost impossible to fathom, and could the punkin speak well enough to explain her unseemly aversion to one who has shown her nothing but kindness, I doubt if she could make the reason clear. As I say, it is well-nigh impossible to say for sure, but my guess is that the feeling of dislike or fear which is evidenced by her actions, is purely instinctive and has no justification in fact. I fancy she'll outgrow the notion as she gets better acquainted with Rose. It is easy to understand Rose's discomfiture on this account and I feel for her. 

You are wrong about 29 April marking the two-year point in my Army “career.” That happy(?) day will be 2 May. 

Oddly enough, and contrary to your expectations, your Air-mail “longie” of the 19th arrived before your V-mail of the 20th. The guy who first said “wonders will never cease,” knew what he was talking about. 

The paragraph about Adele and the rain (and her impressionistic name for it) tickled my risibilities—which is a fancy way of saying it made me laugh. 

No, Sweet, none of the packages has arrived yet (the Milky Ways were last—and are “all” as Red, would say), but I'm looking forward to getting them almost any day now. While I think of it, I'll tack a request for more candy (bars, if possible) onto the end of this. 

You ask about Red. I think I told you something about him yesterday. He knows a few girls over here, but he doesn't get to see them very often. 

Which just about answers your two V-mails. I'm still looking for those proofs. Maybe tomorrow, huh? 

And now it's way past my bed-time, so I'll say “Good-night, Baby.” I love you so very much! My usual kiss for the cherub. My love to all. 

Always, 

Your Phil

P.S. Please send the candy. 

Post #354 - April 28, 1944 Seymour Went Down to Enlist in the Navy and was Rejected and I am having a Helluva Lot of Fun with this New Hobby of Mine

April 28, 1944

Dearest Phil, 

The mail brought me your “running” letter of April 15-16 and a v-mail from Milt Brown. This was the first word the Browns had had in eight weeks. They also received a v-mail. He wrote it while aboard ship and mentioned that they had passed the International Date Line. There was no date, but I surmised that it was written about Passover, since he also mentioned that they had matzo, wine, etc. aboard ship to celebrate the holiday. 

Your letter(s) require little comment. I had a hunch you’d want Peanut Chews, and I'm glad I guessed right. I tried to get another box today and couldn't. I took the next best thing—a box of Milky Ways such as those I sent you. Ben gave me the box “on the cuff” (I’m flatter ’n flat) and though I have it wrapped (I also have Red’s package ready) I could not find time to get to the post office. Included in Red’s package, which I am addressing to you, are a shirt, some ties and some hats for Red and two booklets of stationery for you that I told you about some time ago. I intend to mail both packages off tomorrow. Those Milky Ways are very heavy, weighing almost five pounds alone. Send along a few more requests, sweet. I'm trying to mail off something every two weeks. I spent the $5 Jack N. sent you, but if you still want it, I'll send it along from my allotment next month. 

I didn't go to see Hal Chase cause there wasn't anyone to stay with Adele. You want to know how Adele evidences her “jealousy”? She cries, looks hurt and acts as if she'd been done wrong. Yep! She's a regular woman! She calls me “EV” sometimes and when asked, who Ev is she says, “momma.” I gave her a ride on a tricycle in the driveway and she didn't want to get off. I wish I could get her one now. They run rather high. I still have the carriage to get and I spent the money I had put aside for it. 

Harry went on the Freihofer payroll today. I don't know what his salary will be as yet. Another item: Seymour went down to enlist in the Navy and was rejected—one leg is a half inch longer than the other. He’s wondering if that will get him a 4-P if he is drafted. He didn't tell the folks about it yet. 

I'm nearly finished with Stuart’s sweater, having just a few inches to do to complete the sleeves. I have to make a dopey cap, too. 

It was warm and sunny today and a welcome change after “the rains came.” I never saw so darn much rain. Thank God that's over! 

Baby, I don't mind keeping our tryst in an easy chair, and I especially don't mind sitting on your lap. Hold me little tighter, will you, honey? It's exactly five o'clock and I will feed Adele very shortly. Close your eyes, dear, and let me kiss your eyelids. And now your lips—sigh - - - -

Your Eve 

28 April 1944 

My Darling, 

Your two V-mails just arrived—but the dates! One was written on 5 April, the other on the 17th! I can understand any discrepancy between Air-mail and V-mail, but this beats me! 

