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..
Just got back from seeing the second swell picture in two days. It was “Home in Indiana,” and I certainly enjoyed it.
Received your two V-mails of 3, 4 Jan. this afternoon. You seem to be having trouble with my mail again. I’m sorry, Chippie, but maybe these past few V-mails I have written will make better time getting home.
You say that my November bond is way overdue and ask me to trace it. I think, Chippie, that you could get much better results by writing to the Army War Bond Office, Chicago, Ill. Any letter I might write would take about a month to clear channels. So if it hasn’t arrived by the time you get this, just drop them a line.
It was good of you, Sweet, to write on the 4th - even if, as you say, you were not in the mood.
Sorry to hear that Harry is not doing too well with his business, but I was thinking he’ll be pretty lucky if he can stay out of the Army, now that they are putting the pressure on the 4-F’s.
Was surprised to learn that the punkin knows the whole alphabet. As for her singing - do you actually mean to tell me she can carry a tune?? Forgive me if I seem dubious, but I find it hard to imagine Adele doing some of the things you tell me she does.
Tomorrow, I start my “pass,” which, I have told you, I will spend right here - writing a flock of letters. I still have some of yours which I haven’t found time to answer, but I’ll take care of that in the next day or two - you may depend on it, honey.
Until then, darling, I’ll say my usual fond good-night. Give my love to the punkin and all the family. I love you more than ever, Sweet Chippie! I am
As always,
Your Phil
January 13, 1945
Dear Eve:
Received your letter and I was very glad to hear from you. Has Ed been in on weekends yet. I guess he needs a few more months rest before they let him go. I’ll bet he’ll have some real stories to tell me when we both get together again. It was good to hear that Phil is still stationed in England. I’m sorry I forgot when Adele’s birthday was, but I’ll make it up to her.
The first thing early this morning, the phone rang. Can you imagine how Goldie felt, when upon picking up the receiver, she heard Uncle Nish exclaim, "Syd is back in the States at a port of embarkation and will be home within a week." Gosh, it makes me chill all the way through! He was overseas 31 months - and I wonder how long we shall have to wait for that happy day. I wouldn't want it as Syd has taken it - so it may be a long time. The Browns are so excited they can't contain themselves and I don't blame them one bit. I feel just as happy as they do about the whole thing.
I had started a letter to Milt last night and did not get the chance finish, so I finished off with the good news this morning. I am writing this before going into work, as I doubt whether I'll have the opportunity to write this evening, as I want to pack and give myself some attention in preparation for my trip to New York tomorrow. I'm glad that Syd didn't decide to come this very weekend, for then I would have had to postpone my trip. I want to go with the gang to see him.
By the way, honey, Sylvia tells me that two of her father's bonds, which were supposed to reach him through the mails went lost. Both your Nov. and Dec. bonds are overdue (they were never quite so late before, except at the beginning) and I'm inclined to believe they are lost, for I've heard of several cases within the past few days. I think it would be easier for you to check since you must have some receipt for your payment, but if you would like me to write, kindly advise. I hope that your mail to me hasn't gone lost too, but it could well be the cause for such a lengthy delay. I guess you remember about how many times you wrote during Dec. so let me know, for I have only received about ten letters with Dec. dating. Perhaps the mail will have something to offer today.
Adele's supposed cold has completely disappeared, so it looks very much like I am going to New York, honey. I can't get too excited about it somehow though it is going to a big change and that's what I need most. I shall try to write at least once from New York and if I do not get the opportunity I trust you will understand. Most travel is being cut down and I doubt if most anyone will be able to do any traveling in the future. I haven't any intentions of going anywhere after this, unless I go with you.
Today is brother Jack's birthday, in case you might have forgotten. I’m going to write him a letter and wish him well. I set my hair and got to bed early last night and feel rested today. I intend to do the same this evening. And now I am going to try to get that letter off to Jack. I hope there's mail for me this morning, as it would help my spirits a lot. I love you so much, sweet, and it's so hard to wait indefinitely for some word from you. I miss you sweetheart, and I especially miss the mail that brings
something of you directly to me.
