Post #427 - July 31, 1944 Ruth Looks Grand, Getting Better Looking All the Time and A Letter from Jack Nerenberg

 

July 31, 1944

Dearest Phil,

It is twenty minutes to six and I have completed all my work, giving me ample time to get a letter off to you, even if it does have to be a "shortie".

I am very tired again today, as I was up with Adele all night long. I sure will be glad when those teeth come through! Shortly after posting my letter to you I showered and went to bed. As soon as I became comfortable I heard a familiar voice - Ruth had just blown into town and will be here for a few days. Naturally, I slipped into a housecoat and came down to see her. Phil, she looks grand, getting better looking all the time, as well as thinner. She brought Adele a huge stuffed blue and white doll that must have set her back at least $7. She also brought a box of chocolate covered salt water taffies. We chatted a while and then I just couldn't keep my eyes open, so up I went - to rock Adele and keep her from crying. She was annoyed all night long and I was exhausted carrying her about. I simply let her cry herself to sleep when I became too tired. She did sleep for a few minutes or possibly a half hour at a time, which is better than nothing at all - I guess.

Today Goldie and Harry had a nice letter from my brother Eddie and I had a letter from Seymour. Sy is getting commando amphibious training and somehow I don't like it. From his descriptions it isn't a safe branch at all - God, what luck the Pallers have!

Ruth was supposed to take my mom back with her but my mom isn't going, not, however, at the moment. I do have every intention of taking a week's vacation, regardless of whether I have to stay home or not. So far my mom plans to go down the shore on Aug. 28th, which undoubtedly, will be the week I'll take off.

Mom received your Jewish letter, and, as per usual, cried herself silly. She asked me to tell you to forgive her for not writing, that "you know how it is" and that she'll get around to it eventually.

I love you dear.

Eve




July 31, 1944 

Dear Phil, 

There I was panning the dust after sweeping the darkroom floor, when Marilyn entered after I said, “Come in” in answer to her knock. As I looked up at her from my stooped position, my eyes must have shown in reflection of all the sweetness that was embodied in the figure that stood above me. For what then, could have made her scoop me up into her arms to be half crushed in the most endearing hug this lucky person has ever had the pleasure of being principle to. 

Phil, I've now tasted of spiritual love in even the manner that belittles your description or anyone's feeble attempts to put it into words. I thought I should like to try describing it to you, but the tantamount heights of supreme bliss Evelyn has made you partner to is explanation enough. 

Our feelings, that only true love can inspire, are so mutual, that it still astounds us to realize how easily one can describe the others emotions by the simple expedient of mirroring his own. Yet Phil, I have braced myself for the possibility of not marrying her due to the circumstance that eventuates of our difference in religion. She is a Baptist. 

The thrill encountered when hand in hand we walked down the aisle to seat ourselves at Jewish services can never be measured. She has asked me to teach her to read in Hebrew. 

Of course, the Sunday morning following that Friday night found me at her Services in acceptance of the arrangement I had proposed. It was a little difficult, I’ll admit. But never never as difficult as it would be for both of us in a future Yom Kippur or Christmas wistfully passed by without our having been to a synagogue and a church. 

After the first time, the second (we’ve only come upon two weekends thusly) was easier. We both looked forward to having a sweetheart seated anext at one another’s services. 

Yesterday, Sunday, alone together we summited by ’31 Chevy, a mountain road that rises at least three thousand feet in six miles. I then made an attempt at the impossible, that of capturing on color film, the soul inspiring beauty that too few mortals are privileged to behold, which confronted us in a panorama of brilliance that can form only from mountaintops, trees, grass, sunlit clouds, shaded trees, and the presence of your loved one. Yes, we did then kiss. Then as we lay on the grass, and eyes skyward marveled at nature's ability to dissolve and compose fleecy clouds at will, we were at peace on this earth. The fleet wind broke the spell, but not harshly, for as Marilyn lifted her head to be silhouetted against the sky, the very same wind patterned her hair in a fashion that heartwarmingly made real every love song ever written. 

Then as the clouds became tinged with the dusky colors that a westering sun imparts, and the mountain ridges took for themselves the highlights which so shortly before they shared with the trees, we knew that day was waning. However, there was yet to be a fitting close to these just past hours of loveliness. As we seated ourselves in the car and my arms cradled Marilyn, our eyes met and she said to me, “I wish I could have known your Mom.” The perceptive lump in my throat which was evoked then caused her to say the words that endeared her to me even more, (if that is possible.) “Go ahead, Jack, cry if you want to.” Then, as I wiped away the tears, her “I love you all the more for it” made it seem impossible that such as we should not wed. I think it is impossible that we won't. 

