I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
This morning, immediately upon arising, I noted a heavy snow over all. Adele got all excited and said, "Mommy don't forget to put my yoshes on". She got me up early and I accomplished quite a bit this morning. I cleaned our room and straightened every drawer, taking out those belongings of Adele's that have become too small. After lunch I had to go to Mr. First's to do some typing for him and I shovelled the front enough to make a path. By the time I got back, Adele was up, so I dressed her, brought her down and started this.
Here's some news: Yale and Shirley are expecting the stork in July. I was kidding Jack S. in the last letter I wrote to him and said perhaps we’d give him a run for his money when it came to having a little boy. (and whatever you do - don't get any ideas). Who knows??????????
I did some shopping yesterday after work and bought myself two pairs of gloves - a pair of white fabric gloves for dress that cost $3 and a pair of copper colored gloves to match my bag and oxfords that cost $2.25. When I got home I found that the white gloves were damaged, so I will have to return them tomorrow,
(Goldie and Mom are after Adele, making her say that she wants "a baby broder") and I can't help laughing. Tain't funny, McGee.
Well, honey, next week in this time I’ll be in New York. I may not get the opportunity to write while I'm there, so if there is a slight holdup in my mail you’ll understand why. I am going to catch a one or two o'clock train after work on Saturday (I want to collect my pay before I go) and expect to catch an 11 o’clock train on Monday morning, and go straight to work. I don't want to lose the extra day, for I don't feel that I'll accomplish anything much or be able to do anything much on Monday. I may stay all day Monday, but that remains to be seen. I know one thing - I shall enjoy being able to sleep to whatever hour I choose (I hope). I wonder if I'll ever be able to sleep to whatever hour I choose?!
Today I am wearing an aqua sloppy joe sweater that Ruth loaned me, but I don't think you'd particularly like me in a sloppy joe. I am also wearing my brown slacks. I like to lounge??? in slacks on my day off?????
I really intended to write a "longie" today, but, somehow, I just can't think of enough to say, so I decided to do this instead. Well, baby mine, it will soon be 18 months since I've seen you and God only knows how much longer we will have to wait. Syd Brown is unattached at the present, so I guess he’ll be home most any day now. In closing, let me tell you once more, darling, that I love you very, very much and I want you so much! Adele calls you “Daddy Philip" and sends her love, a hug and many kisses. She's so darn cuddly that you'd just about eat her up. I shall positively have her picture made when I return from N.Y.
Today's mail brought me six letters, and a Xmas card from Ruth, and I don't have to tell you that it is only an event of this nature that has the power to instill a feeling of happiness in me, While I'm reading your letters, Sweet, I'm almost at peace with the world. Believe me, it's a distinct let-down for me when I have finished reading and I pick up the old hum-drum routine where I have left off! You still haven't lost that trick of writing just as you would speak, and the impression I get while reading your letters is more like listening than reading. When I read the last few words it is just as if you had stopped talking. You say, darling, in one of your letters, that you hardly remember what I look like. Be that as it may, I find that I can’t say the same where you are concerned. I not only remember very well what you look like, I remember everything about you. (Perhaps too well!) I remember the fragrance of you, or rather, three separate fragrances about you. The first is that unaccountable “baby smell" about you in your early morning drowsiness, Remember how I used to remark about it? The second is your "afternoon aroma.” This odor I identified as a conglomeration of powder, lipstick, rouge, and the fragrance of a freshly pressed blouse, slip, or what have you. The third is your “going out”, which, if you remember, was wont to bewitch me and intoxicate my senses (if I may call my animal impulses by that name) to such a degree, that on a few occasions it proved a cause for embarrassment (yours). Remember, Chippie? But what I started to say was - I remember everything about you, so that when I “listen” to your letters, I hear your voice. Maybe you see nothing strange or wonderful in this phenomenon, Baby. You may consider it, in fact, entirely natural. Why, then, is it only your letters “speak” to me, and no one else’s? At this rate, though, I won't get any of your letters answered, and because nothing of particular interest happened to me today, I'll get right after it.—Four of the six letters were yours, Baby. They are those of 6 Dec., 7 Dec., 8 Dec., and your “longie” of 9-10 Dec. The other two were a very nice letter from Clara Wagman, and an exciting V-mail from Milt Brown. I’m dying to know exactly where he is, but I just can't place him by anything he has written. I must try to get letters off to both him and Clara. Incidentally, Ev, I've fallen behind in my correspondence again, and I'm seriously considering resorting to the expedient of spending my next 48-hour pass right here on the base in order to catch up with it. My regular routine day allows me time for no more than your letter, so you can readily understand why this is the only way. I may not have time to answer all your letters tonight, honey, but I'll do what I can ’til "lights out"
Your letter of the 6th tells about Abe Feinberg's duplicity in the matter of your mother's estate. There's a jerk for you! Then, a few paragraphs about Eddie's reluctance to have you visit him. I think I know exactly why he has adopted this attitude, Chippie, and I'm surprised that you even wonder about it. Surely, my letters about him should give you a pretty good idea for his conduct. I hope, Sweet, that by the time this reaches you, that you will have seen him and that it will all come clear for you. I was glad to learn that Goldie is giving you a hand more frequently with the household chores.
