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..
Eleven days without mail! I know, Phil, but Jesus, Phil! I wonder how many more days it will be before I do receive something?
In the meantime, I had the enclosed letters from Jack N. and managed to get a long letter off to him this afternoon, in reply.
Enclosed, too, are the snaps Petey took on May 14 and May 21. Doesn't Adele look cute with the Britisher's cap on? I don't particularly care for the snaps of me alone -too much sun - makes me look too glary (is that a word?)
I also had letters from Syd and Jack S. to round out the day.
I did quite a bit around the house today. It was very warm all day so I had Adele out in just a pinafore - an orchid one with orchid socks to match. Adele made friends with an elderly (no, middle age) couple that live directly opposite us in the back. Mr. and Mrs. Katz always look for her. They own 36 houses, and he is retired, living on the income from them. He has a lovely car and since Adele is crazy about "cahs" she made every effort to get into their good graces. Mr. Katz lets her sit in the car, plays the radio for her and amuses her generally. His wife said, "I could give him everything but kids!” He rides her around the block occasionally. Adele won't let me out of her sight for so much as a second, even to go for a ride around the block.
Our youngster is exactly one year and a half today. Gettin' old, isn't she, Honey? I have a hunch she be closer to three before I see you again. That brings us out to next summer. Yes, dear, I do think I'll see you next summer.
And now, if’n you don't mind, baby, I'll sign off with oodles of love and a billion . kisses before I go "off" again and start asking a lot of questions. I love you so much, baby!
Your Eve
P. S. I think Jack N.'s letter speaks for itself. I wouldn't mind living in Denver, would you? I told Jack it's okay with me if it's okay with you.
I didn’t write yesterday. I wanted to, but somehow could not find words that did not form a question. Today is exactly ten days that I haven't received mail - so I won't go any further.
I have quite a bit to tell you in the way of news. First - Seymour enlisted in the Navy yesterday and this time was accepted. He leaves June 10. Ed left for the Army last year on June 9. Sy was most anxious to get into the Navy and finally got his wish. My mom is bearing up well, though I believe she is taking it harder than she leads us to suspect. Sy's salary was a big help and with all bonuses he received it sometimes ran into the $50 figure. He always turned most of it over to my mom, which enabled her to buy 4920. I'll say like you do, "Perhaps it's all for the best."
Secondly - Betty is moving next month. She had all she could stand from this house and I don't blame her in the least. Adele and I will miss them terribly, but they aren't moving far, in fact, they are just moving down the block to 4942 (next door to Taylor). However, they helped me considerably and were always here to sort of keep us company and while we will be able to see them frequently it will never be as it is now. They got a real lucky break. Then house is one of two that has a brick back porch and a full pantry. (Remember those two-houses further down the block with the backs built out?) An old couple want to join their children in New York and are giving them the house for $60 per month. The rent is high, but the house is worth it. It is modernized and has been well kept. They are very happy about the whole thing, and I don't blame them - I would be too.
Yesterday was a full one for me and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I’ve begun a new practice with it Adele. I make her nap before lunch (from 11 to 1) so that I may take her up to bed earlier in the evening. Phil, (God bless her) she's such an active kid and so strong-minded that she wears me to a frazzle before the day is over. I can't wait til I get her to bed in the evening so that I may relax my weary bones.
When I put her to bed yesterday I took the bus to Germantown to pay a bill for my dad. On my way back I met Ruth Anapolsky, who gave me quite a bit of news. Hilda's Dave is coming home, after 20 months overseas. I wonder if they'll marry now? I promised to stop over later in the afternoon, after attending Natalie's birthday party with Adele.
Adele awoke at one, had lunch and was ready for the party. She wore pink from head to toe and looked very party-like. She had a pink flower in her hair to top off the ensemble, which was strictly feminine. I gave her the gift for Natalie. She marched right up to Natalie, and handed it to her and then became fascinated with the many children attending. She played games with them and even got so interested at times that she sat still to look. When it came time to eat I tied her in a chair and sat her at the table. She helped herself to a pretzel, had ice-cream, Pepsi and birthday cake, after trying to help blow out the candles. Betty invited Goldie and me in for lunch, and it was a delicious repast of salads, pickles, tomatoes, lettuce and the usual, accompanying foods. I was famished and had three helpings of most every thing - no less. I even surprised myself!
I walked over to Ruth's shortly afterward and spent an hour there. Adele was very restless and in "sissed" almost every five minutes. That is she said she wanted to and never did. Then she "wet" herself whereupon I got disgusted and took her home. She had her dinner, made a big scene cause she didn't want to go to bed (a licking followed), had a bath and fell asleep immediately after.
In the evening Mom went to the movies with Mrs., Feldman to see "A Guy Named Joe". Later Betty asked me to accompany her, Lou, Sarah and Petey to a movie. I was fairly tired and it was raining and I couldn't decide. In the end I relented and went to Germantown once more to the Colonial movie to see "Broadway Rhythm", with Ginny Simms, G. Murphy. It was in technicolor and was lovely to look at, but that was all. The dancing and singing didn't seem to come up to par. I got back at 12 and hit the sack-like a ton of bricks. Adele woke at 5:30 and I had to get up. I made breakfast cleaned our room, took a walk with her, put her in the playpen til I washed and set my hair, gave her some milk and pie, and put her to bed.