I don't quite remember at what phase of the day we discussed the problem, but her solution is so simple it is astounding. We would expose our children to the teachings of the Baptist and the Hebrew. When they feel a definite leaning towards either, if they do, then they can embrace it only. Their way will be acceptable to us unconditionally for haven’t we accepted the same in the final analysis. 

Today, at my request to Lenny, Marilyn received a letter from him. It will ever cause me to be thankful to him, it was that beautiful in its tone of acceptance of her to be loved by us all. 

Tomorrow, or tomorrow to come, Marilyn's folks will accept me. My prayers cannot go unheeded. 

Wish me luck, as you accept my wishes for a happy homecoming and my love for all of your loved ones. 

As ever, 

Your pal, 

Jackie

Post #426 - July 30, 1944 Adele is Progressing at a Rapid Speed with Speech and Actions and A Poem from Philip

 

July 30, 1944 

Dearest Sweetheart,

I'm not in much of a letter writing mood, but since I did not write since Friday, I'd better write now whether I want to or not. I'm very, very tired, feeling that way since yesterday.

To begin with, the girl was supposed to come in yesterday to clean and didn't show up. Mom and I had let everything go, thinking the girl would do all, so we both worked ourselves silly yesterday, trying to get this place orderly. I was so exhausted by evening that I was in bed at 9 P.M., which is extra special early for me anymore.

Today my mom washed and I hung some of the clothes. Besides that I had pressing and a few other little things to do.

Goldie still feels very weak and the Doc thinks she may have a bit of gall bladder trouble. At any rate she just can't seem to manage, so - o - o Harry got her a nurse for this coming week, starting today. The nurse is from the Father Divine Assoc. and her name is BABY LOVEWELL. She's a nice woman and is getting a nice salary, no less than $45 for six days, 12 hours per day, from 7 A.M. to 7 P. M. which leaves Goldie without a single blessed thing to do, as the nurse does every single thing, for both baby and mother. Goldie and Harry called her folks to advise them that she wasn't doing so good and they all came arunning today, which kept us all going in an effort to get things done. Besides all this, Adele isn't feeling too good, and I think those long-awaited teeth are about to make their appearance. She has a bad nose and eye cold (which accompanies each tooth cutting) and is generally cranky. In fact it is past 9:30 and I just this minute put her up to sleep, being occupied with her from 6:30 this morning til now, except for a two-hour break this afternoon. Honey, I am tired!

I'm happy though, to report that Adele is progressing at a rapid speed with speech and actions. For instance, we repeat little ditties to her, such as ''Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool, yes sir, yes sir, three bags full, etc. Well, sweet, our little girl says, "Baa, baa, black seep", followed by "yes, sir, yes sir, and then boy" (cause one of the bags of wool is for the little boy who lives in the lane. That means Adele can say seven words in succession, which ain't hay. She's a bit of alright!

Oh yes, dear, I did forget to mention that I received your letters of July 22, 23 and 24 on Sat. morning, and I'm right up to date on my mail from you. None of them required any comment, but I can say that the lack of mail, I'm sure, was due to the fact that I had been writing more air-mail of late.

I brought home fifty letters (of the form I sent you) to type at home, so that I could catch up on my list for this month. He asked me to take it home if I wanted to make the extra money and do it in my leisure??? time. I'm going to charge him with 3 hours of work for it.

I ordered an ensemble set from Goldie's folks. They get all those things wholesale and the set I ordered, which is on the order of Goldie’s cost $10 retail and only $4 wholesale. We had made up an order of nighties and an ensemble to give Gloria on her 24th birthday, Aug. 26th, and I decided that I would like to have one too. I haven't had the opportunity to get myself that dress I want, but I will, honey, I will! I’m literally asleep on the typewriter, so I'll write more tomorrow, when I hope to be wider awake (what screwy English!) I LOVE YOU, BABY. 

Your Eve

P. S. Lena was over Sat. and gave me enclosed snap. Adele calls her “Eena”—more tomorrow.—Evvie



30 July 1944

My Sweet,

My brain is numb
My pen is dumb
And I have nothing to say
Like an empty slate
I'm desolate
—No letter came today


The sunshine shone
I answered the phone
Even as yesterday
But my mind is blank
As an empty tank
—There was no letter today

But dry your tears
My pretty dears
At this unhappy delay
For sure as you’re born!
As the sun greets the morn
—A letter will come some day!