In your letter of the 7th you enclosed that "chunky" pin-up girl, and stated that you "Sure do wish I looked like that!" Who ya kiddin’, honey? You know damned well that I don't go for that type of figure - that, as a matter of fact, your own slim lines suit me right down to the ground, and are much preferred to the ones you appear to envy. I say "appear,” ’cause you don't fool me for a minute, Chippie. You were fishing for compliment - and caught it, and I hope your feminine vanity is gratified. If it isn't - well, we're pretty young yet, and I still have a coupla thousand words on the subject up my sleeve - so just have patience, Baby, and they'll be forthcoming. With this pleasant thought, I'm afraid I must sign off for the time being. I'll continue answering your letters tomorrow. ’Bye now, sweetheart. My love to the punkin - and all.
More than ever— Your Phil
January 6, 1945
Dear Phil,
Each time I write to you after I’ve visited your home, I say to myself I’ll make this one a super special letter, because you do need cheering up. Hell, man, I’m the guy that needs the cheering up. You know Phil, it would be hell for you to come and then have to go away again, because it’s almost that for me. If I were you I wouldn’t.
Phil, you’ve something real to return to. If everyone were in your position there never would be another war, ’cause when they came back for good they’d always be happy.
I’ve seen the punkin’. She’s all girl. I mean that were her hair parted and combed like a boy’s and were she to wear trousers and such, she still couldn’t pass as a boy. She already has that definite a feminine personality that it’s amazing. My heart bleeds for you chum, for having had this period of her life only through Evelyn’s eyes, even though you do have the most wonderful substitute.
Still I can’t help but repeat that when you do resume your real life you will be loaded with happiness and the bubble will never burst, but make of itself, amoeba like, smaller ones.
Evelyn is doing grandly, too, Phil. She looks and feels swell, and is sustained by your constant presence, when certain things like her friends tough luck try to wear her down. She believes in you so implicitly, you are indeed to be complimented as is she for being your inspiration.
Your Mom was just swell to me as always. She’s a wonderful woman, Phil. She’s holding up very nicely under a terrific burden, and don’t you for a second lose sight of that. Somehow I feel I am being superfluous, ’cause you must realize all this yourself. Still I had to say so.
Harry and Goldie, in their way I guess, will be happy. They’re different, by our standards, but they’re different together, so that they’re seemingly not different at all.
I thought I’d talk about one other thing that stands out to me, no two. The first is Eddie’s return. He’s 98% normal. When he’s talked enough about his awe-inspiring adventure, that is when he is here long enough so that he’ll not speak any more of them, except casually, he’ll be 100% normal. I really did enjoy seeing and hearing him.
The other is my date with Ev when we went to see “Mrs. Parkington.” The picture and the company had me in one of the most wonderful of mellow moods I’ve ever experienced. I hope Ev felt the same way. I think she did. If so I’ll accept your thanks right this minute if you please. Of course as we joined Eddie and his girl friend for sandwiches and malteds, we were both very conscious of the fact that you weren’t with us, but who cared. We returned home to ponder the problem of my getting married and how and if and when and Denver and business, we would all get together after the war. When Ev and I are along like that the situation becomes perplexing. I need your support to parry her breaking down of my points. So hurry the hell up and come home.
I’m in Kansas City now and I’ve made no attempt to contact Marilyn. (This is her home and she asked to to look her up.) I guess I do love Marjorie. I’ve bought a setting and have had one of Mom’s stones, the biggest, put into it. It makes a lovely engagement ring. I hope she can see her way clearly. If so, Marge will accept it. I’ve met her folks. They’re swell but I don’t know if they know that I’m serious. I’ll find out.
I’ll have to quit soon to catch my train back to Chickasha and Marjorie.
My ear is going to be O.K. I’ll let you know when I can say it is O.K. I’m 95% recuperated and only a violent jar or very rapid head movement can cause a slight dizziness that passes in a second.
Don't have time enough tonight to write a full-fledged letter, so I’m resorting to V-mail. I was supposed to have this morning off on accounta I pulled CQ last night, but I had so much to do, that I just couldn't take time off. Believe it or not, Chippie, I haven't even found the time to wash since yesterday morning. I managed to dispose of the Soldiers’ Deposits and PTT’s today and knock out a few letters, indorsements, etc., but I still have the Company History to do. It's due tomorrow, so I'll have to work pretty late tonight to get it done. That's why I can only spare you a few minutes right now - and I probably couldn't do that, if it were not for the fact that I’m waiting for Sgt. Yahner to get back from supper. I want him to straighten out an apparent discrepancy in the notes that Sgt. Sinneway gave me. While I was sweating him out, it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to let you know that your ever lovin' hubby is very much alive and kicking (but frequently) on this 4th of January. Today was a very nice one - clear and sunny - but cold! There was no mail for me today, so I don't guess I could have said much more, anyway.
