Post #517 - November 24, 25, 1944 Today is My Mother’s Birthday and Right Now, I am Toasting Myself Before a “Smashing” Fire

 

Nov. 25, 1944

My Darling,

Sorry I had to end off so abruptly last night, but that's how it is. I got to bed rather late and had a picnic getting up this morning. I had to dash like mad to get out of here, for I was anxious to get a ride in. I missed getting a ride in with Mr. Bellet, so I rode down to Broad & Girard with one of the neighbors in a truck. As I got on the subway at Broad and Girard, I met Shirley Anapolsky. She looks wonderful and looked very nice in a lovely black persian lamb coat, muff and hat. Her husband has been overseas for almost two years and has no hopes of a furlough. Her husband has met with Harry on several occasions (Harry Anapolsky).

I was done at 1 and headed straight home. Today is my mother's birthday and I gave her $5 in cash, as a gift. I felt extraordinarily good, once arrived home, for the simple reason that I hit the jackpot today. I had five letters in all - two from you (those of Nov. 5 & 6), two from Milt Brown and one from Syd.

Both of your letters were very sweet, honey, and I'm sorry I can find nothing in them to comment on. They put me in a mellow mood - and that's all important you know.' Milt wrote of two skirmishes with Jap planes and said "that a hole was a handy thing to have around here - I wouldn't trade mine for a million dollars". Most surprising of all was Syd’s letter. He took a poke at some guy in camp and connected - and wound up at a rest camp on the Isle of Capri. He had a sort of nervous breakdown and let loose when this fellow annoyed him. He said that he felt a lot better mentally than he had felt in a long time, now that he had had a rest. He didn't mention the fight to his family, not wishing them to know how bad off he had been. I'm glad you wrote to him, for he is in bad need of some cheering correspondents and I, for one, shall try to write to him more often. All but 50 of his original outfit have been sent back to the States, but he can't seem to get back. It's really a pity, for he has been there a long time.

Most surprising of all was the fact that Gloria walked in and we had no idea she was coming. We got to chattering and before I knew it it was time to feed Adele and get her to bed. I washed, fixed myself up a bit and am now writing to you, while Mom and Glo gab in the kitchen. Here's a bit of news: Lee is pregnant and is in her fourth month. She's going to go back to New York to give birth and will stay with her grandmother. Can you imagine! She'll be 17 next month! Anne is due to give birth shortly and Sammy is making out very nicely, Glo, by the way, was the first to gift Adele this year. She handed me a card in which $5 in defense stamps had been enclosed.

And something else - Jean Levin is in England and I shall get her address for you first opportunity I get. She just landed there and I understand she'll be stationed at a general hospital. It would be nice if you could see her, providing she isn't too far away. I'm hoping you didn't make that planned visit to see Eddie, for you must know by now that he is right here, only 28 miles from home, Eddie called us at my Aunt’s place and we all took turns talking to him. Even Adele said "Hello, Eddie" and he couldn't get over how clearIy she spoke.

Now that I've had my little say (?) I shall turn my attention to our guest for a change. I'm always busy when she comes. Guess you know full well that I’m "that” way about you, Phil dearest, and that I just love being

Your Eve

25 November 1944

My Sweet,

In the past eleven days, I have received only one letter, your V-mail of 11 Nov! Here it is almost the end of November, and I’ve received only two letters of yours written this month! Very discouraging, Chippie! I know it isn't your fault, honey, and the postal authorities probably have damned good reasons for holding up the mail, but it is discouraging, nevertheless.

Yesterday was a typically routine day. When it came evening, and time to write my daily letter, I realized that I had not the slightest idea as to what to write about that would be even remotely interesting to you, so - since I've been writing pretty regularly here of late, I thought you wouldn't mind too much if I took a “day off". Do you mind, darling?

For that matter, there is very little of consequence to write about today! Stahle and I worked all day on a report, and only finished at about 4:30. I'm CQ again tonight (my own turn this time). Most of the night was spent trying to get a fire burning in this damned stove. After three fruitless attempts, I was pretty well disgusted, but on the fourth try I got a good blaze going. Right now, I am toasting myself before a “smashing” fire. 

I guess you know by now that I finally got Red to finish that pendant for Adele. Hope it is not too long getting there!

It is, I realize, rather large for one as diminutive as our dear little punkin, but it couldn’t be made any smaller, else the wings wouldn't have fitted on it. It may not look like much to you, Sweet, but I assure you that it is quite a job to make. I myself, would never have the patience required. Without exaggerating, I will say that Red put in at least eight hours of tedious work, cutting it out, pressing in the wings and the eyelet, and polishing the plexiglass. Being entirely hand-made, it is worth far more than you would suppose. As a matter of fact, had Red chosen to charge me for his labor, I could not have afforded it! So I think it would be no more than good manners if the punkin were to address a sort of thank-you note to him. That's a hint that it might pay you to heed, Chippie - if’n you know what I mean— 

For days, I had been wondering what I was going to say to the lass in her birthday letter, but, happily, once I got down to it, the letter wrote itself. I trust it pleased you. sweetheart.