Your Eve
12 Jan. 1945
My Darling,
Just got back from seeing “Janie,” and have just about enough time to dash off a quick V-mail to you. I enjoyed “Janie” very much indeed - just as you did, Honey. Joyce Reynolds is just about the cutest and freshest young thing to hit the screen in a long time, and if ever I saw a natural-born actress, she is just that! Her kid sister was the real hit of the picture with most of the guys, but you know me when I like something or someone; I just can’t see anything or anyone else at the same time - and I liked “Janie!” Right from the start, I felt that I had seen Joyce Reynolds before, but knowing that I hadn’t I was puzzled to account for the feeling. Then, it suddenly occurred to me that she is almost a “dead ringer” for Joan Leslie - at least her smile is almost identical - that’s why she looked familiar. But enough of this—
Today brought me a pile of mail, and it sure is a glorious feeling! There were five of your letters, one from Dotty (plus a midget Bulletin) and a Xmas card from Gloria. I’m about six or seven letters behind in answering your letters, Sweet, but I’ll certainly catch up day after tomorrow when I will write all day (as I did once before in October). I’ll also write to everyone else who has been good enough to drop me a line occasionally. You may expect a real “longie” on the 14th, Baby.
I finished the payroll this morning, and knocked out the “Bond Insurance Schedules” and a few other things in the afternoon. I went to the movie with Klein, who just returned from furlough. And what a furlough!! Chippie, you’d never believe the things that happen to that guy! But it’s time to say good night now, darling, and that I do - with all my love to you and the punkin and all.
No mail whatever, though I had been expecting a belated jackpot after waiting all this time except a lone card from Gloria giving me her phone number and telling me that she will meet me anytime after one when I arrive in New York on Saturday.
Last night, I threw Adele in bed early and though she was awake, I made up my mind to visit Miriam and see the new baby. First I went to the Wymans to pick up the four boxes of candy Rae ordered for me and that I am supposed to take along with me to distribute to those I visit in New York and from there on Al drove Ethel, Rae and me over to the Browns. Mom stayed upstairs with Adele until she fell asleep, so she was no trouble to anyone. Rae and Ethel had not intended going unless Ai drove, as it was freezing out. We got to the Browns house at 9:30 and Sylvia was there, beside the regular Brown family. Miriam doesn't look well at all and it is only a wonder when you consider her strenuous routine. She has to feed the baby everythree hours, cause the baby is terribly hungry all the time. Anita Rae is an enormous baby, and has nice features. She is the image of Mickey and I can't help wonder at the way most first babies look like their daddies. I had asked Tant what I should give her as a gift and she advised cash, so I gave her $5. I also gave her a box of candy. Do you know, sweet, that Mickey made out a Class E allotment for Miriam and she receives $30 additional dollars each month! Every single one of the girls gets anywhere from $30 to $40 per month additional allotment that I know of, and the husbands are no more than Cpls. I realize fully that you have more opportunity than they do in their present state to spend money, but when you admit that you are broke and in the hole, as you did not so long ago, I really can't help wondering why so much of your salary disappears so quickly. Now that you no longer have the opportunity to take extended trips such as those to see Ed and Harry. I trust that you will be able to manage on your salary.
After seeing Anita and all her gifts we went down to the kitchen and had some coffee and cake and got to talking about old times, etc. Al drove Sylvia and me home and I didn't get to bed until about one o'clock. Adele seemed hoarsy during the night and I was afraid she had a cold. Today, however, she was much improved and I rubbed her down with Vicks before putting her to bed this evening. I almost didn't get to go to New York and unless Adele is all well I may not go. It doesn't seem likely though, for she has good resistance.
0ur gas bill for the previous month of Dec. was $43. Mom can't get over it! It's only a wonder - we run our heat as high as 80 to keep the back room warm enough for Diana. We’ve never had such a large bill!
I’m so disgusted with the mall situation that I could scream! Let's hope I'll get something tomorrow, for I'd hate to go to New York without getting any more mail whatever. Good night baby. I love you dearly in spite of all! I wish very much that you were going with me to N.Y.
Your Eve
11 Jan. 1945
Dearest Evvie,
I just finished work for the day, and decided to make today’s contribution a quick V-mail so that I may catch the second performance of the U.S.O. show on the base tonight.
Was busy all day making up the pay-roll, and in the afternoon received your V-mall of 30 Dec, in which you tell of the punkin's rapidly expanding vocabulary. I particularly liked her answer when you asked her to repeat something she had already said. The little minx has a head on her shoulders - no doubt about it!
Glad to learn that you, at least, are keeping up with your correspondence, 'cause I’m way behind in mine. Currently, I owe letters to almost everyone. On the other hand, I have yet to hear from brother Jack, whom I wrote ’way back in October. At any rate, I've definitely decided to write to everyone in a day or two when I am taking my regular 48-hour "break.”
The weather has been very cold these past few days, and it has been snowing every few hours. The landscape is blanketed in just enough snow to cover everything, which isn't exactly an unwelcome change - one gets so tired with the sameness of the scene that any change is by way of being a novelty.
Otherwise, there is very little to report, sweetheart, so I’ll sign off now with my dearest love to my precious wife and daughter. God keep you both well for your adoring
Phil
P.S. Love to all.