Keep punchin,’ Baby, and always keep in mind that ever-present fact that is responsible for all your troubles today:
Your Phil
loves you
P.S. My love to the punkin - and all.
Jan. 5, 1945
Ev, darling,
Here I am again with V-mail. I want to make the first show to see "Wing and a Prayer”, and I don't have too much time. Besides, there was no mail again today, and I really have very little to say.
All day today was spent compiling, writing, and typing the Company History. By working steadily at it, I managed to get it done by 5 o’clock, which was the deadline.
The weather is uncomfortably chilly, and it's not too pleasant to walk back and forth from the Mess Hall. At night, I barely manage to stay warm by covering up with four blankets and my overcoat. In the morning, it takes a bit of will-power to get out from under the warmth of the blankets to brave the chill atmosphere of the hut while I scramble into my clothes.
However, all these minor physical inconveniences are as nothing compared to an overwhelming feeling of loneliness that assails me from time to time. It seems, Sweet that I'll never, never get used to being without you. Nothing in the world seems to hold any significance or importance for me anymore—outside the ever more desirable actuality of holding you close to my heart that loves you so. So long for now, Baby. Kiss “my little girl” for me.
Your Phil
Jan. 5, 1945 from Milt Brown
"OUR SANDY CLOTH”
Anything goes with it. You can tie pretty bows with it, Wipe off you nose with it, Dust off your clothes with it,
Patch up your hose with it,
Scare many crows with it
Truce all your foes with it, Cover ol’ man Mose with it, Keep away woes with it,
Useful isn’t it?
You can make a sarong if Lamour isn’t handi.
We’ve already sent one to Mahatma Ghandi.
You can color it red and drive a bull crazy.
Sit in the park on it when you are lazy.
It’s a kite or a bib, in a pinch a bandanna.
You can use it to decorate any piano.
It makes a nice bras or a real nifty snood.
You can cover almost anything. but let's not be rude.
Makes an arty ample apron,
Or a dainty darling diaper, And a tiny tidy towel, Or a wicked window wiper.
It's for wiping off lipstick just after kissin’.
It's even a shirt tail if yours should be missin'.
Share it with Mother and Father and friends. It's useful for baby at both of his ends.
You can play games with it, blindfold your face,
Drop the handkerchief, three legged race.
It could replace a filter if ya wanna be scientific,
And if ya stop to think, the possibilities are terrific.
Ya can write on it things you don't wanna forget.
It’s a quick pen wiper or a pingpong net.
It's a scarf if you're cold. And a fan if you’re hot.
It can almost be anything
You ain't got.
It's a collar for doggie,
A band for your hat,
A dress for the dolly.
Or a play house door mat.
Clean the windows,
Bandage your eyes
Polish your shoes,
Wavy G’Bye.
It’s quite correct in your dinner jacket,
Or in your ears when there's too much racket,
It’s nice enough on the wall to tack it.
Tie up your lunch in it when you go hiking,
Tie up your pants with it when you go biking, Or even just a tie.
Makeup taker offer,
A nose blower inner A vegetable wrapper upper,
A napkin at dinner.
For Benito and Adolph wrap up "Micky Fin" and make ’em drink lots of “Exlaxis." For the Japs a Bronx Cheer and a “Merry Miss-mas” and a “Happy New Jeer” to the Axis.
It’s only a handkerchief. Courtesy of Mickey Wyman through Stage Door Canteen
Am starting this at work, as there is a lull and want to get off to an early start. I caught up even further on my correspondence, by getting off letters to Snuff and Maxie Brown. Now I owe Red a letter and then everyone will owe me a letter.
This afternoon, before getting to work, I stopped at the wholesaler for some handbags that Mr. Bellet had recommended on Saturday, His first comment was, "Why did you wait till after Xmas. I haven't much of a selection now and you'll have to take what's left, if you like it". He said I could have anything I wanted, and after showing me skeenteen bags I settled for only two - a nice black leather one for Mom and a copper colored leather envelope bag for me to go with my copper colored oxfords. Mom's bag is also an envelope bag, but it is a nicer style than mine. When you consider that I only had to pay $4 a piece for them and no tax (you don't pay a 20% tax when buying wholesale) I think I did pretty good. He told me he would have an entirely new selection in about a month, so I'll stop up at that time and see what I can get for my mom and something for me in a black bag.