However devoid of thoughts and words my head may be, of one thing you may be sure, Ev, baby - I shall always know what to say to you. And right now I am saying, as I always have said, and always will say - “I adore you, sweet wife.” Love to Adele and all the family from

Your Phil

Nov. 24th, 1944

Dear Phil:

Received your most welcomed letter of Oct.29, the other day, & it sure was swell hearing from you. You really don’t have to apologize for not writing sooner, as I know myself that one gets so disgusted at times, that he doesn’t feel like doing anything. We just got back from another mission the other day, & it sure was no picnic for us. Our outfit made two beacheads, & were the first wave to go in and hit the beach. The second Island we hit is where the Japs were. The boat I was on was the first one to hit the beach, & l was the third man off. We three were the furthest inland of the rest at the men. The two fellows in front of me, the first one got a bullet right through the side of his helmet, the second fellow, well I can’t say anything about him through the mail, and as for myself, I sure had a close one. A Jap threw a hand grenade at me, & it sure landed pretty close, Some of the shrapnel hit me in my left hand, but lucky enough only a few small pieces got me in the left hand. It’s pretty well healed up now, & l don’t think it will leave any marks. Thats one beachhead I’ll never forget, & l guess it won’t be the last one I’ll be on. Every time I think of what we went through and saw, I get so angry and mad that l could kill a thousand of those dogs, & every chance I get I’m going to give them everything I got to pay up for a few things. As for souvenirs our boys sure did get a raw deal on them. We were the first ones in, & we could not stop as we had to keep on pushing & fighting them back, while the reserves that came in later on behind us, got them without fighting a bit. We call them the USO boys. As for myself, they can have all the souvenirs, as I have the only one I want, & I am sitting on it right now. It sure is some feeling that you can’t describe in a letter when your coming in to hit the beach, & those Japs are firing on you. The lucky ones of us, that did make the beach, you could not even move around, for if you did, those Jap snipers would pick you off like a clay duck. We sure were pinned down for a while, and grenades, rifles and machine guns, were blasting all around us. We did our job though, & those Japs will never bother no one else. I can’t say how many we got, but we did not do too bad. I would tell you a bit more of what happened, & what we saw, but you know the censorship. We are now back on the same island we left from, and the Jap bombers gave us a good reception the last few nights. You can’t even get a night’s sleep any more. We sure had a big mail call when we came back, which we all enjoyed. I sure did get my share of it. I had three letters from Evelyn in the bunch. I wrote her yesterday. l enjoy writing to her, & l keep her well posted on the news. I write her at least two or three times a week when we can write, & she also writes me pretty often. Well, Phil, I’ll close for now as I have a bunch of other letters to write. Take good care of yourself. Drop me a line, when you have a few spare moments, & l’ll do the same.

Your loving cousin,
Milt

Post #516 - November 23, 1944 Be Very Sure That You Put This Letter in a Safe Place and You Remain the Very Image of the Daughter I Always Wanted

 

23 November 1944

Darling Chippie,

Yet another mail-less day, and I am wondering what I can say tonight to fill a coupla these pages.

I might start off by saying that we had a swell Thanksgiving Day dinner this afternoon. There was plenty of turkey, with all the “fixins,” for all, and I, for one, enjoyed it. I hope that all of you at home fared as well.

Tonight, I am pulling Sgt. Lafoon's CQ for him, and I was meaning to take advantage of it by getting off a real “longie" to you, Sweet, but I find it very hard to do when I don't have a letter of yours to answer. However, as soon as I finish this, I am going to write my second letter directly to Miss Adele Bara Strongin bless her l’il heart. Be very sure that you put it in a safe place, honey, 'cause I mean her to have it some day, when she is old enough to understand it. Red finally finished the pendant, and I’m enclosing it with her letter. I know it isn't much, as far as a gift goes, darling, but it is the best I can do under a restricting set of circumstances. The important thing is that she understand that it is daddy's present to her. I think I can trust you to see to that, Baby.

You must be wondering about what I am smoking these days, since cigarettes are unobtainable. Thank goodness, we can still buy tobacco, so I merely dug up a coupla pipes I had laying around, and am making good use of them.

There is nothing I can think of right now that might interest you, Sweet, but I remember promising to try to write a decent amount today, so I’m most reluctant to sign off before I have completed at least this page and i'm going to do it if I have to sit and think all night!

I might mention (just to fill up space) that the weather isn't too bad these days. It is remarkably mild, as a matter of fact, for November. There is still plenty of green to be seen about the countryside, and the trees are just beginning to moult their leaves. It is uncommonly damp, though, ’cause we've had quite a bit of wet weather.

Just called the operator to give him the schedule for ringing me thru the night. He is to call me at 12:45, 5:00, and 6:30. At that, I'm pretty lucky! Usually, I also have to get up at 3:00 to wake the cooks, but they aren't working tomorrow.

I might mention, Baby, that I’m at wits’ end about your Xmas present and also those for the rest of the family. I would very much like to repeat my procedure of last year, but, alas, I am flat broke - and will be for a month or two yet, so it looks very much like the only Xmas offerings it will be able to tender this year will be apologies. 

And now there is just room enough to remind you, my beloved Chippie, that there is one thing you can always count on - the never-waning, everlasting devotion of

Your Phil

23 November 1944 

My adored Punkin,

On this Thanksgiving Day, just six days before your second birthday, I am moved to write to you once again. It is just a year since I instituted the practice of writing an annual "birthday letter" to you, and little did I think then that I would be writing the next one in pretty much the same circumstances, but by the time you are old enough to read and understand this, you will have realized that our meanderings up the road of time are most unpredictable. It goes without saying, darling, that I regret most deeply that I could not be with you on the occasion of your second birthday, but if the spirit counts for anything, then you must consider that I am ever close to you.

This being Thanksgiving day, it is only natural that it occurred to me to count my blessings. Thank God, they far exceed my liabilities, both in number and importance. I have only to look on my shelf above my bunk to be aware of my two great blessings. Surely, no man could consider himself unfortunate who has as charming a daughter as your own sweet self, and as lovely and loving a wife as is your mother! It is your beloved likenesses smiling so confidently down at me that is my greatest source of comfort in my present loneliness. My heart is too full of my love for you to allow of any room for doubt or depression, but, being no more than human, I cannot help but hunger for the reality of you, my darlings.