The rather brief note of the 5th told me nothing I haven't known for weeks. The other one, though, contained two new items. (1) Mr. Frommer back home and looking better than ever. My congratulations to him on his quick recovery and my best regards to all the Frommers. (2) The Claire Pruett proofs are in the mail. I'm hoping to see them tomorrow or the next day. It's an aggravating coincidence that those letters I happen to be looking forward to especially—are the ones that are held up the longest. 

There has been remarkably little to report these past few days, Chippie, and I'm more or less at a loss for words. 

“Business” today was practically non-existent, and I was able to work almost uninterruptedly on an isometric drawing of the house, the floor plan of which I completed yesterday. The isometric drawing is all but finished, too, but I don't care too much for the way it looks. I decided to “build” along Modernistic, and therefore severe lines. My materials were to be stone (or brick) and glass brick. The building, except for one abutment, is square, and probably accounts for the unprepossessing appearance when modeled along severe lines. The floor plan is too much to my liking, however, to permit me to abandon it ’cause it don't look like much from the outside. I'm going to try again in a more conventional style exterior. 

I got stuck when I was ready for the roof and asked a couple of the boys with some mechanical drawing experience to help me out. However, aside from starting a lively discussion and putting forth with their ideas on how it should be done (all of which proved wrong), they weren't much good to me. In the end, I stumbled on the solution myself. 

Altogether, Sweet, I am having a helluva lot of fun with this new hobby of mine. Who knows—maybe someday we’ll put one of my plans to better use—? I'd like to have your ideas on the house you would like to live in, Chippie. Think it over. 

That's about all for today, Sweet, so I'll take my leave—after I hold you close, kiss you, oh, so tenderly (but nonetheless thoroughly) and whisper “I adore you” into your ear (the left one). A kiss for Adele. My love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil

 

Post #353 - April 27, 1944 Before I Tell You A Hair-Raising Story About Lil… and We Worked Out a Plan That’s a Honey

 

April 27, 1944

Dear Sweetheart, 

Received the enclosed letter from Mrs. Benis. They sure are having their share of bad luck! 

As I told you in yesterday's letter, I went to visit Lil last night. I also told you that she had purchased a bunny for:Adele. I thought it was a small stuffed bunny. You ought to see the size of it Phil! It's almost the same size as Adele, with an oversized head of white plush, legs and part of the body made of a cadet blue material, finished off with a rose ribbon about the neck. Adele opened her big eyes til they were enormous and adores the "ba" beyond words. She went to sleep with it this evening. A toy of that caliber runs into the $8 figure. I've always wanted her to have one and don't have to tell you how happy it made me feel.

Before I tell you a hair-raising story about Lil (with her consent) I want to give you another bit in of news. Harry quit the Signal Corps today and expects to work for Freihofer's driving a truck on an established bread route: He got a statement of availability (due to the doctor's certificate) which enables him to accept any job, regardless of whether or not it is defense work. He hopes to be able to make about $60 per week, and will, and perhaps make more than that. You know, sweet, it has always been my ambition to have a comfortable income for I hate pinching pennies more than anything in the world. We've been up against it for over three years now and it's hard to sit by and watch everybody else "pile it up.” I'm beginning to think I'd rather have a business before I own a home. I don't want to get filthy rich, I'm happy long as I don't have to count each and every dollar. I have to hand it to Harry, he has nerve and he’ll get some places regardless of his intelligence. Phil, you may not realize it, but I'm the only wife, among all the people I know that has had such a tough time with my allotment. Fay, Anne, and any others in my position have had financial aid besides their allotment. Their folks are working and buy everything they need for their babies. They have their allotments to themselves and I’ll give you one guess as to what they are doing with it—stowing it away—and then some. They buy lovely clothes and go to expensive shows, etc. and though I should like to go along at times, I've got to remember my rigid budget. I don't mind, really, for I have all my dreams wrapped up in you and "our” future, but, it has to be what I'm hoping, or I'll be terribly disillusioned and disappointed. Phil, keep reassuring me, will you? I don't expect to return to work til after the summer, for my grandmother has given my mother some trying days and nights, and I think she is entitled to the summer without burdening her with Adele. I didn't mind the money situation when I was working, but it's kinda tough now. It would be alright if Adele and I didn't need clothes—that uses it up too fast. Just keep reassuring me—I think that will do the trick. 