As it is, this copper bag is one of the largest I've ever possessed. It's supposed to be genuine leather and sells for a few dollars more retail.
I have high hopes of hitting a "huge jackpot" upon my arrival home, for when you consider that the last letters received from you a few days ago were those of the 6, 7 and 9 Dec. then you know why. Do you realize, sweet, that in almost three weeks I've had but one mail consisting of but three letters! Now that's what I call bad, especially for my morale.
You know, honey, Mom finally owned up that the best thing I could ever have done was go back to work. When I’m home from work and must keep Adele at 4906, it works on everyone's nerves, but mostly mine. Adele was a regular little demon yesterday and I wound up giving her a good licking. Adele tried to smack Diana twice, in her childish way, which, naturally, made Goldie very nervous. I can't blame her for I would be nervous under like circumstances. Adele simply would not listen to reason and I took her upstairs and made her play in her crib, Mom said if I were home all the time, between Adele and Diana she would go crazy. I haven't suggested my plan to give up the place as yet, for several reasons. The settlement of my grandmother's estate seems to be muddled up again. I want everything to be smooth once I go back, and that, especially. Secondly, there is the possibility that Harry may be drafted, if the new ruling is any criterion. All 4-Fs are scheduled to be called up again in an effort to show this nation this is a total war. I'm waiting until I feel the moment is right, even if it does mean a few months, So if I don't mention the subject, you'll understand. With Goldie giving a lift, Mom has nothing to do but prepare the dinner and wash the dishes and so is more or less taking life easy. The doctor has advised her not to poke her nose out of the house all winter in an effort to keep her from becoming ill, as she generally does each winter.
Upon arriving home, I found nothing but my check. Need I add how disappointed I am? Mom liked the bag and was quite surprised to receive a gift; why, I don't know. The enclosed sheet shows Adele's recent scribblings. She wrote the "Daddy" with my help. Good night, Sweetheart, I adore you so much! I wish very much that I'll at least hear from you tomorrow. And now I want to draw you so close and hug and kiss you - that's better. I love you dearly, Phil.
Your Eve
3 January 1945
Dearest Evvie,
Quite a few months have gone by since I last typed a letter to you, but because I am CQ tonight (the typewriter being at my disposal, therefore), and because I am now sufficiently proficient on the machine to make better time than I would writing longhand, I thought I'd, well, you know --
Today, a very busy one for me, brought me your letter of 11 December. It contained, beside your letter of course, Carmella's picture and Spike's V-mail Xmas greeting. Carmella (I wonder how old she is now?) is not pretty, I agree, but I think the picture doesn't flatter her. Of course, dearest one, I'm send ing it back "immediately." (far be it from me to ignore the vehemence of your command, or to risk arousing your ire by disregarding it!!).
There was also a very friendly V-mail from Gloria, dated 26 December. I'll have to make a special effort to answer her soon. - Which reminds me that I have still to answer Dot’s and Snuffy's letters. I'll try to find the time for that, too, one of these days. It must be difficult for you to understand, Chippie, why I have so little time to spare for correspondence, but such, you may take my word for it, is the case. If I have time to dash off a letter to you each night I count myself fortunate, no kiddin'! I still have to find a spare hour or so to answer Mom's letter. Until I do, though, give her my best love.
Your letter today is a mixture of happy news and unhappy news. In the latter category are the details of the circumstances surrounding Betty's death. Poor Sol, whet he must be suffering! - Not to mention all the Gutkins and Genshafts and Brands. I was considering writing to Max and Frada and Anne, but I just couldn't bring myself to a task that would, in all likelihood, bring a resurgence of their grief. I'm hoping they will understand and condone my silence.
The "happy" news, thank God, is more plentiful. I was delighted to learn that you received a "stack" of my mail. If my letters mean as much to you as yours do to me, then I'm sure they must have made you feel pretty good. And if you, my sweet, feel pretty good about anything whatever, well, I feel pretty good just knowing about it - ketch? Your mention of my letter about my meeting with Harry W. reminds me that I have still to hear from him. I don't even know where he is anymore! Let me know as soon as you have word of him, will you, Baby?