I was so exhausted I fell fast asleep two seconds after I lay down. I awoke before she did, prepared lunch and practically ate mine before she awoke.
When she finished Sarah took her for a short walk and Petey made two snaps of her. I dressed in a pair of one-piece shorts and skirt that give a dress-like appearance of deep pink with zig-zag lines of green, royal and navy blue running through it that Betty gave me last summer. Flora's mother complimented me on my figure - imagine! The material of the outfit is very clingy and does show up everything???? Even Mom asked me if I were wearing anything underneath , to make me look so nice. I always look nice (don't I, dearest???) !
I interrupted this long enough to receive two visitors Hilda Zaslow and Shirley Anopolsky. Hilda is as happy as a lark and expects to be married when he gets back. Jennie is engaged to Dave's younger brother, who is stationed nearby. Hilda says she thinks Jen is waiting for her to get married first. I guess they'll both marry in the very near future,
Gee, baby, I've got a terrific urge to see you! Guess I'd better sign off before I go “off" again. I love you, Phil, I adore you, I could eat you - (sigh).
Lovingly,
Your Eve
May 28, 1944
My Darling,
The second mail-less day, so I'm reduced to V-mail again (and double spaced at that). Just finished a real “longie” to Dottie by way of repayment for her own “longie” that I received yesterday.
Nothing of any importance transpired today - just the regular humdrum routine. I didn't even go to the movies - “Lucky Jordan” isn't the type of picture I care to see twice. However, I figure I made pretty good use of the last evening in getting off that letter to Dot. Think I'll turn in early tonight. Here of late I've been plagued by attacks of homesickness. I find they occur when I remain uninterrupted in the evenings.
It was just about this time last year that I got to see you a few days each week. I remember thinking then that I would someday look back to those balmy spring evenings, when I was so impatient to get to you that I had to curb the impulse to run from Broad Street. I was so happy then, Baby, in spite of the anxiety of imminent departure for an overseas destination that spoiled the completeness of my contentment. I knew then that I must make the most of the time I was still to have with you - and I did, didn't We? That last goodbye, although we didn't know it for such at the time, will always be clear in my memory, as will all of those nights - they were so beautiful!
But never fear darling, here will be many, many more such nights and they will be the more precious for having had to wait so long for them. They will be infinitely better for all the lonely ones we are now in the process of getting through as best we can. One day there will be an end to our loneliness. “Da” again be an actuality - the happiest circumstances that I am capable of imagining. Until the, be secure in the everlasting love of
Your Phil
28 May 1944
Sweetheart,
To begin with, I must apologize for neglecting to write yesterday. What is worse, I have no justifiable excuse for it. The plain truth is - I just wasn't in a writing mood. Think you can forgive me on such flimsy grounds? If you will, Chippie, I'll make it up to you here and now - what say? Tonight I am CQ again and I have nothing to do but write, so I mean to take advantage of the opportunity.
These past two days have been most uneventful, so if I don't say anything about what I have been doing, you will understand why. The "marquee" of the "Thunderbolt Theater" tonight reads as follows: "Adventures in Iraq"
John Loder
A Stinkeroo
So I don't feel that I'm missing anything in that direction. It is a beautiful evening. All the doors and windows of the Orderly Room are wide open to the warm sun and the occasional breeze, The view from here isn't too good, being impeded by a clump of trees and underbrush, but off to the rear, the cultivated fields of the adjoining farms lie green and lazy in the late afternoon sun, The eye follows them to the far horizon, interrupted only by an occasional tree, or by small groups of trees like little islands in a green sea. Wild red poppies grow aimlessly. The vivid daubs of scarlet are startling in the sharpness of the contrast to the preponderance of the all encompassing green of the fields. (One moment, Sweet, while I get one for you).
They are very fragile, I find, and I don't suppose the petals will hold their original color for long, but I'll see what they look like a little later, and if they haven't wilted too badly, I'll send them along.
Your letter of the 16th-17th arrived yesterday, and that of the 18th, today. The former contained the snapshots Fay gave you. I liked both of them. The first, sitting on the steps, for the cheeriness of your smile, the glimpse of one round knee, (trust me not to overlook that!), the eager curiosity of the punkin's expression (she looks like she's about to say something), and last but not least - the welcome view of the houses in the background, which serve to remind me that they are really as attractive as I remembered them. The other picture (of much poorer quality) unfortunately blurs your features, but affords a good idea of your very attractive new sport-coat. I like too, your jaunty, yet graceful posture in this one. The punkin, if you recall was very much interested in something across the street (or was she just showing off her "dopey" hat to the best advantage?) Fay looks heavier than I remember her. Her son is looking down, deeply immersed in something directly in front of him. Whoever took this picture evidently didn't give a damn about getting the babies in good poses, The "snaps" are very much appreciated, Honey, and now that summer and nice weather is here, I shall expect to see many, many more of the same. You aren't going to disappoint me, are you?