Lil is in love—yes, really, to a married man almost 45 years of age, who has three grown children and a wife who doesn't give a damn about him. He was left flat once and took her back on account of the kids. He has a dental laboratory and makes lots of money. (He gave Lil $100 for a Xmas present—he asked her want she wanted and she jokingly said $100—so he gave it to her, though, she protested). He has been cheating on his wife since they were married and Lil says she is the first girl he has stuck to for any length of time. Lil says she doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks, but I'm sure she does. She didn't want me to tell the folks and I haven't. She says he has not bothered her sexually yet, but expects he will and she hasn't decided what she'll do. There is a possibility that he may divorce his wife, leaving him free for Lil. Doesn't she get into the predicaments! She says he's the first guy she could see eye to eye with, they have the same tastes and desires, her day is complete if he calls her on the phone. He shows her a good time, is highly intelligent, self-educated, once had his own orchestra. He plays, every instrument and is very musically inclined and definitely not good-looking; too much on the South Philly side. He was married at 19 and his oldest son is 21. He employs an assistant, has an established business and good clientele. His brother knows of Lil and so does his mother. They know it isn't right, but they know his true position. He never takes his wife out. His wife has an excellent position (much to his disgust) and gambles for high stakes. Lil figures if he doesn’t spend it on her he’ll spend it on some other dame, and—she loves him. Says he is the first man she ever really wanted. She's pretty sure he feels the same way. She asked my opinion.

Somehow I don't blame her. Love is love and she isn't hurting anyone, except herself. She knows that, and has decided to take whatever she can get, regardless of the outcome. Marriage isn't any good unless there is love. As I told Lil, I'm sure Phil and I would stick together even if there wasn't such a thing as marriage. Lil envies me terribly, sweet, much as she tries to hide it and I've never let on that I know it. I think this affair is largely responsible for her keeping away from us. I don’t think she intended to tell me, but decided she could trust me. She did another crazy thing last night—she sent me home in a taxi and told me not to tell anyone. Phil, I can't ride on trolleys, buses or the subway for I become dizzy and unbearably ill. It's worse than it's ever been and I mentioned it to Lil very casually. When I was ready to leave, after having some delicious cake and some milk, she suddenly disappeared. She had gone to the cab, as I learned later. I was furious, but call she insisted. She stuffed $2 in my pocket and became angry when I refused to take it. I took it and kept still, at her request. I enjoyed the ride home and it was really worth $1.50. I'm sure Lil won't accept the $2, but I'm going to insist upon her accepting the change. She is so good and I can't help feeling sorry for her at times. She's spasmodic and unbalanced mentally. She's intelligent enough, lacking common sense and the fitness of things so important for her own benefit. She reminds me of Helen at times and I'm inclined to believe that an inferiority complex is the underlying reason. And I think I'm changeable! They have me beat a mile!

Jack and Alice asked about you. Jack told me he has a bet on with someone that the invasion will start May 10th. I wonder if it is that close??????

It rained again—for a change—all day. I had oodles and oodles of sewing to do and finished with everything. I fixed Adele's new overalls and they fit beautifully.

Think I've said enough? No? Neither do I. I must tell you once more how dear and precious you are to me, how I respect and love you, and how I want very much to hold you close to 

Your Eve 

27 April 1944

Dearest Chippie,

It is now the morning of the 28th, but this letter is for the above date. Last night Sgt. Beppler asked me to take his CQ for him. Because I was engrossed in the problem of that plan I was telling you about, I had intended to spend the evening in the Orderly Room (where it's quiet) anyway—so I agreed. Shortly after 8 o'clock, Red came in, and between us we worked out a plan that's a honey. (At least I think so). It wasn’t easy, either, because I had set myself the problem of three bedrooms on the one floor. The completed plan specifies the following: Living room (14 x 19-1/2); Dining room (10 x 13-1/2); Kitchen (10 x 10); Master Bed-room (12 by 18); Second Bed-room (12 x 17); Third Bed-room (12 x 14); Bath-room (9 x 9); Master Bath-room (7-1/2 x 10); Overall dimensions (42 x 43). As the plan stands now, I have the closets (3 x 6) incorporated in the design. As a matter of fact, I even have the furniture installed—no kiddin’! A partial basement will be just big enough to house the heating plant and a garage. Today I'm going to try the side views. The drawing is all smeared up from erasing, repairing, etc. When I make the finished drawing and have it inked, I'll send it along for your comments. Don't be too critical, Chippie, of my first attempt. If you want to get an idea of the difficulties involved, try it yourself. The necessary facts are above.

I was up at 4:30 this morning to wake the K.P.’s. At 6 I awoke the rest of the company. Since then, I cleaned up the Orderly Room, put a few finishing touches on the drawing, and started this. No mail came for me yesterday, so I'm just about “caught up.” Right now I'm waiting to go to lunch, and Lady, am I hungry!