Then, too, I count as blessings the mother-love of your own dear grandmother, Bella, your grandparents and uncles and aunt of the Paller clan, my own brothers, Harry and Jack, and my dear cousins, the Wymans and Browns and Strongins. In a word, I am very proud of my family - as you will be one day, my sweet. Perhaps most of all, am I grateful for my father, may he rest in peace, the grandfather you never knew, but who, nevertheless, is largely responsible for your being. For it is he who will ever be the greatest influence on my future conduct. It is his creed, his principles and ideals that I live by, and that I will do my best to ingrain in you as you develop, my punkin. There are other things that I will never cease to be grateful for; things too numerous to mention; things that some people take for granted. like a healthy mind and body, a deep appreciation for the beauties in the works both of man and nature, or a strong conviction in the ultimate victory of men of good faith and intentions over the evils that constantly work for the downfall of mankind. These are some of the things I count as blessings, my dear, but there are many, many more that I recognize and appreciate. I would give you a bit of advice in this connection, my daughter, an axiom, if you will, that you will do well to remember: Never take the good things of life for granted. Count your blessings. Know them, and be grateful for them.

But I fear I have digressed from the intent of this letter. (You will have learned that your dad is inclined to be a windy old bird, once he takes his pen in hand.) My real purpose in writing this is to wish you well on the occasion of your second birthday. May there be many happy ones to follow!

Some recent snapshots which your mother was good enough to send to me, tells me better than any words could, what a dear little girl you are. I am very proud of you, Baby, and just looking at your picture conjures up delightful visions for me. You remain the very image of the daughter I always wanted. Your mother will vouch for the truth of that. In my mind's eye, I see you growing up to be a beautiful young lady; I see you bringing your lessons to me; I see you playing tennis in the summer sun; poising for a dive; dancing with your friends; making wonderful music on the piano - all these, and hosts of other images I see, just by looking at that snapshot of you. So you see, darling, your dad has many ambitions where you are concerned. All his hopes and dreams are wrapped up in you. Your mother and I will do all we can to further your opportunities for a full and happy life - on that you may depend.

The enclosed gift is little enough, I know, dear, but ere you judge it too harshly, permit me to explain its significance. To me, the pendant is symbolic, and I'll be grateful if you'll accept it in the spirit in which it is offered. Know then, my dear, that the heart you wear is my heart that loves you dearly. The accident of its crystal transparency you may construe to mean that it is a pure and blameless heart that loves you. That, you have my solemn word for. The impressed insignia represents the service for which I was compelled to sacrifice the privilege of being with you during the greater part of your two years. Wear it in the best of health, my punkin.

In closing, I wish you a very Happy Birthday, Baby. Kiss my beloved Evelyn for

Your loving dad

Post #515 - November 21, 22, 1944 Lil’s Package Contains Delicacies Which I Haven’t Tasted These Past 15 Months in the U.K. and We Had a Letter from the Valley Forge Hospital Today, Informing Us That Eddie was There

 

21 Nov. 1944

My Darling,

Arrived back in camp about midnight. This morning - back to the old grind. My work, thanks to Stahle and Murphy, is pretty well under control. So much so, in fact, that I had very little to do today. Naturally, the first thing I looked for when I came in to work this morning was my mail. Alas, it has been held up again. In all the time I was away, I received only your V-mail of 11 Nov. and Lil's package of foodstuffs. I'm not complaining, Sweet, but I had rather hoped to find at least three or four letters awaiting me. Today, although there was plenty of mail for the company, as a whole, there was not even one letter for me. Oh well - tomorrow is another day. (Not another mail-less one, I hope!)

Lil's package is a very welcome one because it contains delicacies which I haven’t tasted these past 15 months in the U. K. The contents, which are still intact, are as follows: A can of tuna; a tin of anchovies; bottle of mayonnaise; condensed milk; Nestle's instant chocolate; can of pineapple, and a large box of Cheez-It. Some night, when the weather is bad, and the fellows don't feel like pedaling or walking down to the mess-hall, we'll make a feast on the stuff Lil was good enough to send along. Until I am able to write to her, tell her that I thank her, and my hut-mates thank her. Her gift is most apropos and very much appreciated. As a matter of fact, I have almost forgiven her for refusing to write for so long - but not quite.

Your V-mail was written while you and Mom and Goldie were waiting for Nat to pick you up to take you to the party in honor of my newest cousin, Vicki Paula Blank, may her years be long and happy! This is the first word I have had about this particular blessed event. I'm awaiting the details. Please convey my congratulations to Etta and Nat, Sweet. I don't have their address. 

This letter also informed me of Mickey's indisposition. I hope that she is well recovered by the time this reaches you. 

Thanks a million, honey, for the detailed description of how you looked, your costume, etc. on that particular night. I wish you would remember to write about yourself more often. You seem to forget, Baby, that you are, by far, the most interesting subject I know. You mention a gray and white checked “lumberjack dress." Is it a new one, Chippie? And what is a “lumberjack dress" please?

You quote some of Adele's most recent utterances, and they're all cute, but one in particular intrigued me - the one in which she says, in part "Mommy wants you—” Just how, Chippie, does the punkin know that?

Speaking of Adele reminds me, Ev, that I meant to send off her birthday gift today, together with a letter to her, but I'm afraid it will have to wait 'til tomorrow, ’cause Red was too busy to work on it this past week, and is just finishing it. He has promised to have it ready tomorrow.

Until tomorrow, then, sweetheart, I'll bid you my fondest adieu - and my fondest adieu consists of a long, lingering kiss, a close embrace, and a whispered "I love you, my Evvie". My dearest love to Adele, your daughter and mine, and - my love to all.