In your letter of the 16th, Chippie, you again see fit to remind me that I "committed (myself) to fatherhood, wife, home, etc., etc.)" I don't know whether or not you realize how often you have reiterated this very same statement to me, but I do know it's a source of irritation to me that you consider it necessary to do so. Don't you suppose I know what my responsibilities are? I don't, in spite of what you seem to think, chafe under the burden of those responsibilities - hell, I glory in them, which all makes it annoying as hell (to put it bluntly) to be nagged about it, A word to the wise, Chippie - - -. As for the little discussion you instigated with that remark about the $60 a week, I can't, for the life of me, see that my opinions on the subject were given any thought whatever - at least you entirely overlook the issue to offer a new set of opinions of your own, which, while they are plausible and even logical in themselves, don't, by a long sight, tend to approve or disprove anything I said. Either you are incapable of putting your true thoughts on the matter in writing, or you are tactfully trying to conclude our differences on this score. I'm inclined to think it's a little of each. I agree that the sensible thing to do is to forget the whole thing until we can talk about it. I have the feeling that we don't completely understand each other's viewpoints on this point, and writing about it only tends to confuse the issue. I feel as you do, Sweet, that we will, when the time comes, see eye-to-eye on this and any other question that may be a temporary source of controversy between us. After all is said and done - the ultimate truth is: we both want the same things of life, and since our hopes aren't built on too high a plane, we have every right to expect that, in time, we will realize them. Please, Baby, try to curb your inclinations to belittle my ambition, and my sense of responsibility. You may have every justification for believing so, but it is too soon to say for certain that I am lacking in either. I ask only that you grant me the benefit of the doubt, until you have ample justification for so believing. When you imply that I am lacking in these "virtues" I am just proud enough to feel the need to defend myself. I dislike, intensely, being pushed and prodded by anyone (even you, darling) in the direction I should (to anyone's notion) be taking. Be good enough to allow me to judge for myself, and to choose for myself, the "right direction,” and trust me to make every effort to attain my "goal" (and it shall never be as limited as $60 per week) in whichever undertaking I may see fit to pursue, I trust I have made myself very plain, Sweet, and I promise you that if you respect my feelings in all the respects I have set forth, we will have no further “misunderstandings” to contend with. 0.K? 'Nuff said?
I am delighted to read in your letter of the 18th that you are as highly pleased with the C.P. pictures as I said you would be. I love to say 'I told you so, s O O o - - I'll say, ''I told you so!" I figure it'll be a month yet before I get to see them, since you have included them in a package, but at least it's something to look forward to. No, darling, I hadn't noticed the cleft in your chin, but I'll be sure to look for it.
Your complete understanding of Adele and her various foibles and whimsies, as evidenced in your most entertaining account of her doings, both tickles and amazes me. If she expects to fool you in any respect, she'll soon change her mind when she attains a fuller appreciation of whom she is dealing with. Now if I were home - Well, I’d "wise her up" - make her understand that her Mommy is not a person either to trifle with, or to attempt to delude with any hope of even limited success. One particular sentence here especially intrigues me. Remember how I was curious to know how she displayed jealousy? Well, this time you tell me how she acts when she is "shocked" (and I begin to understand why everyone thinks she is so cute), but now I'm puzzled again. Just what could there possibly be that could inspire that typically adult emotion in my infant? Or are you guilty of a misnomer, and use "shocked", when "amazed" or "awed" would more appropriately describe what she feels?
I never cared for ankle-strap shoes (if they're what I think they are), but if you like them, then get them, 'cause I won't be around to be annoyed by them anyhow. Aren't they the type that have the strap running from the top and the back of the shoe? If they are, you may be amused by the reason for my prejudice against them. Some years back, I noticed that type of shoe on some very low characters around the town. Since then, the very sight of them reminds me of a harlot. Once, when Jeanette bought a pair, she asked how I liked them. She was very much surprised, to put it mildly, when I told her of my intense dislike for them, and the reason. If you'll take the trouble to look, you will find she is wearing them in some of the snapshots we took, You probably think I'm very silly and too impressionable, but you wanted my opinion. Well, Chippie mine, "you've had it"!
I'm waiting to hear the details of the New Yorkers' visit. I'm especially interested in Sammy's condition, and how he impressed you.
Your last paragraph was a "killer", Baby, and I'm going right to bed and dream about all those divertisements you suggested. Your thought on how we could turn the punkin's proclivities for interrupting your sleep to our own advantage, is most intriguing. What I wouldn't give to give it a try along those lines!!!
‘Bye now, Baby. I adore everything about you - especially the memories. Give my love to the punkin. My love to all.
Eight mailless days! Gosh, honey, I can't help feeling uneasy. It's been a long time since I had so many consecutive mailless days.
Last night was an interesting one. Betty has a nephew who is stationed in California and married recently. The girl is a Californian and had never met his folks. They had a large wedding and had the entire procedure recorded. He managed to get a two weeks furlough and last night he brought his wife over to Betty's along with the recordings. I managed to borrow a phonograph player from one of the neighbors and we listened to the recordings.
I accomplished quite a bit around the house today. I also had a large wash and even washed my cherry colored quilted robe. I never thought of washing the robe, but Betty washes hers often and it washes beautifully, so I decided to try. I washed the belt first, to make sure the colors wouldn't fade, and finding it didn't, I went ahead. It had a lot of spots that wouldn't come out when I gave it to the tailor, but the washing took them all out. I also cleaned my closet and gave several of my summer dresses to the cleaners.