Until then—I am, as ever
Your loving Phil

Post #425 - July 29, 1944 Mickey Brown is So Far Away, that I Couldn’t Possibly Meet Him Even If We Both Traveled to the Half-Way Point (Birmingham)

 

29 July 1944 

Ev, dearest,

Not much doing today. I received letters from Mickey Brown and Jack Nerenberg, but none of yours. I've spent most of the afternoon answering Jack's breezy 10-pages. Believe me, sweet, Jack is one soldier (civilian in uniform would be a truer appellation), who is really having a time for himself in the Army.

His only boss is the Major he works for, and though both companies he was assigned to have moved out, as has 90% of the entire camp, the Major has pulled strings to keep Jack with him. What's more, he has his own jeep to ride about the camp in, gets two and three-day passes for the asking, makes some money (you'd be surprised at the amount) doing photography for the various officers and men, and has a helluva good time generally. He's still crazy about the country out there, and I've half-promised that we would be out to look it over, once I am back in civvies. I also asked him to give me some more details on the prospects for business there, to sound out Lenny on the idea of the partnership, what kind of an investment it would require, etc., etc.

Mickey Brown's reply was prompt, but, unfortunately, unsatisfactory. He is so far away, that I couldn't possibly meet him even if we both traveled to the half way point (Birmingham), as he suggested. I couldn't possibly make it on a 24-hour pass, and for the time being, that's the best I can get. I haven't advised him of all this yet, but will as soon as I finish this.

There was no mail on the 27th either, Sweet, else I would have written again in the evening. Instead, I went to the base movie to see "Going My Way". I liked it very much, even as you did. The story was human, heart-warming; the direction perfect—I thought it was beautifully paced. That is, each scene was exploited to the full, the action moving exactly as in real life, a phenomenon not often encountered even in the best productions. The tendency is always to speed up the action. That is why the "pacing" (I don't know a better term for it) was so noticeable. The acting was consistent with the general excellence of the picture, Barry Fitzgerald, of course, walks away with the honors in this department. His fine, sensitive portrayal of Father Fitzgibbon is a masterpiece of sympathetic acting. Bing Crosby, of course, is always good. His knack of acting as if there weren't a camera within a hundred miles is one which some of our so-called "better” actors would do well to emulate. His personality is so distinctive, that no matter what role he plays, he is still the same old Bing. I remember, Chippie, that when you wrote about this picture, you mentioned Rise Stevens, but you entirely overlooked the more interesting female, June Heather. I thought her a real cutie. Her devastatingly “wicked" smile particularly impressed me. Finally, I must say something about that wonderfully tender (and beautifully underplayed) closing scene, when Father Fitzgibbon is re-united with his old mother. Bet that's the scene that made you “spill over.” It did me.

As I said before, Chippie, nothing much happened today. I put in the usual day in the Orderly Room, read about a hundred pages of Franklin P. Adams' "Innocent Merriment,” which is an anthology of light verse (humorous), took a short nap, rode to the Snack Bar for a snack of peanut butter sandwiches and coffee, and finally, settled down to write this, my daily stint. There is still some time before “lights out” and since I have nothing else to say, I thought you might like one of the verses I've been reading:

Song

William Congreve 

Pious Selinda goes to prayers, 

If I but ask a favour;
And yet the tender fool's in tears, 

When she believes I’ll leave her. 

Would I were free from this restraint,
Or else had hope to win her! 

Would she could make of me a saint,
Or I of her a sinner!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Cute—no? Anyway, I like it.

Good night, my darling. My dearest love to you and Adele. My love to all.

Ever, 

Your adoring Phil

Post #424 - July 27, 28, 1944 The Only Home We Know Here is a Foxhole and Educational Opportunities Will Be Offered Only to the Youngsters (Under 25)

 

July 27, 1944.

Dearest Phil,

I started to write this on the 27th, but here it is the 28th and I’m just getting started. Reason: I got into a sort of debate with Lil on the phone last night that took up most of the evening. It was too late to start a letter then and I wasn't in the mood.