Constantly,

(Hmm! How come I never thought of that before?)

Your Phil

Nov. 22, 1944

Sweetheart,

I thought sure that there would be some mail for me today but I was disappointed again. We won't discuss the mail situation tonight, or the paper might burn. I neglected to tell you that I had mailed off the can of chocolate chip cookies I had readied for you and hope they taste as well when you receive them as they did when I tasted them.

I called Etta last night to find out how she has been coming along. She has a nurse staying with her, who takes full charge of everything and Etta is still taking it very easy. The baby is gaining nicely and that's most important.

We had a letter from Gloria and she intends to visit us shortly. She wanted to come on Adele's birthday, but that will be impossible. I wrote her last night and told her to come regardless. Last night, too, Mom, Goldie and I wrote to Jack. I told Jack (and Mom) that Jack should be flattered that his family writes to him so often, cause they certainly do not write to you. Just as a matter of record, exactly how many letters have you received from Goldie since you went overseas? I'm sure it is only one, or two, at the most and I can't help getting aggravated when everyone keeps complaining that we don't write to Jack enough. Even Gloria wants to know why I'm the only one who knows how to write. Oh well, it's all in a lifetime - and a hundred years from now who'll know the difference.

I stayed up late last night, since I wrote to you, Jack and Glo, washed, showered, etc.

I started to type the above at work, so you can Imagine how surprised I was upon arriving home, to find three letters for me, two from you and one from Jack Nerenberg. The two from you were dated Nov. 1 and 2 and contained the snaps. No, I don't think you look particularly well in either, but that's not important. Long as I can gaze upon your well-loved features, it's okay with me. I can't remember what kind or number of film you want, so enlighten me, dear one, and I shall send along some film. I'm glad you finally received the bottles & nipples and I am most anxious to learn whether they were okay. If you recall there were a few things for you in the package and I hope you unpacked it before giving it to Evelyn. Jack said nothing at all, but asked for the letter, which I neglected to forward. I shall get a letter off to him tomorrow.

We had a letter from the Valley Forge Hospital today, informing us that Eddie was there. There was a few sheets of questions stapled together, which have to be answered concerning Eddie's life history, in the letter. Evidently Eddie isn't as well off as I hoped he was. He asked us not to visit him, but if we don't hear from him shortly again, we shall visit him anyway. Room enough, I see to send along my love to my beloved.

Your Eve



22 November 1944

Dearest Eve, 

Just returned from the base theater, where I saw Humphrey Bogart, Peter Lorre and others in "Passage to Marseilles". It was a disjointed sort of film, mainly because it made free use of the “flash-back". However, it was a fast-moving, interesting yarn - in spite of the kaleidoscopic impression one caught watching it. 

I was kept pretty busy today, but I am pretty well caught up with my work for a change. I hope to keep it that way.

There was nothing at all in the mail for me today, which makes it a sum total of one V-mail and one package in the last eight days. I'm looking to hit the “jack-pot" any day now.

Red didn't get a chance to work on that trinket for the punkin, but it requires only the finishing touches, so I’m almost positive I'll be able to mail it off tomorrow.

I'm really at a loss for words tonight, darling, so you'll have to forgive me the brevity of this particular letter. I'll try to do better tomorrow.

Hasta manana, then, Baby, I leave you with all my love, Two kisses for Adele - one for each of her two years. My love to all.

Your adoring hubby,
Phil 

P.S. Enclosed is a souvenir of my meeting with Limey. I've been holding it back to show the boys. Note: I franc = 2 cents.

Rough Translation of the Yiddish Letter from Rebecca (Bella) Strongin, Philip’s Mother:

Nov. 22, 1944

My beloved and dear son, Philip,

I am writing to you to let you know that we are all well and living well. We are especially so since we got your letter. It made us feel so good to hear that you are doing well. My darling son, I am writing this letter today and thanking God. I thank God every day for all the blessings he has given everyone in our family. I thank God for your little one and hope that God will watch over you, my dear and darling Philip. We are having trouble receiving your mail. We sometimes have to wait 2 to 3 weeks to get a few letters. I do understand that it is not your fault that the mail is held up. But, thank God, at least we hear the news from you that everything is alright with you. May God continue to watch over you, and we hope that nothing worse should happen to you, my lovely son. Where I keep your letters, my beloved, I will not tell you. I know that you understand my meaning quite well [In her bosom]. Because of this, I know that you will not stop writing. As for the little one [meaning his youngest brother, Jack, stationed in Guinea] I thank God that he writes two letters per week, and his letters are very sweet. He also wrote to Ethel (Chase) that he has further discerned, as he writes, that he is in a good place, but very far from you. I can also write to you that I am not as fat as I was, I have lost 23 lbs. I feel so much better. I can walk much better. I have a very good doctor, take medicine, and every week I take two needles for protection from colds and nerves. Now, in addition, I have learned that my health will become even better with time. Now, my dear son, about your daughter, the beautiful and bright one, I can tell you that there is so much I could write. She has a temper, sometimes, but also a big heart, and your nice teeth, and she is a beauty. She is vey friendly. I am so happy to be able to write that Goldie with her daughter is such a blessing. That the Lord provided me grandchildren is such a nice thing. I like this so much. I believe that I have now written you everything I wanted to say and I may have forgotten some things, but I am sure that Evelyn has not failed to write everything to you since she writes every day. But my darling son, please write me a letter with a couple of words just for me. Well, good-night my dear son from Your Mother.

Post #514 - November 20, 1944 I’m Sure Most of the Waiting is Over and I Did See Quite a Bit of England During the Course of My Travels

 

Nov. 20, 1944

My dearest,

This morning I waited around for the mailman, just so I wouldn't have to wait til evening to read the mail I expected to get. I was deeply disappointed to find that there wasn't even a single letter.