Adele simply wouldn't fall asleep at napping time this afternoon, so I let her stay up all day long. Consequently, she was ready for bed earlier than usual. Uncle Sam and Pauline dropped in (with Barbara and Phyllis) after having taken Cookie to North Philly station. Cookie is going to visit Morty in Missouri for three weeks and is traveling pullman back and forth as at a cost of $400. Not bad, eh? Barbara and Phyllis are cuter than ever, especially Phyllis. Adele hugged and kissed them and played with them like a regular little lady. They ran after one another and had a grand time. Barbara said, “Gosh, Ev, she's such a big girl now!” Adele called Uncle, “Pop.”
Tomorrow is Natalie’s 10th birthday and I bought her a sheer cotton dress for $3. Betty is having the kids from the neighborhood in for candies, cake and ice cream, after which she will send them all to the movies. I'm going to let Adele give Natalie the package to see what will happen.
Mickey Brown was able to get home for a few hours last night. Undoubtedly, he is at Camp Kilmer.
I'm so impatient for mail from you that I can scarcely contain myself and feel terribly let-down after the big Mother's Day surprise, as I was looking forward to the letter you wrote that day, I should have known better. Every time I look for mail, I disappointed. What the devil is wrong with the mail service???? Darling, I miss you so keenly - well - tomorrow is another day. What else can I say? Yes, dear, I hadn't forgotten - how could I? I adore you, my own, so very very much. If only I could gather you close to your ever lovin’
Still no word from you and today is exactly one week since my last letter from you. I can't understand such a long delay. Could it be that you've moved once again? I've been looking forward to the letter you wrote on Mother's Day (and I'm sure you wrote that day) and since your mail is usually only five days old - well -
I did have some mail - a v-mail from Milt and a nice long letter from Fay. Milt said he thought the training in the States was tough, but the islands had it beat to hell. He was in a black mood when he wrote the v-mail, saying the food was lousy, no cigarettes, and no cool drinks. He said the hot sun knocks him for a loop. Fay, on the other hand, raved about the setup. She has all the conveniences necessary for a baby, and sees Morris every night and all day Sat. and Sun. She sounds as happy as a lark and I think she did the right thing when she joined him. She's in Columbia, SC.
I worked seven and a half hours for Miss Han today, getting my usual ride down with Mr. Frommer and son. I promised to go there again next Thursday. Today, by the way, is my folks 23rd anniversary.
We also received an APO card with Max Brown's name on it - a New York post office. Wonder where he'll wind up?
I just happened to think - last night was the first night I'd been to the Broad movies since we went there together, almost ten months ago. It doesn't seem like ten months - it seems like ten years and more.
Goldie tells me that her stepmother wrote you a letter, which you probably received by this time. Stuart Chase is okay once more, for which fact Ethel is mighty grateful. My brother Eddie didn't send my mother anything for Mother's Day and he had me wondering. However, the other day she received a letter stating that he had sent her a pin and was sending her a large picture of himself.
As I said yesterday, I owe you a long letter, but honestly, sweets, I just can't get down to some earnest writing and hope you'll understand. I promise to write a real longie just as soon as I hear from you.
Guess I'll have to repeat something I've been telling you since the day I met you (some five odd years ago) - that I love and adore you only and always will. I'm in one of those daydreaming moods, thinking of what I’d do to you were you close by, the things we used to do and how happy we were doing them and how happy we will be someday, loving, laughing and living once again, this time with a daughter, or perhaps someone else (?) sharing our love and happiness. Darling, when, oh when will you return to your loving
Eve?
25 May 1944
Dearest Darling,
Just received a nice long letter from Dot, but not from you. This afternoon I managed to get off a V-mail to Gloria. I also sent a letter to S & D.
There was a USO show at the Base Theater this evening. It was titled “Going to Town.” The M.C. was Tiny Day, and though he's a fair entertainer, his act fell flat because we had seen him at our last base. The surrounding show was only fair, consisting of a gal from Staten Island who did an acrobatic dance; a gal from London who sang a few songs—not too well; a gal magician from Berkeley, Calif., who gave out with a lot of outdated tricks; a comedian who just didn't click; and three acrobatic young men who did unbelievable things with their bodies, and proved to be the only real success of the evening.
Last night I saw “Government Girl” with Olivia De Haviland, Anne Shirley, and Sonny Tufts. It was a fairly good comedy and would have been much better if it weren't for the almost insufferable overacting of Olivia De Haviland (of all people!). I don't know what got into her, but she was so unlike the old Olivia, that I could hardly believe my eyes. When she tries to be “cute,” she only succeeds in giving the impression of being a big, overgrown, baby. In the climactic scene, she tries too hard to be impressive, and the odor of ham pervades everything. It is downright sickening. The supporting players are wonderful in comparison. Sonny Tufts, the male lead, is a big, blonde hulk—but “cute” as his first name.
You probably have the impression, Sweet, that I spend most of my time gadding about from one show to another—and I'll admit, it certainly sounds like it, but the truth is, those few hours in the theater each day is just about the only thing worth writing about. Moreover, the opportunity to get away from oneself via this medium is a blessing that I, for one, will never stop appreciating.