Well, I was right about Eddie. These are some sentences from a letter he wrote to Jack, "The only home we know here is a foxhole - I've been through some big battles but I'm still in there pitching - I hope I make it back someday". Somehow I’ve managed to keep my mind free of war, regardless of how bad the news may have been, but now It sort of makes me sick to my stomach to get it direct. I think I'd do better if I didn't write some of my feelings, then only one of us will be in a bad way. Not that I'm "off" but it has gotten me down a bit.

Yesterday I received your nice short letter of July 22nd, which made you only five days away from me. Mr. Bellet received word yesterday that his oldest son had moved from England to France and he is non-combatant. I wonder if you'll be moving out now??? It seems they are slowly, but surely, moving into France. I feel pretty good where you are concerned, honey. By the way, I understand that it's just possible that Milt Brown is seeing action. He wrote the family not to expect any mail from him for a while and I, myself, have not had mail for several weeks, after having received from one to two letters per week from him. You also asked about Yale and I do have some news about him. Yale and Shirley have been in Oklahoma since their furlough and it seems that Yale was supposed to be shipped to China. However, he requested a medical examination to determine his fitness and is in the hospital at present. I doubt if he will be considered fit, or so Etta thinks. Goldie and Harry had a letter from Eddie today and he seems to be fine. Goldie feels much better now that she has stopped nursing and is "drying up".

Today was payday, but all of it is going for gifts. I must get Paul something for his birthday, which is tomorrow, and something for Fay’s kid, who will be a year old on the 30th, plus a gift for Esther's kid, whom I promised a gift some time ago. I hear that Esther may join George in the near future with the baby. Anne expected Tony to come in from POE and he said he would, but here it is a week and he hasn't showed up. Guess he couldn't make it after all. She knows he was in N.J. as he sent some pictures that bore a N.J. stamp.

By the time this reaches you, sweet, we'll have been separated for the eternally long time of one solid year. God, how much longer will we have to wait! Adele says two very cute things, "blessu" for bless you and "oh, boy!", drawing out the “oh” and making it sound very cute. Miss Hahn has asked me whether I would join the Blue Cross, she listing me as her employee and I think I shall join if I can convert the policy to cover you and Adele some day. Guess that just leaves me room enough to tell you once more that I love you dearly, sweet Phil, and that I miss you so very much.

Your Eve

28 July 1944

Darling Evvie,


Yesterday afternoon I received your letter of 17 July in answer to my “17-pager of 9-10 July.” In it, you said that my letter of 9-10 "was the kind of letter I like to receive from you." I repeat that sentiment in regard to your own letter of the 17th—in spades! You said many things that were brimful of love and longing. You talked about the places you would like to go to, and the things you would like to do the first few weeks after I come home, and painted such pretty pictures in my mind that I was lost in nostalgia the rest of the evening. So much so that although I was CQ last night, and had both the time and opportunity to write reams and reams, I could only lay on the bunk and dream—(and what dreams!). Your desire to stay once again in Room 1777, Hotel New Yorker to “re-live our never-to-be- forgotten honeymoon" (as you so happily phrased it) couldn't possibly be one whit stronger than my own yen to do just that. It is my one immediate ambition. Your suggestion about staying at a camp or mountain-resort to “indulge in sports" is well-meant, I know, but somehow it doesn't appeal to me. That would imply “mixing” with a crowd, and that I definitely would not like. I want you all to myself, with no distractions. A quiet, secluded cabin in the country or mountains would be just the thing, I think. It occurred to me that we might combine business with pleasure by making the trip to Denver, Colorado. We could "do" New York the first week, and then come back home, pick up the punkin, and head for the wide open spaces. If we have a car then, we'll go that way in easy stages. I’d prefer it, because we'd be able to map an itinerary whereby we could visit our friends in Columbus, and a few of my buddies whose homes lay on our route. However, if the car is out of the question, the trip via one of the new "super deluxe" trains wouldn't be too hard to take, either. What do you think of the idea, Sweet?

Seems I was laboring under a delusion in regard to the G.I. Bill of Rights! You're right, of course. Educational opportunities will be offered only to the youngsters (under 25). Too bad, but I'll find a way - you'll see! Even if I don't attain a school of journalism, that isn’t going to discourage me. I'll write—regardless—as long as I have a thought to commit to paper, and even if I know my efforts are ultimately destined for the waste-paper basket. You want to know if I think there is any possibility of getting schooling in journalism after the war. Of course, the training is always to be had—for a price, but as far as getting it gratis (thru the good offices of the government) goes, I don't think so.