So my precious daughter calls her daddy by his first name, eh? Being merely her mother, darling, I wouldn't expect you to be able to appreciate what a real thrill that bit of news is for yours very lovingly. Truth to tell, I had been wondering whether her education had gotten that far along. It's heartening to be thus reassured that it has. Incidentally, Sweet, is my "little girl", as you now choose to call her, aware of her dad's own nickname for her? I may be wrong, but I feel that it will be quite a few years before I will feel like calling her anything but “punkin". So, if she is ignorant of this, I think it might be a good idea to acquaint her (by means best known to you) with my designs on her dignity. I think it only fair to warn her so that she may give some thought to defending a true lady's most precious possession - her dignity. You must admit, Chippie, that the appellation I choose to call her by is a serious deterrent on any designs she may have towards sophistication. Perhaps that is the real reason for my desire to know her as my “punkin". I think that subconsciously, or instinctively, I dread the day when she will be old enough to convincingly wear the mantle of reserved sophistication because that happenstance suggests to my all too impressionable mind that I will be excluded from her thoughts and confidences, and the mere thought of such an eventuality depresses me beyond my power to explain to you. But I didn't mean to go morbid on you, Baby - it's just another confession of some of the screwy thoughts that your hubby is heir to at odd moments. As to that your suggestion that she is no longer a baby, but that the best I can hope for is that she will one day be "my little girl", allow me to put your mind at ease, darling. The plain truth is (and you must have suspected it) that I much prefer "my little girl" to "my baby". As a matter of fact (and this may surprise you) I don't remember ever wanting or even visualizing a "baby girl"! What I adored and hoped to reproduce was the image of Barbara as a little girl between the ages of two and five years. I don't even remember what Barbara looked like at eight months or a year! So you see, Chippie, shameful as it may seem in your eyes, I wanted å "baby girl" only because she would one day be "my little girl". I'm not sure that this isn't an altogether selfish viewpoint, but at any rate, if you were tormenting yourself with regrets that I saw very little of my "baby", you may feel much better that I feel as I do. Furthermore, I am supremely confident that I will see and know "my little girl" long before she grows out of that category. While I'm on the subject, I want you to know, Sweet, that I'm awaiting the punkin's next picture with the greatest impatience,
Almost forgot to tell you that this is my first letter of the New Year, honey, and why I couldn't write on either the 1st or 2nd. Come to think of it, I didn't write on the 31st Dec. either. The 31st was New Year's Eve (as if you didn't know.) Klein had been pestering me all day to go to the party at the Dee's, to which we had both been invited, but I hadn't committed myself, 'cause I didn't have a fresh uniform to wear. We stopped in at the Aero Club for a snack, and Klein called the Dees on the phone to tender our regrets. While he was phoning, Sgt. Murphy happened along. I was talking with him when Klein came back - all excited. It seemed that the Dees insisted that we come out, and that there was plenty to eat and drink. Anyhow, to make a long story short, I reconsidered, asked the all-too-willing Sgt. to come along, and put in a call for a cab to take us to town. Unfortunately, all the cabs were "booked" up 'til 1:30 A.M., so we decided to sweat out a ride at the gate. Luckily, we hadn't been waiting fifteen minutes when a cab pulled in to discharge some passengers. It was a lovely night, clear and cold and moonlit. The frost, in some places, was so heavy that it looked like snow in the moonlight. Arrived at the Dees', we were met (and how!) by an English soldier, drunk as a lord, and demanding to know if we were "lantsmen" and generally making a great fuss over us and a nuisance of himself. Inside, where Dave Dee met us at the door with a shot of whiskey apiece, there was another English soldier, two ATS girls, Mr. and Mrs. Dee, Fay, Harry, the professors, Mr. and Mrs. Marks, Mr. Dee's niece, who had come up from London, and his mother. There was a great to-do when we came in. Everyone pressed drinks on us, and Sgt. Murphy was lionized. We were going to have our little joke by introducing him as Sgt. Cohen, and we had talked about it on the way, but trust your absent-minded hubby to give the game away by introducing him by his right name! However, Murph got a helluva lot more attention as the good-looking Irishman that he is than he could ever have received otherwise. Everyone put himself out to be nice to him. Beer, Wine, and Gin was forced upon him faster than he could drink it. Mr. Marks even assayed to sing a chorus of “Irish Eyes", but forgot the words half-way through the piece. Mrs. Marks came through to uphold the honor of the family, though, by finishing it on the piano. Klein, of course, was his usual ebullient self. He "kitzled" "Faigele", made overtures to the rather fast-looking niece, sang jewish songs for the edification of the old lady, danced with everyone, or by himself, mugged all over the place, and thru it all managed to consume prodigious quantities of drinks. Your ever-lovin' hubby, in the meantime, was devoting himself to the many good things to eat. Nor did I for a moment neglect the beer and the wine. I've gotten drunk before on a lot less than I had this night, but for some inexplicable reason, the drinks had no effect whatever