The daily grind continues to be just that—the same things happen in the same way at the same time. Is it any wonder the only “different” things I can find to write about are the different shows that come to the base?
Tomorrow, Alan Ladd in “Lucky Jordan,” is the feature. I've seen this one (with you, I think), and I'm hoping tomorrow will bring lots of mail from you, Chippie, so I'll have something to do in the evening. I think it's high time I wrote you a nice long letter, anyway.
For the time being, though, I'm at a loss for more to say—except I love you dearly— that is an omnipresent fact. Just as constant and pressing, is my ever-growing desire to hold my baby—just looking at her likeness leaves me strangely uncomforted. Good-night for now, my darlings. My love to all.
This is the sixth day I failed to receive mail from you, sweet. Considering that I have all your mail up to May 13th, I can't complain, but I would like to hear from you soon. I did have a nice v-mail from brother Jack. I finally managed to mail off the package, which contains: box of peanut chews, carton of Bond cookies, and the pictures. I'm awfully sorry about the delay.
Dearest, I interrupted this long enough to catch my second movie this month. I went with Goldie to the Broad to see “In Our Time” with I. Lupino now and P. Henreid. It was a powerful picture and made me relive our parting once again. I enjoyed it immensely. I believe you saw it.
Harry went out to West Philly this evening and chanced to meet up with Mike Nerenberg. Mike is stationed at the Frankford Arsenal, having been in a bus accident at Fort Dix that broke both his legs. He gave Harry his address and wants me to contact him. I'll give him your address so that he may write to you. From the address I gather he has an apartment and Harry said he has a child. I’ll call him some time this week.
I accomplished much in the way of cleaning and general housework today. I try to keep the house looking neat and clean, as much as my ability will permit. I think I should have said “strength.” Well, both. It was cloudy most of the day and I didn't take Adele out til late afternoon. It hadn't cleared up then, but she insisted on going “bye-bye.” She runs to the buffet where I keep her bonnet and sweater, drags them out and says, “bye-bye,” meaning, “Mommy, please take me out!”
Betty has a colored girl in each Wednesday and her name is Dorothy. We asked Adele to say Dorothy (“Dah-tee”) and she didn't stop saying it all day. After getting her to say Betty and Dahtee, we quickly suggested “Goldie.” She was about to say it, stopped, mused and then said “Dodo.” A short while later we pulled the same trick and she said Goldie very clearly.
After finishing my daily stint to you last night, I decided to knit for a short while before hitting the hay. I did about an inch of the front of Adele's white sweater-to-be. I don't have much ambition for knitting lately and I have to be in the mood.
I know I owe you a long letter, baby, but, honestly, I find it hard to write at all when I fail to receive mail for such a long time. I don't have to tell you, my dearest, how your letters keep me going. I love you so very much, Phil! I wonder if you’ll be angry with me for cutting this short. Sweetheart, I can think of only one thing at the moment - that I want you - so much.
Your Eve
24 May 1944
My Darling,
Your Mother's Day” letter of 14 May just arrived, together with a letter from Gloria in which were enclosed four snapshots of Jack and a very nice letter from Mr. Silver.
As tickled as you were with the flowers, Sweet, I believe I was even more so when I learned that they and the Cable-grams had arrived on Mother's Day. Naturally, I am highly gratified that you as well as both Moms were so pleased with the remembrances. My only wish is that on the same day next year, I will be in a position to present you all with gifts personally.
Glad to hear that Petey took a few more “snaps” of you, Baby, especially since you remembered this time to get your delectable gams into the picture. I wait most eagerly to see if they are as lovely as I remember them. I know you are from C. P.’s proofs.
Keep trying, Honey, to discourage the tendency to left-handedness and the punkin. I wouldn't pay any attention to it in a boy, but I don't like it for a girl.
I don't know if you have seen the snapshots of Jack, but I think he looks very fit. It certainly was good to see the kid’s features again, and I was reminded how much I have missed him without even realizing it.
There isn't much doing in this neck of the woods—that is, as far as I personally am concerned. I guess you know the 8th Air Force as a whole has been far from idle here of late! Tell me, Chippie, do you read anything of our activities in the hometown papers?
Today has been pretty dull for me. This morning I had very little to do, but this afternoon I was called down to the Finance Office to transcribe the pay-roll—and guess what! For the first time since I've been in the Army, I turned out a perfect pay-roll! By that, I mean there wasn't a single mistake in typography, spelling, composition, and a hundred other things that might have been wrong. Not even a strike-out or an erasure marred the perfection of it. It’s an almost accepted fact among Army clerks that the pay-roll without a flaw was never made and never would be. I came to subscribe to that superstition because of all the pay-rolls I have ever seen, and I've seen many, this is the first one that was adjudged perfect by the Finance Dept. If something of the sort happened to me in civilian life, I'd be sorely tempted to hit the boss for a raise on the strength of it, but even though it brings no monetary reward, I feel justly proud of this “freak” accomplishment. I say “freak” ’cause the odds are—it’ll never happen again. (Do I hear you muttering “much ado about nothing?”) I can understand that—after all, it doesn't kill any Germans, does it? But a job well done (however insignificant in the general scheme of things) is rightly a source of satisfaction—so just disregard or try to understand my unseemly enthusiasm. (At least it almost filled the page.)