I note that you “urged" Mom to go to Brown's Mills. Evidently, you thought that Goldie could manage alone, else you wouldn't have “urged" her to go. I'm sure I can rely on your good judgment in the matter, Baby, but, frankly, the same questions I put in yesterday's letter are still unexplained.

I'm waiting to hear more about Uncle Sam’s new “patent.” I never thought he was gifted that way.

What on earth is Phil doing in the Medical Corps, of all places!?


That certainly was a tough break cousin Meyer got. Of course I remember him!

I suppose I should sympathize with you, Sweet, when you write so pensively about “wanting” me—and I do—but at the same time my male ego glories in the fact—I'm not hypocrite enough deny it. Besides, it serves you right! After all—consider what the lack of you does to me. —Reminds me of that line you used to quote. "It's heaven and it's hell and it's swell." —Was a time when I couldn't figure where the “hell" came into it—but I'm learning—I’m learning—

Glad to know that your accumulation of war bonds is reaching a substantial figure, Chippie. If you have anything to say about it, and I fancy you will have, we'll be rich yet.

Finally got off a letter to Ed late yesterday afternoon. Hope it gets to him, ’cause I'm not sure whether or not his address has changed. I think not, though.

Sorry must conclude this now, Chippie, but Sgt. Murphy tells me he has a mess of work for me—and you know how sergeants are—one must humor them. So long for now, my sweet. Tell me more about what we’re going to do some day—I love it! I love you, too—or did you know that? Tell the lass about “choo-choos", and make it plain to her that daddy and mommy will be taking her for a ride on one some day soon. A kiss for Adele from her loving “da-dee,” none other than

Your Phil

Post #423 - July 26, 1944 Mom Came Home This Morning as Harry Asked Her to Come Home and There’s Always the Good Ole American Jive to Make Me Homesick

 

July 26, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart, 

Mom came home this morning as Harry asked her to come home. Seems as though caring for a baby and feeding her hubby is entirely too much for Goldie. Certainly is a different picture than the one where we had to go to Columbus. I'm afraid I shall never forget it much as I want to, I'm sure I'll feel lots better toward all members of the Strongin Clan once I can have my very own home—privately.

I had a nice v-mail from Jack S. today and will reply in kind this evening. I managed to get off letters to both Sy and Ed last night. Adele simply would not go to sleep and I had to bring her down again as she cried til she was red in the face and exhausted. She never did go to sleep til ten, so you can imagine how late it was when I finished with my correspondence.

There is something in the way of excitement—there was a terrible fire at 2nd & Market Sts. which had the whole neighborhood black with smoke. I wore my yellow piqué dress and it was spotted with little black dots from the dirt. Two firemen were injured when the fire broke out in all its fury. At least seven buildings were burned. We all waited a half hour watching til the smoke made the entire scene fade—you couldn’t even see a hand in front of you.

By the way I acquired a pair of dubonnet loafers (sport shoes) much like those you pointed out to me in that clipping I sent you of my high heeled shoes from I. Miller) which belong to Ruth. I got caught in a rainstorm last week and had to change at my mom's. She gave me the shoes and l’ve kept them since. Ruth always wanted to sell them so I’ll pay her for them when she gets back from the shore.

The people who bought the house next door are going to town on it—venetian blinds all over (cost $118 for the porch alone) archways and whatnots. It’s going to be really lovely when they are finished.

By the way, I mailed off that package of 5th Avenue bars on Tues.

That finishes me off for tonight, baby, if I'm to get off any other letters tonight. Need I add that I love you and that that love grows ever stronger with the passing days. I also love the title of

Your Eve

26 July 1944 

Darling Chippie,

Hardly know where to start this evening. Outside of the fact that the weather was uncommonly nice, and that I spent most of the evening at the dance at the Aero club, it was the typically routine day. Even to the extent that there was no mail whatever from anyone.