on me. Perhaps if I had imbibed some gin, I might have felt it, but if you remember, Chippie, I once had a very unhappy experience with that detestable brew, and the mere smell of it is enough to make me sick, so I wisely stuck to the beer and wine. Klein has the same trouble with gin, but he has no will-power, and he wound up a very, very sick G.I. Murphy, on the other hand, was a revelation! I, myself, brought him five stiff shots of gin, a coupla glasses of beer and wine, and everyone else took special pains to see that he always had a drink in hand. He must have drunk at least as much as Klein, and I was watching him closely, but he might just as well have been drinking water for all the effect it had on him! Well, Chippie, we certainly saw the old year out and the new one in in the prescribed tradition. At the stroke of twelve, we toasted each other in whatever was in our glass at the time, sang "Auld Lang Syne", and shook hands all 'round wishing everyone, a Happy New Year. Klein did the typical thing (for him). He kissed everyone, and by that I mean that he missed no one! When the girls came over to wish me a Happy New Year, I was almost in a panic lest one of them might get any bright ideas about kissing me. I knew that if one did the others would follow suit, and the prospect didn't appeal to me a little bit. Fortunately for me, though, they did nothing more aggressive than shake my hand and hold their heads so that I could kiss them easily if I were so minded. I just shook hands, wished them all a Happy New Year, and pretended not to notice that their lips were so accessible. Murphy adopted the same policy. If I know you, Sweet, you will say that I carried my prudishness a little too far on this occasion, but I abhor promiscuous kissing (always have), and I wasn't having any, thank you, if I could possibly wriggle out of it. The English soldiers and ATS girls took their leave soon afterward, and a little later Mr. and Mrs. Marks said their good-byes. About this time Murphy and I were having our hands full with Klein, who had passed out in the bathroom. The cabbie who brought us had promised to stop for us, but he never showed up. Later, when we had brought Klein around to the point where he could stand, we took off for the cab rank. There just wasn't a cab to be had. However, Klein has had plenty of experience with like stalemates, so when he advised us that our best bet was the police-station, we went without question. Two Bobbies were on duty when we got there. We explained the sityayshun and they told us to have a seat while they rassled up a cab. Within a half hour we were on our way back to base - and that was that! All in all, we had a damned good time. It goes without saying, of course, that I would far rather have spent the evening over an ice-cream soda with you, Baby, but under the circumstances I enjoyed myself far better then I expected.
The next day being New Year's Day, the company was off. Almost every one slept 'til dinner time. Dinner was a repetition of Xmas Dinner - turkey and all the trimmings, only better, 'cause this time the pumpkin pie was edible. In the afternoon, I played pinochle with two of my hut-mates. Supper was out of the question, so, feeling rather drowsy and lazy after the long pinochle session, I decided to take a nap until 7 o'clock, when I intended to get a letter off to you and then take in "Pin-up Girl" at the second show. You know the rest - it's an old story. Klein woke me at 8:00 to go to the movies with him. Nor would he take no for an answer when I told him I wanted to spend what was left of the night getting that letter off to you. I would be lieing (lying?) if I tried to pretend that I was entirely averse to going to the movies. I had missed "Pin-up Girl" the last time it played here, and I was rather looking forward to seeing it, but I must admit that I had to ignore the dictates of my conscience when I passed up writing to go to the movies. For that I must ask your forgiveness, Chippie. Would you feel any better about it if I told you that I enjoyed the picture very much? No, I don't suppose it would - - Maybe if I told you that I felt uneasy afterwards for depriving you of the letter - - No? Well, in that case I can only repeat that I'm sorry about the whole thing. Besides, I think you will agree that this "longie" kinda makes up for it, huh?
It's exactly 12:10 now, Baby, and I'm very tired and sleepy, so I'll say my fondest good-night at this point. I adore you, Ev dearest. A big hug and kiss for the punkin from her
Here it is the first day of 1945 and it's hard to believe that you will be away much longer than we supposed. I didn't get the opportunity to write yesterday, as I went to see Eddie. He certainly does look fine and looks much heavier to me than I ever remember seeing him. He told me many things I hadn't learned from the folks, all of which were most interesting. He definitely does not advise a furlough for you, since he fears that you will lose your present good position and says it is wisest for you to stick it out. As much as I am dying to see you, under the circumstances I feel it would be best not to accept anything but the way we wish it to be. I'm sure you'll be the best judge of that when and if the occasion arrives for such a choice. There are moments when I feel I shall simply put myself and Adele on a plane and fly to you - if only we could! I want so for you to see her now, for she is such a sweet, adorable young lady that I know you'd simply eat her up. At the present moment she is engaged with the following: pencil and paper and is writing a letter to daddy dear. I hope I'll remember to send some of her scribblings along for you to see for yourself when I next send an airmail letter.