11 Jan. 1945
Dearest Darling
Tonight I am C.Q., but while I have plenty of time to write, two factors keep me from knocking out a letter to you - hence the V-mail. (1) I've had a splitting headache all day today. (2) There was no mail. As you know, Sweet, it's very rarely that I am bothered with a headache, and I don’t rightly know the reason for it, unless it is the forerunner of a cold, but it sure did give me hell all day, and it’s still so distracting that I can barely think rationally. I’ve taken a coupla Anacin tablets, and am hoping that by tomorrow it will be gone with any further ill effects.
I was busy all day working with Capt. Crane on personnel records, but it was a real effort to keep my mind on what I was doing.
I've built a nice, hot fire in the stove, and as soon as I finish this I will call the operator to give me a ring at five o'clock, and hit the sack.
Sorry, Baby, that I can't make better use of this opportunity to write, but I know you will understand that I can't help myself, that I would do better if I could. Please forgive
Eve dear, I received your letter of the 20th and I was very happy to hear from you. You don’t write very often, but when you do, you write a very interesting letter, full of news of people I am interested in hearing about. I just want you to know that your letters are very much appreciated by me.
During Hanuka, I attended an affair given by the Jewish people of this city. It was really swell. There was plenty to eat, and drink. They had sandwiches, cake, strudel, champagne, etc. A grand time was had by all.
Everything is about the same. I’m still M.P.ing, feeling swell, and very happy. I hope that this year sees the end of the War, and the safe return of all.
Keep well, and keep writing.
Love,
Eddie
Jan. 10, 1945
My dearest Phil,
I didn't write yesterday, for it was too late and I was too tired to attempt writing. Yesterday I received three letters, yours of Dec. 13th (which, incidentally you dated Nov. 13th and I can't understand why you made such a mistake) along with Ev’s letter and a lovely letter from Shirley and Yale.
Your letter explained your visit with the Woolfs and the oyster episode, which made very good reading. I'm very happy, Sweet, that you find the Woolf's such good company and that they relieve many hours that would otherwise be very lonely for you. Ev’s letter, too, made good reading, as you must know, having read it. I shall try to write her another letter in the near future.
There was one thing in your letter that hurt me very deeply. You mentioned that you had not written from the 9th to the 13th, and in your letter of Dec. 27th, received the other day, you also mentioned that you had not written for several days. Is it any wonder I haven't been receiving any mail? If you, who have but one job, cannot find time to write for three and four days at a time, then what should I, who have three jobs to do, and I do not say this for any reason of self-pity, should be able to write to you regularly. Phil, the answer is this; I have to give up an evening of fun, recreation, or whatever you choose to call it, even relaxation, to make darn sure I get that daily letter off to you. Even when it means loss of sleep, as it so often does since Adele has gotten into the practice of going to sleep at late hours, I have sat up and managed to write practically daily. I'm not going to do that anymore, and I do not say that to hurt you. You thanked me for writing šo regularly in your Dec. 27th letter, but that isn't enough for me. Ever hear the phrase that "action speaks louder than words". Well, pay heed. If you had to wait three weeks for some decent word from me, you'd be plenty mad too, and whenever I did want to skip writing, I thought to myself, "how will he feel if he has to wait many days for a letter from me" and then I wrote, regardless. I'm just wondering how many days you skipped between the 15th and 23rd of Dec. for I have yet to receive any mail of those dates. The mailman has not yet arrived and I am typing this before going into work, so we shall see. So much for letter writing -
The letter from Yale and Shirley disclosed what I mentioned in an earlier letter - that Shirley is pregnant. They both want a son. In this letter they paid us a very high compliment, to wit: Yale and I think Adele is the prettiest baby we ever saw and Yale thinks she is much prettier than Barbara was at her age - and you must know that is something coming from Yale. I do consider it a high compliment and am duly flattered, and I know you will, too. I'll bet that makes your chest swell up -
Later - The mail for me included letters from Milt, which was a real longie and one which I should like for you to read, and an equally nice letter from Snuff, who, by the way, wonders if you got his letter since no reply has been forthcoming. Snuff said he was glad I wasn't one of those "I owe you a letter correspondents" and said that that fact made him realize even more what true friends we are. He has thrumboplebitis, or a blood clot formed in his leg that caused it to swell and swell and the only way to correct the condition was to operate and tie up the veins. He told me this on the side - he's terribly worried that it doesn't occur in another part of his body and thereby necessitate another operation. Just room to say that I adore you, darling and am
After waiting for ages to get a letter dated after Dec. 9th, and finally getting two on Saturday dated the 14 and 15 Dec., today the mail became crazier still for I received your letter of Dec. 27th. How about that! Also received a letter from Jack N. (which I shall try to remember to enclose with my next air mail letter) stating that he will be staying with Sammy and Anne in Brooklyn and that he wants me to stay there while in New York. He still has dizzy effects from the operation, which was of major importance. He said he came around faster than the usual patient, who usually has vomiting spells. He has yet to vomit, and Thanks God for that. He said he put "the" particular ear to the radio to try to hear sound and that he heard just a wee bit. That isn't important - the important thing is that he "hears", even though it is just a wee bit.