After work, I bathed, shaved, dressed, and rode down to the club, where I had a snack, listened to the radio, and read some old American comics that were lying about. When the dancing started, I went into the “Snack Room,” which I have told you is pretty large, and also serves as the dance hall. The dancers were the usual crowd of girls that show up each week, and the same clique of G.I.s that are usually in attendance. I believe I've told you about the girls before, but I think I neglected to mention the one great difference between them and our own American girls. This struck me as I watched tonight. The English girls (remember that I am referring only to those t have observed, which is a very small proportion of the total) seem, in the main, to lack the poise, grace and intelligence of their American counterparts. They are comparatively clumsy dancers. So much so that the G.I.s, dancing or walking, are the more graceful of the two sexes. The girls, too, are rather young, the majority being in their early teens, and are a pretty common lot (if’n you know what I mean—!) of the thirty or forty girls that usually attend, I have still to see one that could justly be called pretty. Occasionally, the eye lingers a moment on a face or figure that is a little better than the ordinary run, or a good pair of legs may hold some attraction, but on the whole they aren't the type we would look twice at in the States. So it is, Chippie, that while the G.I. band makes with music that makes you wanta dance, the gals somehow spoil my appetite for it. However, I do enjoy watching the fun, and there's always the good ole American jive to make me homesick, and to make me miss my one and only dancing partner very, very much.

A 11 o'clock sharp, the band played the "Star Spangled Banner" then "God Save the King, and the dance was finished. The last light of day was dying, a balmy summer breeze blowing, as I rode slowly back to the company area. I rode slowly because it was such a beautiful evening, and because many tender memories of you were crowding my mind. Memories that came and went, and left a great longing with their going.

The guys in the hut have been waiting patiently for me to finish this and put out the lights. I don't want to keep them any longer. Good-night, sweet Chippie. I love you so very much—A loving kiss from me,

your adoring husband,
Phil

26 July 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your letter of the 20th of July and was glad to hear from you again. I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. I'm feeling fine and in the best of health also.

Well that letter will get to your C.O. in time or else back to me. Well as for meeting you I can't get all the way out to you for it is just too far away. I looked it up on the map and made arrangements that I can meet you in Birmingham at the Red Cross Club there if you can get the time off. You see that would

Censored

You write and let me know if you can make it and then let me know. The best time would be the first week in Aug. on the week-end. Write and let me know if you can make that kind of arrangement.

Well I don't think I'll be home before the baby is born for it will be in Aug. or Sept. Yes we both wanted it that way and that is the way it turned out. I also found out that Harry was in the hosp. and I tried to find out if he was in a hosp. somewhere in England and then I'd try and get to see him. I saw my brother-in-law in a hosp. here, he was also wounded in the invasion on D-Day and is recovering all right now. Well I'll have to cut short now for I also work in the orderly room and also help the personnel clerk and have it a little easy on certain days. I have to take some of the fellows somewhere and I want to get to you as soon as possible so I'm writing right away. Write you again in a couple of days to answer your letter.

Your loving cousin,
Mickey

Post #422 - July 25, 1944 It Seems My Fears are Correct—Ed is in Combat and I’m Positive Has or Will See Action and It Is Always Cool Here, a Fresh Breeze Blowing 24 Hours of the Day

 

July 25, 1944 

Darling Hubby, 

It’s so darn hot that I decided I was going to have some air, hence the pen.

I had three letters today: one from you (July 20 - with snap enclosed) one from Sy and one from Ed (Thank God!) dated July 14. It seems my fears are correct—he is in combat and l'm positive has or will see action. Please write to him often, honey, cause he's always asking about you. My Mom and Pop are worried sick and l'm almost glad that my Mom has Adele to keep her going all day long. I hope and pray that everything will be okay with him! I shall be uneasy now til I know the war is over—especially where he is concerned. He's so young! He asked me write often and l shall make every effort to do so. I'm going to write to him and Sy when I finish this.

Mom is still at Browns Mills. It's a little hard on Goldie now that she has the cooking to do. However she does very little of it. Yesterday they ate at the Asia, taking Diana with them, carriage and all. Goldie and work just don’t mix—she can’t take it at all. She has more pep than I do, but no stamina or spirit. I’m not strong but my spirit makes me strong. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to come through all I had to go through. l’ve been eating at my mom's all week to save me the trouble of preparing my own dinner. Phil, if ever I appreciated my family, it’s now. There isn’t a thing they haven’t done for me to make my life a bit easier.

Sy writes that he saw restricted movies and “that we are losing more than people realize.” He said this was supposed to be a secret. He also said that he is “homesick as hell” and also wants me to write often. What I should do is stop working as a secretary and hire one to help me out.

I was most anxious to see a snap of you, sweet, and this one came just as I had finished commenting on my desire for one. I think you look swell, honey, especially cause you look thinner. I got so terribly heartsick looking at the likeness of you that I simply felt like lying down and dyin’. Phil, I miss you more than ever before and l'm so terrible anxious to see you——

Sorry you didn’t care for “Cover Girl”— I didn’t think it was marvelous—l just enjoyed it—after all I don't see that many movies to judge by your standards:

I can't find Syd's address at the moment—will send it along in a later letter. I have to write to him, too. We also had a v-mail from Max Brown.