When I said I was caught up, I didn't realize how completely. I can't think of another solitary thing to say. If I receive a letter today, I'll write again. If not, I'll probably let it ride ’til tomorrow.

For the present, however, I can only wish you a fond good day, and rush off to the Mess Hall while there's still something left to eat. A quick kiss from the cherub, a big hug for you, and my love to all.

Hurriedly,

Your Phil

Post #352 - April 26, 1944 I Spent My Last Cent This Month—On Adele and Unfortunately, I Have No Great Curiosity to See the Many Interesting Sites and Landmarks of England

 

April 26, 1944 

Dearest one, 

Your April 20th letter answered my query about food at the new base. I must say—music with your meals—you're getting up in the world! Wouldn't mind joining you, not one little bit. 

I spent my last vent this month on Adele. I had to go to 11th St. and passed a children's store on the way. I noticed a pair of powder blue gabardine overalls on the counter and went right in with the intention of buying them, if they were Adele’s size. They were the only pair of blue she had, and just the right size. There are two sets of sizes—toddlers and regulars. Adele wears the regular size 3 to perfection. Made of lightweight gabardine, nicely tailored in a most attractive shade of powder blue, they are exactly what I had hoped to obtain. What's more, I bought another pair, same style and material, different color—yellow. The blue overalls have deeper blue buttons, while the yellow ones have brown buttons. They were $1.69 a pair. And, she had but one pair of seersucker pajamas in Adele’s size, with two pairs of pants—cost $1.79. The pajamas are pink, tailored, with figures of drum majors and majorettes, drums, horns, and flags sprinkled throughout the material. They even sport all rubber buttons! Short sleeves and v-neck finish the description. My bill was $5.17 and counting the bonnet, I spent exactly $7.17 on Adele this month. I'm in dire need of many more items, such as polo shirts to go with the overalls, a blouse, more pajamas, some playsuits—about $15 ought to do the trick. Kids are so expensive! She’ll look mighty purdy in her new duds and I guess it isn't necessary for me to tell you how much I would like to have you see her in them. I'll try to do the next best thing—snaps. 

I've resorted to v-mail this evening since I have intentions of visiting Lil this evening and want to finish early. She called last night and we pow-wowed for a while. She says she can't understand why we think there is “coolness” in the friendship, but she gave herself away by the simple statement that “Myra is the only one who goes out of her way to see me.” Lil, like many others, can't understand why I can't just pick myself up and take myself wherever I may choose to go. Nor is she willing to understand it. However, I'm not going to quibble with her over that, and I'm going down tonight to sort of iron things out. Even if she is a darn screwball, I do think a lot of her. She mentioned something about having bought a bunny for Adele some months ago and wanting to bring it up when she had the chance. 

I forgot to tell you that I voted yesterday—a primary election to select district candidates. My mother sat at the table doing most of the pencil work and received $10 for the day. 

Adele had me up most of the night again. Ethel and Al dropped in for a short while during the early evening. Ethel's diamond ring is very much like mine. She's thrilled with it. Guess I'll have to call this a letter—with all my love to go along, plus 

Your Eve 

26 April 1944 

Dearest Eve, 

Today was my day “off,” and aside from a few moments during which I tended a few minor details, I didn't go near the Orderly Room. It was a beautiful day, and I suppose that the sensible thing to do would be to hop on my bike and take a long spin through the country, which I have told you is most attractive. Unfortunately I have no great curiosity to see the many interesting sights and landmarks of England. This is best illustrated by the fact of that though I have been to London some 14 or fifteen times and spent a total of some six weeks there, I have still to see such world-renowned shrines and landmarks as Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, London Bridge, the Houses of Parliament, etc. The average person would deplore my lack of interest, and really, I am puzzled by it myself. The average G.I. makes it a point to visit all these places. Anyhow, such is my nature, unfortunately, and it, coupled with the fact that I have no great love for cycling, accounts for the fact that I did not make the excursion as a more sensible fellow might have done. Instead, I slept late (10:30), at which time I was routed out by Sgt. Murphy, ’cause the CO, Lt. Crane, wanted me to appear at HQ for a reclassification interview. It is about a half a mile from here to HQ, so I decided to walk it and get some much-needed exercise. By the time I got back, it was lunchtime. I caught a ride down to the Mess Hall and filled up on pork chops, mashed potatoes, green peas, string beans, lettuce with chocolate (what I almost said!) russian dressing, chocolate cake (twice), and coffee. Not bad, eh? Red is the company tailor (that guy can do anything. The other day he laid a brick walk) and everyone agrees that as a presser he has no peer (ad.) While he worked, I lay on my bunk and talked with him. Eventually, as it's usually the case, we got into the subject of furniture. As you know, he and his dad have a shop of their own and what he doesn't know about, isn't worth knowing. They even build their own frames! I mention this because I have already commissioned him to make that chaise-lounge for you. (When we are all in happier circumstances, of course.) From furniture, we got to discussing houses and building costs, etc. This inspired me to do something which I have had in mind a long time but never got around to—drawing a plan for “our” house. You understand of course, Chippie, that drawing such a plan is mainly a process of trial and error. My first attempt presented errors in plenty. Both Barnhart and Overman pointed out flaws that would have to be ironed out, but this is the sort of thing I can get interested in. Henceforth, I will spend my spare moments at it. If you have any ideas, and I think you have, I'd like to know what they are. After I complete a feasible plan of “our” house, I'm going to try to do the same with a twin-duplex apartment building. That ought to be sumpin’! 