Sorry, there's nothing of greater moment to relate, Baby, so I'll just take my leave for the nonce—with the promise that I'll be back tomorrow with more edifying news. All my love, Baby. A kiss for Adele—and best love to all from
Your Phil
May 24th, 1944
Dear Evelyn,
You're a stinker. Why didn't you write? The least you can do is answer my letter. What letter, did you say? Don't give me that stuff. It would have been returned, hadn't you received it. Wait a minute, now. I'm sure I wrote to you,---- or did I? Cheez! Come to think of it, I didn't!
Honestly though, kid, I can't write to you till I know that I can write as you deserve to be written to. I have to have at least 45 minutes of clear time. Sometimes of course I get off a “shorty” as you term it, but all the more indication that you haunt my conscience as an unanswered correspondent, more so than the many I write briefly to, or at length without the “shorty” in between, but with a far longer interim.
I don't have your last letter or Phil’s at hand, but one thing stands out so brightly that I thought of it warmingly many times. The suggestion of yours to Phil that we, and Lenny, become three way partners after the war. With all my heart, I wish for such a reality. Here's something else to think about. Sometime, when I see you again, I shall convince you that Denver is the swellest place in the world for such an enterprise, and the most wonderful place of all these United States to begin life anew after the war. Those whom I love and want close to me shall come along or follow. The same for those dear to you and Phil.
Now, of course, details would be foolishness. But mind, only the best argument in the world could convince me differently. Suffice it to say, now that Denver is God's favorite land else never would He have made it the beauty it is nor given it the right climate for healthfulness. People here grow old so beautifully that you can't help but notice how erect and sparkling they look as you casually encounter them.
What's the new score with all of you?
As for me, I'm going along smoothly. I'm not really a soldier, but my conscience is clear. I tried, but my hearing has put me in the class of non combatants. My luck has been such that I enjoy privileges beyond the scope of G.I. imagination because I am fortunate enough to be recognized by an important person as an essential cog in the photography department of the Engineer Board. This important person, the major that runs the board, treats me as though I were his son. Thus far, he hasn't gotten me a rating, but he has tried every conceivable angle and is still working on it. I have become more fully aware of how fortunate I am, and thus have learned to be patient and closer to being contented with my army lot. I am so much so that it hardly phases me that (because the major had me transferred to a company that just returned from Kiska and will stay here for a good time to come) I didn't move to Virginia with my former company. Though Va. is so much closer to home, it's so much hotter than cool summer Colorado. Besides, I'd never gets so swell a job, with so little of being bossed around. Beside the last besides, I couldn't go to Denver every weekend from Va.
My new outfit is O.K. The boys, after hardship in Kiska, are now, as the officers, easygoing and lax in army regulations. So neither do I get up for reveille nor stand retreat nor come in before 6:00 A.M. on a night pass, nor make my shoes gleam, nor make a quarter bounce on the bed I make up, nor etc. Everyone in the outfit has a Class A Pass, a rarity to gape about in a combat outfit.
If it isn't clear to you how come I’m in another combat outfit, let me explain. Headquarters of 2nd Army in Tennessee, despite my hearing, will only allow transfer in the unit. (different outfits, but all 15th Special Troops, 2nd Army) not to Army Service Forces.
Now, my major has gotten after Medics here to force them to release me by proving to 2nd Army that a soldier going into battle with a 37% loss of hearing, especially at night, is committing suicide. So, that's the score—I'm waiting patiently.
Ev, I'm enclosing a letter I started to write to Phil. Would you please send him this one plus that one? He really owes me a letter. I can hardly say more of an informative nature to him than I've told you. But I can use the time I shall save by avoiding duplication. Excuse, Phil old boy.
My love to you all.
As ever, Jackie
This was started 1 day after receiving your letter Phil, but never resumed.
Dear Phil,
It was indeed a pleasure to have received so prompt a reply to my last, less one in between. I got a great kick out of hearing that even the censor commended your literary style, and it makes me happy to know that my letters are a source of enjoyment to you.
Your description of your Passover was awe inspiring to say the least and that episode of nearmiss was really a lulu. I can easily understand how 1944's First Seder night shall make for itself a permanent memory nitch in your mind.
Phil, old boy, I'm doodling, rather my mind is, so I wonder if you’ll excuse me. My damned watch, I just learned, has tired fifty minutes worth. The time is correctly 10:30 P.M. At 4:30 A.M., I must awaken to catch a bus to Denver on a two day pass. Hence, concentration is futile, except for one more thing. You have instilled my mind, by your writing, with a sort of bounden duty, to transmit to my pen a something or other to close letters with. Here tis.
I'll get it right this time “ditto”
May 24th, 1944
Anyway, I sure got a laugh seeing a two, or three tops, year old kid dragging his pants over to the urinal to stand between three sailors in the men’s room of a Denver theater. The kid’s old man was “other ending” in the enclosure nearby.
Sorry I must resort to v-mail again, but I find myself with little to say and hence find it wiser to use this form. I feel much better today and I'm inclined to believe it was my period that caused the ill-feelings. Believe it or not, I'm finished and it isn't quite three days. That is unusual for me, as you well know and can well be the cause of my feeling so ill. It is and has been terribly hot all day long. I hate this kind of weather and I hate the washed out feeling that usually accompanies it. Oh well - such is life!