Room to say “I adore you, angel mine (sigh——

Your Eve

25 July 1944 

Ev, dearest,

At last—some “real" mail! This afternoon I received your letters of 7 and 12 July (both containing snaps of the punkin), your V-mail of the 18th and another midget edition of the Bulletin of 3rd July from Dot.

The pictures of our young lady were very nice, and most welcome. I note, especially, that the two taken in June with Ricky show her much heavier than the other two taken on 2 July. As a matter of fact, the two sets could very well be of two separate and distinct little girls. I particularly liked the way she looked in the unsmiling pose of the latter set. It is surprising that she is taller and heavier than Ricky. This proves that she is growing at a remarkable rate. I think, perhaps, that is why her legs and feet aren’t as straight as they should be. The pictures taken in June aren't too good. They show her sullen, and pre-occupied in what you are saying to her. Those taken by Petey, however, are very good. What was it that amused her so in one of them? Ricky appears a stout little lad but what happened to his resemblance for Tony? He is a good looking kid, and has changed much since I saw him last. By the way, Chippie, iI think the punkin's features are changing, too. She looks different, somehow, in her latest pictures, and her resemblance to me is hard to see here. I note, too, Sweet, that you get part of yourself into one of the pictures. I wish you'd be a little more considerate of my feelings, when you so unthinkingly tease me with a half-glimpse of yourself. The “soldier-suit" still seems to fit you, darling. I remember that it was very tight on you when I left. Does that mean you are losing weight, or that you "let it out"? You're neglecting to tell me what you are wearing these days. You promised to—you know.

Glad to learn that you finally managed to get those shoes for Adele, and I’m equally glad that you are being more generous to yourself—as witness your paying eight bucks for a pair of oxfords. Somehow, eight bucks doesn’t loom as large in my calculations as it used to in those days when I was shopping with you.

Can’t understand why I haven’t heard from Mike. 

Wish you could spend the summer with me here in England, Baby. It is always cool here, a fresh breeze blowing 24 hours of the day. The only disadvantage I have found in the English weather is that it is so changeable. One moment, there isn't a cloud in the sky, and in the next, rain is falling from a sky darkened by dark rain clouds. But we haven't had to put up with even ordinary summer heat, let alone the hot spell you tell me about in yours of the 7th.

About mailing chocolates during the hot weather, suit yourself, honey, but it's still the only thing you can send me that I can’t get in sufficient quantity over here. Of course, Chiclets, gum and Life Savers are always welcome.

Forgot to say that Ruthie's letter of 9 July also reached me today. She seems to be having a nice vacation. I must get off a letter to her soon, ’cause I haven't answered her last three. 

Your V-mail of the 18th advised me that Mom has gone to Brown's Mills “for a while". That is all very nice, but who prepares the meals now? Surely Goldie doesn’t have the time with Diana Jean to take care of, and it goes without saying that you have your hands full between your job and the punkin. Who then? Not Harry, I'm sure. Are you all eating out while Mom’s away? It's all very puzzling, and I’d like to know what arrangements were made. Frankly, I don't see how Mom could possibly get away. I'll be expecting to hear about it, Baby.

There really isn’t anything to report from this end, Chippie,—things go on just as usual, I divide the day between the Orderly Room, my bunk, the Aero club, and the movies. It is just "date time,” my darling, and it's good to know that just as I long to hold you in my arms, to kiss the sweet pulse in your throat—you are thinking of your husband and lover, the guy who is so proud to refer to himself as

Your Phil

Love to all, especially my punkin.

Post #421 - July 24, 1944 We Haven’t Had Mail from Eddie for Several Weeks and I Have a Funny Fear About Him and They Have Installed a Real Honest-to-God Soda-Fountain in the Snack Bar, and I Got Homesick Just Looking at It

  

July 24th, 1944

Dearest Phil,

Today, after four mailless days, I received your "longies" of July 15 and 16, both of which I enjoyed no end. (Pardon me, 16 and 17). Oh yes, sweet, I forgot to tell you that I acquired an entire box of 5th Avenue bars, which will go into the mails some time this week. You are right, sweet, it is Kennett (two "t's") Square instead of Kenneth Square. I argued with the bookkeeper about it and then let it go at that. I often sent mail to Kennett Square for Miss Hahn and thought perhaps it was another town. Our bookkeeper reminds me of you in many ways. He's forever looking things up and is a very intelligent fellow. For instance, when I asked him how to spell ouija board (I just couldn't think of how the letters went) he looked it all up and gave me a full explanation of the whole thing.