Nov. 21, 1944

No doubt you are wondering what happened between what I wrote above and now. Well, let’s start at the beginning. I wrote to you on the 19th and when I finished I dressed Adele and took her along with me to post your letter. I always lift her up and let her place the letter in the box, for she gets a big kick out of that. As we left the house, up pulled Al's car, with Ethel, Paul, Rae, Stuart and of course, Al. They stayed a short while and then left. I gave Ethel Adele’s old blue snowsuit to use as a spare for Stuart. Stuart stood up in his crib the other day alone. He'll be eight months old on the 26th and is quite a big boy now. It struck me funny as I watched Adele and Paul run after each other, Goldie holding Diana and Al holding Stuart. You sure are going to have to become acquainted with a lot of new people!

When they left Sarah and Petey came over for a few minutes, to say hello to Adele, That kid just adores both of them!

Shortly after Sarah and Petey had come in, Mr & Mrs. Bader arrived, in time for their dinner date with us. Mom and I have promised to definitely visit them this coming weekend and I fully intend to keep my promise. I was sorry I could not spend the evening at home, but I had promised Dot and Snuff that I would be out, and that's where I went,

I got Adele to bed early, but she refused to go to sleep. Therefore, I didn't leave the house til 8:30, which means that I arrived at Dot's at 9:30 - or too late to go anywhere (we had thought of taking in a movie, since Snuff had until 2 in the morning). I wore my grey lumberjack dress, silver earrings (and I was terribly aggravated, cause when I got back home I discovered I had lost one of the earrings and they went so well with my dress - oh well, I'll have to get Mom another pair and get myself a pair), fur coat, brown shoes and bag and white leather gloves. I had a large red flower in my hair and my hair looked almost as well as it did when I went to Lena's last week.

Snuff looks positively grand, having dropped lots of weight. That reminds me, when Eddie called long distance Saturday night, he told Jack to tell me that he had seen you and that you looked swell, having put on weight. I'm glad you look swell, but I dislike the "put on weight" part. I don't have to tell you how much better you look when you have less weight. Wish I could say the same for myself.

Snuff brought home a fellow (that sleeps in the same barracks with him) for the weekend, as the fellow is from Michigan and didn't had anything to do over the weekend. This fellow is protestant and 35 years old. Funny thing about him was that he reminded me of you. I can't say exactly what reminded me of you, except that he was built something like you and his general appearance struck a familiar note. I know I shouldn't tell you this (for fear of your jealous streak) but I'm going to tell you anyway. The four of us went over to the ice-cream parlor (same one we used to go to that used to be Syd's) and had some ice-cream. Dot’s sister in-law and brother-in-law walked in and said to this fellow "My you're looking good"! (thinking that he was you). Can you imagine her embarrassment when she got a good look at him and realized that he was not my husband! He, on the other hand, said, "Maybe I should feel complimented". The whole situation only tended to make me want you that much more and I was kind of relieved when I was on my way home. I also brought my new dress home.

I got home, rather late (Snuff walked me to the el) and I walked home from Broad St. It was about 2:30. when I got to bed and I had a picnic getting up Monday morning to go to work. I waited around for the mail - and you may refer to the first few sentences of this letter when none failed to arrive. I was blue all day and very much in the dumps, I started this before leaving the office. When I got home I took Adele up and lay down with her. Next thing I knew it was 12:30 A.M., and there I was - fully clothed. I had some milk and cookies, undressed, washed some things, washed myself and went back to bed. After a good night's sleep, I was greeted with three be u u u tiful letters, though they were very old, being dated Oct. 27, 29 and 30. It may be the Xmas rush or sumpin' that's holding up the mail so long and I'll be mighty grateful when the rush is over. Now to answer your letters, I'm glad you're interested enough in writing to write that letter to Coronet. I told you before, I don't care if you fail a thousand times - as long as you keep trying. I'm sorry you did’nt send me a copy, but I'm sure it was well-written, as well as intelligent and I shall not be disappointed should you fail to win. I'm glad that you like the latest batch of snaps. Adele uses both her hands for everything, but I'm sure she'll be using the right hand when the time for using that hand only arrives. Yes, Adele is a very large kid for her age. In fact, she's taller than every other kid I know. No, dear, I wasn't hinting about the $18 for the bike for Adele. I wouldn't hint about it - I'd ask you for it - so there now. I was disappointed to hear that you are in debt. You're right - I don't like it. I sometimes wonder how you'd manage if you were on this end - but that's okay - you're forgiven. Then you got to talking about my remark that Adele is "your one and only daughter". Guess you're right - for it's going to be that way for a long, long time. There will have to be some very definite changes, etc., but we won't go into that now. So Evelyn and party kidded the ears off you about my letter! You needn't have any fears about my asking them such questions as "what kind of women you would make dates with, etc." The letter was a simple, nice letter and no doubt, you've seen it by this time. I'm mildly surprised that you agree with me on the matter of the furlough. I didn't want to tell you what to do, because of the fact that you haven't seen Adele for a long time and I wanted the decision to be yours, especially in that connection. I'm sure most of the waiting is over and if I could wait this long, I certainly can wait a little longer for the perfect reunion with you, my sweet. As for me practicing dancing - you needn't worry, honey, I love to dance!

I see I'm just about at the end of my letter, so I'll continue with this tomorrow, My Aunt Gussie has invited me out to her place Thursday evening for dinner, as my cousin Meyer is home on furlough, and I hope I can make it.