Adele is becoming fresher day by day. She picks up her hand to slap at the slightest provocation or remark or action by anyone, including myself. I had to interrupt this after the first paragraph to go upstairs and rock and sing her to sleep. The heat has her too and she started to cry, being unable to fall asleep. I give her a lot of cool tea with lemon and she has learned to call it “tee-tee”. Every so often she comes out with a word, doesn't know what she is saying, or does know and forgets. Today, for instance, she came out with the word “hichair” as clear as a bell. She couldn't repeat it when asked. That's how they learn to talk. She’ll soon be able to use two or more words and perhaps small sentences. I gave her two baths today, one in the afternoon before her nap and one this evening. I'm going to give myself a good rubdown and a cool shower before I hit the hay. I'm very perspired and uncomfortable.
I didn't get the opportunity, sweet, to mail off the package and promise to do so tomorrow without fail. Do you want me to get more chewing gum or chiclets? I don't know if I can get chewing gum, but I think I can get chiclets.
I had a nice v-mail from Milt and he has been very thoughtful. He writes to me whenever he gets the opportunity, even if he doesn't get mail from me. I must try to write to him more often.
My mother washed for me again today, thereby saving me a big job. She also washed our summer quilt (the one Lil gave us) and it washed beautifully. I thought I'd get to see “Song of Russia” with R. Taylor at the Lindley this evening - but no go. Mom went to see it with Mrs. Feldman. I'll try to catch it when it comes to the Broad. It's almost three weeks since I've been to a movie, and I'd rather like to see a good one when I do go. There hasn't been much of any account playing around lately.
You have it chum - to use the English way - sorry, though, that you can't have me personally. But I hope that day isn't far off - the day of reunion when we’ll have each other to have and to hold and to love! I adore you, my darling Phil, and want very much to whisper it in your ear. Now, if you'll just come a little closer, - closer - closer - ah, that's better. I love you, and if you don't mind a bit of demonstration this hot night, here's a big hug and a couple of million kisses from
Your Eve
23 May 1944
Ev, my darling,
Just returned from London this afternoon. The train I was supposed to come back on was cancelled and I had to wait ’til the next one. Result: I reported two-and-a-half hours late. But since it wasn't something that could have been foreseen, nothing was done about it.
The train to London yesterday was so crowded that I had to stand all the way. However, I had a great view of the country we were passing through and I hardly minded the tedium of standing. It (the country) was really lovely, Sweet, and I wished a thousand times you might be there to see it. Spring, in all its heartening evidences of new life, made itself felt in the very air. Each flower and shrub was dressed in its “Sunday best.”
Once arrived in London, and more specifically, Leicester Square, I strolled about to see what pictures were showing. The first one that caught my eye was ”See Here, Private Hargrove!” with Robert Walker (yeah, I know he's Jennifer Jones’ husband, and she has two kids, and she's suing for divorce etc., etc.), Donna Reed, Keenan Wynn, and others. Well, Chippie, I enjoyed this one—very much. Robert Walker, whatever else he may be, is a most gifted and personable young actor. He is Private Hargrove—to a “T”! Donna Reed is lovelier than I have ever seen her. (At times, she is downright eatable.) Keenan Wynn, though, does everything but walk away with the show. He is Pvt. Hargrove's finagling buddy, and his characterization is both convincing and amusing. The plot is a very unimportant factor in this, and no one is apt to complain for the lack of it. The dialogue is “real” and sparkling, the direction flawless—and the cast makes it all entirely worth-while.
After a late snack at the Eagle Club, I repaired to the ever-lovin’ Turkish Baths—of course! For the second time in so many visits, I played guide “ex-officio” to three Yanks who were new to the place and didn't know their way around. In the process, I managed to steam myself like a lobster. If you were aware of an outside influence at “date time,” pay it no mind—it was only the masseur, who was intimately occupied with my body at the time.
This morning, waking at eight o’clock, I rose immediately—meaning to get to the station early to get a seat on the train. After a hasty breakfast at the Eagle, I wasted no time getting there—only to find the ten o'clock train had been canceled (as were many others). The next train to where I wanted to go was the 11:10. It was now only 9:30, and already the queue for the 11:10 was forming! There was nothing for it, but to “sweat it out.” I got mighty tired standing—I can tell you! Finally, when the mob was let through the gates, I made a dash for the train and managed, by sheer luck, to spot a last seat in a compartment that was already all but full. The trip back was delightful. First, because the bright May sun over the landscape enhanced the beauty of the prospect. Second, because in the seat opposite, a woman was holding a most adorable baby—a little girl of about two-and-a-half years—blonde and blue eye, and cute.
I could hardly pull my eyes away from her. The mother looked at me oddly from time to time and—no wonder—you remember my distressing habit of “staring holes” in anything that attracts me. She must have thought I was nuts! Of course, I couldn't help conjecturing what my own punkin will look like at that age—and if I will have the rare privilege of holding her and fondling her about that time. You can bet I was missing her very much all the way of the journey, and envied the mother of that little girl the feeling of the baby in her arms. How I longed for my own sweet punkin—and how empty where my arms for the need of her! So big grew the “lump,” and so high did it climb in my throat, that I was forced to tear my eyes and my thoughts from the baby across the aisle—to find solace in the peace of calm green vistas.