As for you working for Mr. B - I don't think - I’d like it under present conditions. I'm not very crazy about Mr. B as far as people go and I'm sure you wouldn't care to work for him. Then again - you might. I'm extremely doubtful, though, cause his ideas and yours just wouldn't mix nohow. I estimate he does anywhere from $5000 to $10,000 per week of business. Of course this isn't profit - I don't know exactly how much of it would be profit, though I do imagine he clears about $500 for himself. He pays George $100.0 (just a hundred, dear). My father does a variety of things - he sells most of the time, keep the counters orderly by dusting and fixing them, helps in the shipping room at times, puts up displays and takes them apart, arranges the windows, etc. Everyone considered a salesman does the same thing. It's an easy enough job, except when it comes to handling a heavy shipment. And that completes most everything there is to comment about in your letters.

Phil, we haven't had mail from Eddie for several weeks and I have a funny fear about him. Oh how I wish we would hear from the kid! Yesterday evening I learned that the boy across the street, who was listed as missing was killed. I was passing the house and saw quite a few people there and lots or flowers. I called Jeannette (Emma's girlfriend) and asked her how she was. She said, "Not so good and then blurted out with tears that her brother was reported killed - and I guess that's war, Ev". He was married a year in April and his mother is a widow having lost her husband just recently. Need I tell you how I felt! And knowing that Eddie is there only heightens my feelings! Life is so terribly bitter at times! It’s a pity for her, for her life was wrapped about her son and his future.

Cookie was supposed to get married this coming Wednesday (formal wedding) as Morty is getting his first furlough. However, his furlough was postponed til next week, so I guess the wedding'll have to wait til next week, Uncle Sam didn't get a thing out of that patent he thought of - just a prize. That's the Navy yard for you.

Etta called this evening and I finally learned that Phil is at Tacoma, Wash. in the medical corps. getting basic training. Etta and Nat just dropped in to see us. Etta is carrying very largely going into her seventh month next week. They said they expected to see you any day now, what with all the big commentators saying the war will definitely be over in from two to six weeks. I can't believe it - really –

And now, baby, comes the time to sign off, much as I hate to. I love you so much, darling, and want to be with you more than I could ever say. This was just a regular routine day for

Your Eve

24 July 1944 

Sweetheart,

Just got back from the theater, where I saw "Lady in the Dark". It is a very beautiful picture, splendid in its richness of color and design. The story is intriguing, well-paced and as modern as the accoutrements in the psycho-analysts office. Ginger Rogers is as cold and hot as she chooses to be, as plain or beautiful as she is supposed to be to meet the demands of the plot, and is downright alluring when she has to be (in the "Jenny” number). Altogether, a remarkable performance, and one she may will be proud of. Try to see it, Sweet, I know you will love it. The supporting cast is just that, but Ray Milland, Warner Baxter and Jon Hall all turn up with convincing performances.

Otherwise, it has been a very dull day—as dull as the leaden skies that have been brooding over our heads these past few days. As you know, Sweet, I was “on pass” today. So I slept until 11 o'clock, when I got up, dressed, and went to lunch. After lunch I loafed some more. When I relax I really do it up brown! The afternoon brought no mail, and I was greatly let-down, ’cause I was sure there would be some after the driblets that have come thru the past week.

After the show, which I attended with Red, by the way, I went to the Snack Bar for a coke and a couple of sandwiches while he went back to barracks to get cleaned up. They have installed a real honest-to-God soda-fountain in the Snack Bar, and I got homesick just looking at it. Today, they served only cokes over the fountain, but maybe they’ll get around to malteds and ice-cream eventually. I ran into the ubiquitous (there's that word again) Klein there, and after finishing our cokes and sandwiches, we adjourned to the lounge. We stayed just long enough to hear the news at 9 o'clock, then we come back to the area. Which again brings me up-to-date, Baby, I'm feeling very blue and lonely tonight, so lest I spill tears, all over this nice paper, I'll sign off now with all my love to you, Evvie mine. Love to all from 

Your Phil