Harry is making a fair living at the moment with the station. He loves being his own boss. You ought to hear Adele reply to what's your name? Her reply, clearly, is "Adele Bahra Trongin" and she lives on 8th St. I love you, sweet!

Your Eve

P.S. I'm very anxious to know what you decided in regard to keeping up this house. Many people think I’m a darn fool for keeping it. After examining it very carefully I've decided to give it up, but I shall wait to hear from you.

20 Nov. 1944

Dearest Darling,

I am writing this in the Colchester Red Cross Club, where I am killing the next few hours before catching a truck back to camp. Last night, after I left Bert and Evelyn, about 11:30, I came here to sleep. This morning, after cleaning up, shaving and breakfasting here, I sat around and read the papers. The “big push" seems to be going well, and it made very gratifying reading. About 11 o'clock, I took a walk to the Marks’, and spent a few hours chatting with Mr. Marks. At 1:15, I went over to Bert's shop to pick him up for lunch. He is so devoted to his business, that he rarely takes time out for lunch, but as a concession to me, he did so. Afterwards, he went back to the shop, and I went off to the movies to see "Hairy Ape”. It was a fairly interesting film. Wm. Bendix was perfect in the title role and Susan Hayward was just too sweet-looking to be entirely convincing in her unsympathetic role, and I do think the direction was putrid, but as I said, it was a fairly interesting picture - no more. It might have been very good with more clever handling, though.

After the show, I headed back to the shop, where I "batted the breeze" with Bert until he closed up. I might have gone back with him, but I was afraid I might not be able to get a taxi later to take me to the parking lot to catch the truck, so I thought it a better idea to spend the intervening time here, and get this off to you at the same time.

Well honey, that's that for this furlough. I can't truthfully say I enjoyed every minute of it, but the “high spots,” such as meeting Limey, the time I spent with Bert and Evelyn, the films I saw, etc., more than compensated me for the monotony of hours of riding on trains. Then, too, I did see quite a bit of England during the course of my travels, so all in all, I am very pleased with the way it all turned out. My only regret is that I didn’t get to see Eddie S. this trip.

Believe it or not, sweet, I’m rather eager to get back to camp. Can you guess why? That's it - I can hardly wait to see how many letters have accumulated for me this past week, I fully expect the next one to inform me that Eddie is either home, or on his way. I can hardly wait to see what you have to say about that!

I am most acutely aware, darling, that it is only nine days to the punkin’s second birthday. Before leaving, I instructed Red to have Adele's present ready for me when I got back. He promised to do so, and I don't think he’ll disappoint me, so I'll be sending it along tomorrow.

Please excuse the delay if it's a few days late getting there, honey. As you know, I would have sent it off more than a week ago if Red hadn’t spoiled the first one. In the meantime - tell Adele that daddy's present to her is on the way, and kiss her for me.

My thoughts have been with you almost constantly this past week, sweetheart, and I often found myself wishing that you were by my side. Good-night for now, sweet Chippie—I adore you. My love to all.

Forever, 

Your Phil

Post #513 - November 18, 19, 1944 Eddie Gave My Folks a Pretty Good Idea of What He Went Through and It’s Really a Miracle That He’s Alive and Limey’s Company Were All Wounded in France, and Very Few of Them are in Any Shape for Further Soldiering

 

This is what the house looks like today that corresponds to the address on the stationery above from Philip—20 Barn Hall Avenue, Old Heath, Colchester, England 

November 18,1944

Dearest Phil

I haven't anything to do at the moment (I'm at work) and decided to type a few words to you. I can't think of anything exciting to say, so I'll just gab about this and that - okay.

I don't think I’ve told you that my cousin Bella is getting married sometime in December. Which also reminds me that Miriam Brown is in her ninth month and her baby is due sometime in December. She, by the way, is carrying very nicely, being small and well rounded. She looks grand and feels well, too. I think she's going to have a boy. Don't know why I feel that way, - just a feeling. If it is a boy, she'll name it Richard Allen (which is her choice at the moment, but don't quote me).

Today is Richard Arcaro's second birthday and I intend to get him a little gift. Fay works at the boy's Dept. of Blauner's on Saturdays only (til Xmas ) and promised to get me something at 20% off. She can't get me anything beside that this year, as the rules regarding discount are too strict. Last year, if you will recall, I bought myself slips, panties, bras and bedroom slippers. I would do a repeat this year, if she got me the discount, as I need a supply of all those items, but since she cannot, I shall buy them gradually.

I don't think I told you, either, that Goldie took Diana to a skin specialist and he said the condition was nothing at all - just something that some kids go through. He did say that the mother (Goldie) is extremely nervous and gets aggravated too easily, Goldie spent one morning crying her eyes out, cause the baby's skin was so bad and nothing seemed to help it. Now that the doctor has reassured her she has more or less resigned herself to the fact that you go through a lot before you raise them up.

Nov. 19, 1944

There was no mail for me and I was naturally depressed. Eddie called long distance, but won't say where he is, nor when we can visit him. He doesn't even want us to write to him. He gave my folks a pretty good idea of what he went through and it's really a miracle that he's alive, from what I can gather. I also got the impression that he's "playing" a little for the benefit of the Army and wonder if I'm right. Is that what you meant in your letters?

I got the cutest little cocoa brown and tweed suit for Richy and Anne rather liked it. However, let me start at the beginning. When I left work, I went up to Blauner's and selected the gift. From there I caught the subway home and stopped at the Cameo Shop on Broad St. to buy myself some hose. Once home, I had lunch, did a few little things, picked Adele up at my mother's and headed for the shoemaker's to take out her shoes. We stayed out a while and then I brought her in, and started to prepare her dinner. I got her to bed rather early for a change and then I washed quite a few things and then ironed. When I had finished I was pretty tired, but I went over to Fay's to pick up the little suit and went over to Anne's, I stayed at Anne’s til 11. While there (many of her relatives were just leaving when I got there) she got me interested in a bottle of Avon toilet water called "Attention". Her cousin had brought her three bottles, though she had only ordered one (her cousin sells the stuff) and she just had to take all three. So I took one bottle off her hands. The "stuff" has a nice, clean, sweet smell and only cost me $1.39.