I was busily engaged on the plan when the mail arrived. The lone letter was yours of the 19th April. It is three delightful pages long, and I enjoyed every word. I don't enlarge on it simply because it is the type of declarative writing that requires no comment. 

At 6:30 I hied myself down to the Base Theatre, where a Colonel of S-2 (Intelligence) talked to us for an hour of the rise and fall of the “Luftwaffe.” His talk was most absorbing, mainly because he explained how the RAF and the 8th Air Force between them, have taken the sting from the vaunted German Air Force, which is rapidly becoming less and less capable of effective opposition. He quoted some very revealing statistics, too, which, of course, I am not at liberty to divulge. 

After the talk—a movie. “The Lodger” with Laird Cregor, Merle Oberon, and others, is a thriller of the blood-curdling type. You remember—the kind that led you to close your eyes tightly and hold on to my hand for reassurance. Creepy, suspenseful and macabre as it was, it remained a good picture. Laird Cregor is superb and convincing as “Jack the Ripper.” Merle Oberon, more vivacious than usual, performs two “Frenchy” dance numbers, which are as tantalizing as any I've ever seen on the screen. She does more than reveal a luscious pair of gams. She uses them with devastating effect to tease the male instincts. These shows are supposed to be “morale-builders,” but I'll bet there wasn't a single G.I. in the audience who didn't feel an awful hunger for the woman back home whose charm and allure was poignantly and sharply recalled for the moment to their sensibilities by Miss Oberon, whose allure is merely symbolic of the feminine masses. I am conscious I have said the last few sentences badly—but I think you get the drift. 

If I have made “The Lodger” seem a picture you would want to see—forget it! It's definitely not for your squeamish stomach. 

Back to the hut to listen to the radio a bit—and so to bed. Which probably makes you wonder when I found time for this. The answer is—I didn't. I'm writing this the “next” morning. Never fear, though, Baby. You'll get one for today, too, (even if I have to write it tomorrow morning). 

Right now, I have some “business” to clear up; after which I aim to resume work on the plan. 

Au revoir, my Sweet; a big hug for my daughter, and my love to all. Here's a special kiss for you. That's for the especially tender first paragraphs of your 19 April letter.

Devotedly,

Your Phil

Post #351 - April 25, 1944 We Get a “Free” Day Now Once a Week and A Letter from Frances Benis

 

25 April 1944

My Darling,

V-mail today. Not that I don't have a choice—it's just that a combination of circumstances makes me reluctant to attempt a full-scale letter. You see, I just finished letters to Dot and Gloria, and this, in addition to the fact that there was no letter from you today, made the task of writing a regular letter an unwelcome chore. I trust you understand and condone my action, Chippie. 

I'm afraid I went back on my promise not to write any more “teasing,” or as you would have it—“devilish” letters. I managed to write a nice dignified two-pager to Dot, but I couldn't resist the temptation to tease Gloria. I think that that she is sufficiently acute to take it in the spirit in which it was meant. 

Today was a very busy one for me. I was occupied with one thing or another practically every minute. I'm rather tired this evening as a result. Too tired, even, to think of walking down to the Snack Bar. I think I'll hit the hay as soon as I finish this. Think, too, I'll try to take “off” tomorrow. We get a “free” day now once a week. 

My radio is giving forth right now with “How Sweet You Are,” which happens to be my favorite at the moment. Whoever wrote those lyrics must have felt pretty much about some sweet somebody the way I feel about you, my lovely. Someday I'll take a little “time out” to put “that” feeling into words and music. I think you'd like that, eh, Sweet? My best love to Miss Adele (I never thought I would miss her as much as I do.) Love to all from 

Phil 

April 25, 1944

Dear Evelyn: 

It's been a long time since I've written you, but I get so nervous at times I just can't write. I hope your big daughter is in best of health and the news you get from Phil is good news. 