I spent New Year's Eve in the following manner: Sylvia, Mom and I played knock rummy till two this morning. I had such a terrible case of the blues that I almost felt myself becoming desperate for want of the sight of you. I guess you're wondering how I got out to see Eddie. Well, Ruth and Ed's girl Ruth went early in the morning and killed a few hours in Phoenixville before they could see him. Brother Jack and I caught the 1:37 train and got up to Ed's room about 2:35. Ed is in the suicide ward and all doors are locked. Jack and I had to knock and knock before we got in and when the ward boy finally opened the door, I said, "Look, buddy, I waited 15 months to see my brother and if you don't mind, l’d like to see him". They creep around that hospital until it gets on your nerves. I swear you could go nuts in such a place! The four of us left the hospital at 4:30 promptly (they are terribly strict now, as one fellow slit his throat last week) and Ed watched us, rather wistfully, leave. We made good time getting back. It rained, but I mean rained, both yesterday and today and the only good It did was to wash the snow away. When I got back I learned that Sonya, Jack N’s aunt was here in Philly and had called. I called, but she had gone out, so I called today. She gave me Jack's phone number and I just finished calling him long distance. He says he feels fine, but they do not know the results of the operation as yet. He expects to be at the hospital for about nine more days and expects to be in New York until the end of January. I'm definitely going to N.Y. the weekend of Jan. 13th and haven't decided as yet whether I’ll stay two or three days, but most likely It will be three. By that time Jack expects to be out of the hospital and will be at Sonya's. Sonya extended an invitation for me to stay with her while in N.Y, if I care to. Jack has to report back to the hospital in Oklahoma for a final examination and after that he'll either go back to duty, or possibly, be discharged. He was so glad to hear from me! He promised to drop me a line and I’ll send his letter along when it arrives. Guess I’ll have to start the new year off with an old phrase - that of "I adore you, my beloved".
There was no mail from you today, though I had expected to hit a belated jackpot. There was but one letter from Gloria. She mentioned having written to you, that she just received another letter and now she owes you another.
Dot called and informed me that Snuff is in the hospital with a bum leg, which was quite a surprise to me. She said he had been complaining that his leg bothered him while he was still at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds and It evidently proved too much for him. She isn't able to say just what is wrong with his leg, but said that he has something on the order of varicose veins. Have you replied to Snuff's letter? I expect to visit Dot next week if she cannot come out. I'd like to shop while I'm out there also.
I sort of caught up on my correspondence today, by writing to Jack S., Milt Brown, Gloria, Lee and Len and now, you, my dearest. Not bad, I think. I owe Maxie Brown a letter, as he sent us a most attractive Xmas card. I haven't yet decided what to give Miriam as a gift, but will try to get my cousin to order two expensive dresses for the kid for me, if she can get them.
I don't know if I told you that my gift to Ruth was a compact - a huge amber plastic one, which she selected herself. I still [owe] each of the Moms handbags, but haven't been able to find some I like at a decent price now. The net is a 20% tax on handbags and there really aren't any decent bags under $7.50, so with tax and all there is quite a large expenditure. I asked Mr. Bellet if he knew anyone who manufactures bags and he sent me to a place right up the street. They are not open on Saturdays, so I'll go there on Tuesday, when I go back to work and perhaps I'll be able to make a selection there.
Adele's vocabulary continues to increases by leaps and bounds. She repeats many nursery rhymes, with such new additions as "Little Boy Blue", *See-Saw, knock at the door, who's there, etc." When I come home from work the first thing she says to me now is, "Helwo Mommy" followed by a "tiss". I particularly love the way she says okay - "o-tay", in fact I like it so much I’ve started using it myself. It's her particular way of saying it that makes it almost sound delicious. She pronounces certainly • "sertanee" and delicious is “ylshus". She calls our next door neighbor, whose name is Mrs, Ochroch. “Missy Otot" and "Mrs. Otot" has suddenly acquired a new name. Even I call her that now. When Adele says something and I ask her to repeat, she answers *No, mommy, just said that", and she won't repeat. I told Adele to tell everyone, or rather wish everyone a "Happy New Year" and that goes for you just as well.
I’m going out to Phoenixville tomorrow to visit Eddie and will spend the evening with Sylvia if I get back early enough. I finished the front and back of Diana's sweater and put the buttonholes on. Only have to make the sleeves and sew the buttons on Room, darling to say once more in the old year that I love you dearly and I want you more than ever.
Your Eve
P.F.C. H. Weinman 33,072,683 18th Chim. Mait. Co.
A-P-O- 667
U.S. ARMY
DEC.-31-1944
France
Dear Phil:
Hya doin. I guess it’s about time you heard from me. As yet I haven’t received any mail since Nov. 6 when I left the Rehabilitation center. As you note by the address I am now in an outfit somewhere’s in France. I spent about a month in replacement centers in France before I hit this place. Everything is O.K. here. We have good food & the best of quarters. We are in the center of the town & living in a Chateau (French Home). I am doing guard duty with two other men & we live a few blocks away in a comfortable room with a stove. The men & officers here are O.K. How are things with you. Did you get back to camp O.K. Too bad I couldn’t spend a few days down your place. The weather down here is about zero rite now. Have you been hearing from home often. I sure would like to know what’s going on. That’s about all the dope rite now. Take it easy.
I am starting this at work, as I had the form in my purse. Goldie called to inform me that there is some mall from you at home and I'm so anxious to see it that I can hardly contain myself. In fact I'm so anxious to know the contents thereof that I've decided to continue on this when I get home.