I went right to bed, once arrived at home. Adele woke at 4 A. M, and then again at 6:30, so I didn't have too much sleep. I've been rather busy all day today, but i'm just about finished now. Adele is wheeling her doll carriage to and fro while I endeavor to bang off a letter to you and it is becoming extremely difficult, hence the many errors. Sorry I must dash tike this, sweetheart, but that's how it is with kids.

I'm going out to see Dot & Snuff this evening and will tell you all about it when I see you next. (Guess I slipped, eh?). Must close now, dearest, so am doing so with a big, big hug and kiss and all the love of

Your Eve

19 Nov. 1944 

Dearest Ev,

On this dreary Sunday afternoon I am at the Woolfs, where I arrived about two hours ago. We just finished lunch. Bert had a date with Dave Dee to go riding and they left about a half hour ago. Evelyn is washing the dishes after feeding Nigel and getting him out in the pram. —So, I am left to my own devices, and what better device than to write to you, my Sweet. - But let me begin at the beginning. - When I wrote last, I was in the Gloucester Red Cross club. You know already what I had done up ’til then, so l will go on from there. There was a dance at the club, so I looked on ’til about 10:30, when I went to bed. It was a pretty poor exhibition, as dances go. The G.I.'s were, except for a few exceptions, very poor dancers. The girls, if anything were worse. Most depressing of all, though, was the appearance of the girls. They were a slovenly, drab, and awkward lot, and I thought the G.I.'s must be pretty hard up to even want to dance with them. I got fed up watching and left.

Next morning, I was up early, ate breakfast at the club, and repaired to the R.R. station, where I waited about half an hour for the train to Swindon. Arrived there, I waited around some more for the bus to Shrivenham. That is where I had been told I would find Harry. The town itself is tiny, but the camp is immense. It consists of many brick buildings of various sizes over an area of a few miles. The place was built in 1938 by the British, and was supposed to be their version of our West Point, but the war intervened, and the Americans took it over as a sort of replacement center. I went directly to the personnel headquarters, where, to my great relief, I found that Harry was still there. The Sgt. who was helping me called "C” company, which was the company to which Harry was attached. He was informed that Harry was out to dinner. It was just 12 noon, and I was famished, so I headed for the mess-hall myself. Limey was to be given the message to report to the personnel office when he come back from dinner.

The mess-hall is immense. There must have been between four and five-hundred G.I.'s there, but on opening the door, the very first person I saw was - the Limey! Can you imagine that, honey?! He was sitting sideways to me, but some instinct made him turn his head, and we saw and recognized each other simultaneously, Well, Chippie, you can well imagine how we felt, what we talked about, etc., etc. I know you and the folks want to know how he looks, so I'll give you my impression. He looks just about like I remembered him. His face is a bit drawn, but otherwise he is the same old Limey. Not so backwards, perhaps, and with a new self-confidence, but essentially the same. His injuries are nothing to worry about - a bit of shrapnel in his right shoulder, and a bothersome left ankle, which was fractured and is very slow to heal. So I spent all that day with him, and all the next day, and left only the next morning because he was due to leave shortly. There is much, much more I could tell you, Sweet, about what he told me of his experiences; of the adventures and wounds of his buddies; how brave, and disillusioned; and lonely, and homesick they all are, but that will have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say that I saw and talked with Limey, and saw and learned much of interest. As to where Limey is bound - I really don't know what to think. Despite the fact that they were all paid in francs, I can’t believe that they are going back to France. They were all wounded over there, and very few of them are in shape for further soldiering. They are all re-classified as "Limited Service" now, so it is conceivable that they will be used in various capacities for behind the lines, but even that seems too much to ask of them.

I took my leave of Limey yesterday morning (18th) and caught a hop into Swindon. There, I inquired after trains to Carmethran, where Eddie S. is supposed to be stationed. I found that it meant a seven to eight-hour trip, and because I was most reluctant to undertake another long trip, and my funds were running low to boot, I decided to let it go, for the time being. Accordingly, I booked for London, which was only an hour-and-a-half from Swindon. I killed the rest of the day seeing a coupla pictures in London. They were “San Diego, I love you" with Louise Albritton, Jon Hall and others. It was a nice, refreshing swift-moving comedy. I liked it. The other half of the bill was Gloria Jean in "Reckless Age". This one wasn't too hard to take, either. Then I saw "Rainbow Island" with D. Lamour, Eddie Bracken, and Gil Lamb. This one was very corny, indeed, and wouldn't have been worthwhile at all were it not for the beautiful settings in technicolor.

After supper, at Isow's, where I had potato latkes (of all things), marinated herring and hamburger (Jew style), and the best rye bread I’ve tasted in the ETO, I went to the Hans Crescent Club, where I booked a bunk for the night. It was then 9 o'clock, so I stopped in the ball-room to watch the dancers 'til bed-time. However, I was more tired than I thought cause about an hour later I found myself getting very drowsy - so I picked myself up and went to bed. I slept like a log until 9:00 this morning, when I rose, dressed, and headed for Liverpool St. Station. The train to Colchester was held up all along the line, and finally pulled in a full hour late! I called the Woolfs directly I arrived to see if they were home. Evelyn answered the phone and told me to come on out. It took me a full hour, ’cause the bus was so long coming (I didn't have even two shillings left for a cab!), but I finally got here. Evelyn let me read your letter to her and Bert, Sweet, and I must tell you how proud it made me to read it. They thought it a “lovely" letter. I fully agree. Ev feels badly that she hasn't had the time to write to you, but she will. She thanks you for the bottles and "teats” and the rattle, and is making good use of all items. It may please you to know, darling, that Nigel gets all excited, and laughs aloud when someone shakes the rattle for him. But Bert talked Evelyn out of the candy-bar that was meant for me, and I made out like I was real mad about it. Serves me right for not opening the package before turning it over to them!