Our family sure is having their share—do you remember my brother Harry—the blonde curly haired one—he arrived in Italy 1st of February—we have one letter dated Feb. 14th, and he's been missing since Feb. 18th—we haven't given up hope, we just feel he is alive and maybe a prisoner, and my brother, Joe, (the baby) hasn't been heard from for eight weeks‚ so Evelyn, if I haven't written, I am sure I need not say more. 

What's new with you and yours? Don't forget I'm holding you to your promise to come with your daughter for a visit to us. Cy has to be in Wash. D.C. on business sometime in May and he may stop over in Phila.—if so, he'll give you a call. 

Do write me and tell me the news. Perhaps, and I hope so, my next letter will be a happier one. 

With best wishes, 

Frances 

Post #350 - April 23, 24, 1944 The Number of Typewritten Lines that will Fit into a V-Mail Form is 45 and Lil Said She Had a Letter from You in Which You Gave Her Hell

 

23 April 1944

Dear Wifey,

That salutation is by way of being an answer to yours of 12 April (V-mail). Before I go any further, I want to say it was most considerate of you, Baby, to “hasten to inform me” that you finally got around to Claire Pruett for those long-awaited pictures. Sure enough, your letter of the 11th is “late in arriving.” I await the products of your visit to the photographer with the most eager expectancy. I'm also looking for that 11th April letter to tell me whether or not you remembered to order that “miniature” for me. I fear it slipped your memory.

Didn't have space enough in yesterday's V-mail to include a coupla of items I had meant to. First I dropped a V-mail to Lil a few days ago to ask her the reason for her recent coolness. It has been bothering me and I want to know the answer. Second in Eddie's letter of the 18th, received yesterday, he included the newspaper clippings of Mayer Taylor's heroism. No wonder the whole neighborhood is talking! They must be plenty proud of him.

Just finished letters to Harry W. and Gloria. As I pointed out to Harry, there was very little likelihood of our being able to arrange a meeting. Seems the censor won’t allow us to specify where we intend to be at a certain date. Don't ask me why. You can see how this would put a crimp in any such plans I might have. Anyhow, I wrote to tell him that I was aware that he is now in England and to congratulate him on his acquisition of a new nephew and to wish him luck in the coming eventful days which promised to be hectic ones for him.

What's this about the punkins apparent indifference to ice-cream? Can this be my own daughter—my own flesh and blood? I can't understand it!

That letter of Eddies that got home in only three days must have set you to wondering. It did me. That's the fastest mail service I've heard about to date.

I took the trouble (t’ink nuttin’ of it!) to count the number of typewritten lines that would fit into a V-mail form. I think 45. This should save you the trouble of twisting the roller to determine how much space is left. Of course, the fact that this will curb you of the tendency to gyp me out the last few lines has nothing whatever to do with all of this. (Oh—no!)

About that pinafore. Improvement is always “worth the trouble.” All right! So you are not having a fur hat made; but you have not told me so “repeatedly” as I shall someday prove to you—and you don't have to get so huffy about it! Who is SHOUTING? I merely suggested—Gee, Baby, I even miss that.

I especially like your closing paragraph, Sweet. That “always, (all ways)” business is darn cute—and most intriguing (as you no doubt intended it to be). Wish I could think of something equally cute, but I can't, so since I have nothing further to report—I’ll bid you a very fond adieu, and meet you on the bench out front—shortly. My fondest thoughts are for the punkin. My love is for all. I—am for you. I am (this’ll surprise you—)

Your Phil

April 24, 1944

Dearest Darling, 

Your "Iongish" letter of April 18-19 arrived in record time this morning, along with two sparkling letters from Jack N. One was for me, the other for “us". The letter for us contained a five dollar bill which, evidently, was intended for you and since I do not know whether it is safe to send it along in a letter I am holding on to it. If you want it it’s yours for the asking. I'm mailing off Jack's letter, which will explain the five dollars and many other things. I shall try to write to Jack when I finish this. 

So you got 14 letters at one time! Not bad, not bad at all. You did have my curiosity aroused when you said you couldn't write for two days and I realized you would say when you could. Are you nearer or further from London? Will you be able to go to London on pass as previously? Naturally, I would like to know the name of the nearest town to your present base, but, undoubtedly, you would have mentioned it were you able to. Is this a Fighter Base? Is the food better or the same? Apparently the mail comes through more speedily at this new base, for, according to the dates of my letters, the last one was only ten days old. Isn't that pretty good time for my mail?