Upon arriving home, I found your letters of Dec. 6, 7 and 9. For the most part they leave me little to comment on. At any rate here goes! I'm glad you finally received my mother's letter and she received yours today, so it did get here in better time. You spoke about your conversation with Sgt. Falk. When I mentioned his name to Goldie she said that her stepmother's maiden name had been Falk and wouldn't it be funny if they were related. Goldie’s stepmother, incidentally, was her father's first cousin before marriage. Perhaps I'll write the mysterious Strongins, and wealthy ones, too, a letter when I'm in the mood. Don't worry, honey, I'll send a full length picture of Adele along most any week now. I thought I’d wait till after the first of the year, since most of the photographers seem to be rushed. I shall have the photographer come to the house, as I told you in an earlier letter. Your letter of the 7th was lovely, but it made me very downhearted, for some unknown reason. Phil, I am so proud of you! A girl could not ask for more than I have in my choice of a mate - you are so true, devoted and thoughtful that I warm all over just thinking about it. Just as you say the feeling of love has kept you from going astray, so has it been for me. I never do anything before thinking what your conception of that particular thing would be. No, dear, we've not suffered any genuine harm due to our separation and I'm sure we'll more than make up for it once we are together. As I gaze at the date at the head of this letter, it strikes me that today marks the 25th month of Adele's being and almost 17 months since you actually saw her.
Your letter of the 9th told me that you had received Mom's package, the Chase’s and Wymen’s package, and the packages sent by the Label Bureau. I hope, sweet, that you will find time to write to each and every donor, and especially to the Label Bureau as I believe they are awaiting a letter from you. I spoke to Clara last night and she told me that each employee received a bonus of $25 and that a bonus of $15 was sent to each serviceman. She also told me that Molly Reisner bought a house in this neighborhood.
I also had a nice letter from Milt and the effects of war seem to be working on his nerves a bit. Sylvia told me that she had a picture from him and that he looks just half of what he used to be. In a word, she said, he looks terrible. Sylvia asked me to spend N.Y.'s eve with her, as she doesn't want to get into a crowd, but would prefer to spend the evening quietly. Ditto for me, so undoubtedly I'll break the ice and go to the movies. I haven't been to the movies in way over two months, so I think it's time I did take one in. I intend to visit Eddie Sunday afternoon, so my weekend will be rather full. Good night, my darling, I love you dearly. I want so to take you in my arms and tell you that I am
Your Eve
Dec. 29, 1944
Dear Phil:
This makes the third letter I have written you since I received your letter, and I’m trying my best to write to you as often as I can now. I’m feeling fine & hope this letter finds you the same. I just finished writing a letter to Evelyn. I guess you heard about Richard Lieberman & Phil coming in for a furlough. We moved again, and at the present time we are in our new area, but still on the same Island. In one way I sure hated to leave that place, & the natives sure did hate to see us go also. Some of them were even crying as we headed to the boats. It was kinda hot there for a while, as the Japs came in one morning before daylight. They came in through the village, knowing that we would not fire much for fear of killing the natives. It sure was a sight to see what those yellow Japs done to those poor innocent people. They bayonetted, shot women, men & even small children, who did not even have a choice. I’ve read a lot of stories on how cruel & mean they were, but what I saw that morning was even worse than those stories I read. It took a little while before we could get the natives back to our area for safety & then we really opened up on them, and got quite a few of them. We captured a machine gun, mortar, & rifles. We then went through the village, & cleaned it out. It sure made me mad to see what happened that morning, and every yellow Jap I see will be a dead one if its up to me. They look much better that way to me. Our new place is fairly well, & there is also a native village close by here, with more of them here than where we came from. These natives here though are not as good and clean as the other ones were, and we don’t fool around with them too much. We take our laundry down to the village, though, and the women there wash them for us very cheap. That’s one good thing about living close to the village, as you don’t have to wash your own clothes, which sure does suit me fine. We also will be getting our mail here by plane, but our outgoing mail will still be held up till the supply boat comes in and picks it up for us. We practically do the same kind of work here also, stand guard at night, & patrols during the day time. We all take our turns though. We had turkey for Xmas, and it sure was good. How did they treat you boys over there? The news the folks sent me in their latest letter sure did bring me a lot of happiness, as they tell me that Sydney may be getting a 30 day furlough to the States. He sure does deserve one. I sure would love to be there myself, & I’d give anything in the world to see him again, for it sure was a long time since I saw him last. I’m hoping & praying that it won’t be too long before we all will be seeing each other. I bought my girl a nice watch for Christmas with two rubies on each side. The folks got one for me. They say it sells for about $100.00, but they got it for me for $50.00. Well, Phil I’ll close for now as I am out of news. Take good care of yourself. Write you again soon.