Well, honey, I don't have to be back in camp 'til tomorrow night, so I guess I'll loaf around Colchester 'til then. And ’til then, I'll say a very fond good-night. I adore you, my Chippie. A kiss and a hug for my very own punkin. Love to all. Harry sends his love to all.

Always,
Your Phil

Post #512 - November 17, 1944 I Know You Are Anxious to Learn My Reaction to the New Offensive

 

Nov. 17, 1944

My dearest,

I am utterly disgusted with the mail situation. In fact I'm so disgusted that I also skipped writing this evening for fear I would put my true feelings on paper. Since it is rather late and I’ve more or less gotten over my “down in the dumps” feeling, I thought I'd get off my daily letter.

We did have a letter today from "Sgt. Jack Strongin". Yes, he finally got his Sgt. stripe and sounds very happy about the whole thing. I was wondering at this point, whether or not you would ever make Sgt. I know it's a sore spot with you, but after all, honey, I do realize that it's the breaks you get. Jack's job is practically the same as yours, as far as I understand it and if he can get Sgt. why are you so sure that Cpl. is the only rating that goes with your job? Have any ratings been passed out in your outfit during the past few months! You needn't bother answering me, if’n you don't care to.

Still no word from Eddie and we are patiently waiting for some word from him.

Ruth got herself a job at the Lerner shop and starts work, tomorrow, just for the Christmas holidays.

I didn't get the opportunity to mail off the chocolate as yet, but they are packed and just about ready to be mailed.

I worked more hours this past week than I've ever worked before. I put in 40 hours, counting my four hours tomorrow, which will give me a gross pay of $28.00. It's pretty good, don't you think? However, every single dollar of it is spent already, so I'm broke before I even get started. Dot got my new dress out and I must pay her the balance of $3. I'm going out to Dot's on Sunday evening, as Snuff expects to be home this coming weekend. They are going out on Saturday evening, so I felt it would be better if I went out on Sunday, and see him just before he leaves.

I was late this month, being "due" on the 14th. Yesterday evening I felt rotten and got to bed early. Adele let me sleep all night through, for which I was mighty grateful.

I know you are anxious to learn my reaction to the new offensive,* Perhaps it will shorten the war, but it makes me shudder to think of all the lives involved. If only this war would soon be over - -

I never thought I'd fill this sheet, but it just shows to go you what you can do once you set your mind to something. And, of course, you know what's next - right! I adore you, angel and just adore being

Your Eve

*November 11, 1944 (Saturday)

Iwo Jima was bombarded by the U.S. Navy. The last remaining German troops in Greece withdrew from the country. German submarine U-771 was torpedoed and sunk in Andfjord by British submarine Venturer. German submarine U-1200 was depth charged and sunk south of Ireland by British warships.

Post #511 - November 16, 1944 I Made Up My Mind Once and for All to Make the Chocolate Chip Cookies I Once Promised to Make for You

 

Dearest Phil,

Last night, on my way home from work, I made up my mind, once and for all (and since Uncle Sam fixed the oven door) to make the chocolate chip cookies I once promised to make you. The chocolate chips had been in the refrigerator for months and I was anxious to get them made. So - o - o I got right to work as soon as Adele was asleep.

Well, baby, you can expect a tin can of the most delicious chocolate chip cookies you ever did taste and I made them all by my widdle self. It's as easy as falling off a log; or easier. I didn't get to bed till after 11 and that's pretty good, considering. I shall make up the package this evening and send them right off. I sure do hope they reach you in good condition and I shall pack them very carefully. I had about 125 cookies in all, which was more than the recipe called for. The recipe called for 100.

There hasn't been any mail since Monday and I guess there is no need to tell you my feelings in this matter. Every single one I know has had mail of November dating, except me. I'm just hoping you are writing regularly - Do you realize, sweet, that today is the 16th and my last letter from you was dated Oct. 26th? That's more than three weeks, and to my way of thinking that isn't good at all. Let's hope tomorrow's mail will be stacked high for me. Don't let me kid you - I'll be satisfied with one little letter, even though I should like to have a stack.

Phil, I just wish you could hear your daughter rattle bff "Little Bo-Peep" - the whole saying! Of course you'd have to understand her enunciation in some instances, but on the whole, I'm sure you'd understand what she was saying. She can also rattle off "Jack and Jill, went up the hill,” etc.

Clara Wagman called while I was making the cookies last night to inform me that she had received your letter. I thought I had told you that she was Mollie's sister-in-law. In fact, I'm sure I told you something of their relationship. I've asked Clara up for dinner and she promised to be up during the last week of November. I'm almost out of vitamin pills and she's supposed to bring me the bottle of 500.

Adele was very restless again last night and I had little sleep. Strangely, I don't feel nearly as tired now as I did before I used to take the vitamins. By the way, remember those new shoes I bought for Adele? She wore them only one week and they needed new heels. Now they have to be taken into the shoemaker's again for new heels.

We haven't had any further word from Eddie, but I'm fairly sure we'll have some mail within the next few days. I see I've just about hit the bottom, so I'll close now, sweet, with all my love and a great big kiss.

Your Eve