Do you like my knack for writing as I speak? I don't particularly care for it myself. daddy dea r I love y ou 

(typed by none other than Adele Bara with my aid.

I was trying to write while she played in the pen! She had other ideas. I thought the typewriter might occupy her for a while and decided to have her send you a message all by her little self. 

This letter may not hang together, sweet, as I am going to answer all the questions you posed in your letter. I'm not angry cause you neglected to write the previous night. I doubt if I would with 14 letters from you to keep me occupied. As long as you are happy!

I am a bit surprised to know that you have been thinking about the "Jack, Lenny, Phil" proposition. I think you and Jack are "naturals" for any business, regardless of your individual knowledge of any subject, including photography. Yes, sweet, I think your could offer plenty to the photography line to make such a deal plausible and as you say, "Let's hope it will all happen some day".

Phil, it has been pouring for four days now and I'm infernally sick of rain, rain, rain. I went to Broad St. and 11th St. in the pouring rain, as we had an empty cupboard that had to be filled. I'm telling you this simply because I have no intention of going out into this rain again to mail off Red's things. I have them wrapped and will mail them just as soon as it stops raining. Klein sounds like a regular screw-ball. I don't like his type, though I don't know him well enough to judge fairly. I was amazed to learn that he is but 19 years of age! He doesn't look it. 

The "shoe buying spree" occurs every three months. I'm sorry if I don't make myself sufficiently clear at times, dear, but, invariably, I am interrupted and loose my train of thought. You, on the other hand, didn't make yourself clear about the fur hat. How in hell am I supposed to know that you want me to own two hats and what's the sense (when I need so many other things besides hats?

Thought I’d continue writing—I'm tired of typing. Phil, I know we think differently about “furnishing a house,” and I disagree with you on one point. You say that if we “ought to have them someday, then we need them.” I don't think we'll need them someday—we need those things now. I wouldn't call them all-time needs either, except when replacements were needed. How can I think your way when all we have to our credit is a bedroom and living room suite? (New pen point). You may be satisfied with someone else's belongings, but I'm not and never will be. I'd prefer to have you think my way, and then, maybe, we'll get some place. It will have to be “everything new and modern for the next one”—I won't have it any other way. (What in tarnation is wrong with this pen now!) 

Here is that “snap” I told you about. I knew it was called an “ouija” board, but have seen it “weegie” and thought it to be the American way. I guess I am getting absent-minded, sweet—forgetting to sign my letters. I did that very thing last night remembering it as I lay down to sleep. That, however, is the first time I recall doing it. Your next sentence, “if God forbid, she's ever hurt badly, I would find it very hard to forgive you,” rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't like that sentence nor the thought behind it. What do you think I am—“superwoman”? You know I've always done my best! 

There isn’t much else to answer or comment on—so I'll talk about Adele. This evening, just before Adele’s bedtime, Betty, Lou, Natalie, Sarah Petey, Adele, and I gathered on Betty's porch. “Nana” began to sing, “It's Love, Love, Love”— whereupon Adele chimed in “la, la, la.” She watches Natalie's, every motion and copies each and every one. She clapped her hands, stamped her feet, hugged herself, repeated whatever words she could to copy, as closely as possible, the actions of Natalie. She begs “Nanna” to dance with her and they did “ring around a rosie.” Adele wants to sit down after the first line, not caring to wait for the “one, two, three.”

April 25, 1944

Literally fell asleep writing and thought I’d continue today. Adele cried last night and I didn't get much rest. I arose early this morning and did all my housework by 10:45 A. M. at which time I dressed and went out with Adele. Anne had called earlier and asked me to go to Broad St. with her. Thank God - it has finally stopped raining, but the weatherman predicts more (darn it!); it remains cloudy in the meantime, with the sun stealing through every so often. As we passed the children's store on Broad 

St. I saw a lovely pique bonnet and decided to get Adele one. Her's is made of a white pique eyelet material with a white lining and a large, deep powder blue ruffle trimming a stiff portion of the white material to make the polk. It cost $2. She looks lovely in it and I’ll try to have a snap made in the near future. I'm going to use that white wool Dot bought for me for a plain white sweater for Adele with smocking of blue. The sweater I have in mind will have a yoke and a waist band something like my red sweater. Both yoke and band will have the blue smocking. I can't seem to get a pair of overalls (gabardine) in Adele's size. Dot, on the other hand, can't get that underwear with the snap-on panties. So I'm looking for underwear for her and she is looking for overalls for Adele. I thought I'd get a pair of blue overalls to finish off the outfit. I expect to get Adele, a pair of jodphurs, for they seem to be the "rage" with young children. They take the place of overalls and give good wear.