There was no real mail yesterday, but today I received your letters of 11th and 12th May and Jack N’s letters, which you forwarded.
Your concern with Harry’s criticism of your action in allowing that most kind sailor to give you and the punkin a lift is, in a word, unwarranted. Harry would do well to consider his own inconsistent ethics before presuming to criticize anyone else’s! If he really wants to know what I think of the whole business—here it is: In the first place, no man is so depraved that he will seek to take advantage of a woman with a baby and tow. Anyone who would think for a moment that the sailor offered you a lift under the circumstances with an ulterior motive in mind Is an out and out fool. As a matter-of-fact, under the circumstances, it would have been most unkind and unfeeling of you to refuse his offer because of any inherent distrust of strangers, or an instinctive impugning of unworthy intentions. Truth to tell, Chippie, I wish I knew where to get touch with that considerate sailor—I'd like to thank him.
I'm proud to know that Ethel “loved” the sweater you made for Stuart, and it was nice of her to gift Adele with that pinafore. But I don't get your point in drawing the pinafore in invisible ink. You wrote “it looks something like this,”—and then there's a blank space! Really, Baby, sometimes I just can't fathom you!
It certainly was swell of Fay and Morris to take Mom to Ethel’s and to bring you all home again. You may tender them my most heartfelt thanks for the kindness they have shown my dear ones.
The fact that you put on a few pounds, Chippie, certainly comes under the heading of good news. I most certainly would like to see you gain some more weight.
Don't jump at conclusions, Baby,—just because I don't tell you that I won at cards doesn't necessarily mean that I lost. It just means that I see no point in mentioning winnings that might very easily disappear at the very next “session.” It just so happens that I won about $20.00 on that particular night you mention—so there now!
Since nothing in your letter of the 12th calls for comment, and because it is just about “date time,”—and, therefore, bedtime, I’ll sign off now with all my love to my adorable Chippies, and to Mom, and to Harry and Goldie, and to all the Pallers. Tell Harry that I hold no brief with him—every man has a right to his own convictions— and I’d be the last one in the world to let our differences in this respect influence the brotherly affection I feel for him. The days of dislike and distrust and, yes, I'll admit it—disgust I felt for him are far, far in the past. He has proved himself to be a conscientious husband and son and brother, and I admire him for it, because I know, better than anyone, what he had to go through to attain that stature. God bless you all.
Yours, ever-lovingly,
Phil
May 23, 1944
Dearest Phil, h
Here I am again via v-mail. The weather made a decided change today from hot to cool. Since it was Gimbel Day and Sarah was spending the day in town, I decided to meet her when Adele napped and try to get myself a dress and sports shoes. Adele, by the way, was a model child today. She ate well, asked to “go” every time, didn't get into too much trouble and added many new words to her fast growing vocabulary. She now calls Betty “Betty” and says the word “hot” distinctly. She enunciates perfectly and even the “t” in hot is very clear. When I placed her in her bath last night, she said “Hot!” (The water was just a bit too warm). She pronounces “light” minus the “l”. She's inclined to be neat. I took her into Mrs. Frommer's this morning and a carpet was slightly messed. She bent to straighten it and even straightened the fringe properly. She was pulling the chairs in the dining room about and when I asked her what she did to the chairs she promptly replaced each one. All of which means less work for mother and which pleases me no end.
As I was saying, I put Adele to sleep at one and skipped into town. I met Sarah at exactly one-thirty at the shopped about. I almost bought a dress that had been reduced from $17 to $8. It was a pea green and brown paisley, very plain but very nice. The print was hard on the eyes and it made me hesitate, so much so that I decided against buying. We tried almost every shoe store on Chestnut St. and I couldn't get a nice pair of sport shoes. I wound up buying a pair of stockings, just so I wouldn't have to go home without a package. I did see one thing I would have loved to buy—a pair of earrings—$8. They were oblongs of aqua with small gold leaves and very, very pretty. If they still have them after I get my next check, I might splurge and buy them. I need so many other things that I can't see the sense to buying earrings right now.
I was back at 3:45. Adele awoke at three, Mom dressed her, Harry put her in the playpen and that's where she was when I walked in. She was so glad to see me! And especially with “Ar-ah”! She didn't know what to say! I finished my work early this morning, and honey, I'm ashamed to say that I did not mail off the packages as I promised. Tomorrow, come what may, I must go to Broad St. and the package will be on its way to you.
I had a letter from Eddie today with a picture enclosed. It's the same size as yours. He looks positively handsome and I could hardly believe it was he. I owe him a letter, which I hope to get off this evening. Last night, after mailing your letter, I managed to squeeze in a letter to Milt Brown.
Adele awoke many times during the night due to the heat. It's a good thing I napped with her yesterday or I would be “duped” this evening. Did you hear her call you?— she yelled “Daddy” all morning long! I keep telling her that Mommy loves Daddy and I kiss your picture to sort of make it clearer. Oh baby, how I would like to kiss you! Mommy loves Daddy so much!