I had a letter from Eddie today, short and nothing new.

Our garage man hasn't paid for three months and no longer desires to rent the garage. I hope we can rent it to someone else, but garages are plentiful and we may not be so lucky. 

Harry has made up his mind to quit working for the Signal Corps. He says there isn't enough money to be made there, and he can't get along on $33 per. His salary is really $41, but deductions make it so low. He is seriously considering taking a gas station something like Al’s. Al, by the way, also bought Ethel an "engagement" ring for $600, besides the wedding band he bought her recently. 

 

Lil called while I was out. Said she had a letter from you in which you gave her hell and promised to see us in the near future. You didn't tell me you had written to her.

Guess I’ll have to call this a letter as I'm just about, "writ" out. I still got plenty of love in me and I'd like to give out with it. Look out! Here comes your

Eve

24 April 1944

Dearest Darling,

Came back from the Finance Office just now to find your sweet, but rebellious, letter of 11 April on my desk. There were allso a letter from Dottie, and a V-mail from Gloria (the first section of the two of 10 April). In yesterday's letter, I intimated that I was looking forward to yours of the 11th. Little did I know that it would be important for a reason other than the details of the visit to Claire Pruett. That was a pretty stiff price he asked for four pictures, but it remains to be seen whether or not the money was well-spent. I think I pointed out in a previous letter that a good picture is priceless. Let us hope that these will be in that category.

I know you too well, Chippie, to think for a moment that any mere words of mine could deter you from going ahead with any project you are convinced is worthwhile. So all the while I was planning my arguments against your announced intention of going back to work, I had a premonition that I might just as well spare myself the effort. I was even tempted to dismiss your query with the curt “do as you please about it,” knowing as I did that you would anyhow, but I also know what you expected of me; namely, a lengthy exposition of my views and feelings in the matter. It is my privilege and joy to anticipate that which you wish, and do my utmost to gratify your every desire, however subtly evidenced—thus my ardent pleas for a cause which, all the time, I well knew, was a lost one. To further demonstrate the completeness of my understanding of you, my darling, permit me at this time to say what I know you expect me to say, or rather, what I know you would want me to say: I have fully acquainted you with my opinions in the matter. Further, nothing you have said has changed them in any way. But, since you feel as you do, and I would be the veriest fool not to concede your right to your viewpoint, I can only say—good luck, darling, and may it all turn out as you expect and hope, rather than the way I fear. I pray my arguments were all without basis in fact. Go to it, Sweet and my best wishes for your success and welfare go with you.

Incidentally, Chippie, I couldn't help but remark the general excellence of your letter. I refer to the composition of it, your forms of expression, and most especially, a few phrases that far surpassed any former conception I ever had of your literary competency. Where, for instance, did you pick up “teeter,” as applied to “morale.” More remarkable—“a young girl can stale from frequent sacrifice”—if I didn't know you were above it, I would say you copied it from something out of a book. My guess is that you read it someplace and your mind retained it 'cause you thought it applied to you. How close am I?

You needn’t fear, Baby, that I'll be “mad” at you for “disagreeing” with me. I'm not that narrow. I won't deny that I regret we can't see eye to eye on this thing, but I am fully aware that you may just as easily be in the right as I. Under the circumstances, it would be silly of me to feel any rancor because we are at odds. Only time will tell whether or not I had any justification for my qualms. As I have already stated, I pray I haven't.

Thanks sweetheart for telling me where you place me at 5 o'clock. Now that I know where you have me, I'll make it a point to be there, and I promise to give as good as I receive—if’n you know what I mean. By the way, would it embarrass you to know that I seldom am content with just the kissing? If it does, just slap me down—I might (just possibly)—desist the next time. Reminds me of one of your erstwhile pet expressions—“I can dream—can't I?”

Things are still pretty dull in this sector of the ETO, so you’ll forgive me if I don't enlarge on what transpires at this end of our correspondence. I decided to write (when I noticed it this afternoon) about the sign on the road leading to our area. It reads:

Entering Powder River

Please Drive Carefully

We love our children!

I'm missing you very much tonight my lovely and before I break down and tell you exactly how much, thereby inducing that unwelcome sense of frustration in us both—I'll sign off—with my dearest love to a grand girl, my wife and her adorable daughter—from me

Your adoring Phil

P.S. Love to all.