I'm sorry you didn't get the opportunity to write more often during the holidays, but you're excused, honey. That K.P. sounded like a honey and I certainly wish you'd get your Sgt. stripe so that it wouldn't be necessary any more. And what did you mean when you said you'd be referring to Sgt. Murphy in another connection? I didn't get the significance of that remark. Or didn't you mean anything at all?
I guess the guests for dinner thought you were nuts when you passed up the chicken and turkey in favor of tomato herring. I think you're nuts too. I had no idea you were that fond of tomato herring.
I stopped at Lit Brothers on my way to work and returned the pair of white gloves I bought on Saturday. I didn't think they were worth $3 at all. The copper ones are very nice, and go with my other accessories perfectly. I can't get over how nicely the sweater and hat for Diana turned out. It is a beautiful set and Goldie is crazy about it. By the way, I certainly hope you get the opportunity to write directly to her to thank her for the letter.
Last night I dashed over to the yarn shop and bought some beige wool to make Paul the vest I had been promising to make for a long, long time. It’s really a very belated birthday gift - but better late than never. While there I noted that she gives instructions for the making of those crocheted handbags and even sells the materials, so that's the next item on my "make" list. I am going to make myself a black corduroy bag and get myself a pair of dressy black shoes with a low heel, so that I'll be able to wear my black velvet suit. I am unable to wear it cause I don't have the proper accessories. I am also going to make Adele a pair of mittens, if and when I get around to "making".
And so, baby, I find myself completely out of words. Adele gets smarter every day and constantly surprises us with her expressions. She’s as cute as ever! Gosh but I wish you could see her! There'll come a day!! I love you so much, my dearest - or had you guessed as much -
Your Eve
8 January 1945
Dearest Chippie,
Seems like it's getting increasingly difficult for me to write daily anymore - at least I notice that my lapses are becoming more and more frequent. I feel rather guilty on this score, Baby, although these fallings from grace are rarely voluntary. It's knowing that you write consistently even when you have just as much justification for not writing as I have that causes me to squirm whenever I miss writing - whatever the reason. My only consolation at these times, Chippie, is the hope that you understand and forgive these lapses, however eagerly you await my letters. I've been busy every minute of every day for more than a week now. When I’m not actually doing anything it is only because I'm thinking about what I must do next. I know you would be amazed, darling, at the amount of detail I am responsible for. There is a feeling extant among the uninitiated (and this even applies to the majority of men in my company) that the company clerk has a “soft touch". As far as they know, all I do is make out the payroll each month. They think that I sit around and twiddle my thumbs the rest of the time - that I have just about the easiest job in the Army, and never hesitate to throw it up to me. There was a time when I would defend myself against this sort of criticism, but I'm so weary of the prejudices, pettiness, and general ignorance of these characters, that I no longer bother to explain that quite a lot is expected of me, and that I try to do what is expected of me the best I know how. As you know, Sweet, our company is made up, in the main, of mechanics of one sort or another. There are Automotive Mechanics, Armament (guns) Men, Ammunitions men, etc. Naturally, being mechanics, and working with their hands and muscles, they have the mechanics’ instinctive contempt for a guy who holds a desk job, nor do they make any effort to conceal their distaste or inherent dislike for me on that account. Knowing the basis for this attitude as I do, I can almost forgive them the things they say and do that are calculated to hurt - and do, but not quite, 'cause I, in turn, have nothing but contempt for anyone so intolerant or prejudiced or unfeeling that he takes pleasure in tearing down another guy cause he don't happen to be a mechanic. I've tried my best to overlook all this, Chippie, and God knows I have enough to feel bitter about without having to contend with this ridicule from my own "buddies." Nothing angers me more than to have anyone look down their nose at me, and it would be hard for me to explain how deeply it hurts when I am made aware that one of the fellows is doing just that. I've tried everything I know [short of sheer back-slapping (the Army has a cruder term for it) and hypocrisy] to make friends in the company, but despite my best efforts in that direction, I can't truly feel that I have made more than a few friends who would go from here to the corner for me. I prefer to believe that this is due to the fact that I am the company clerk, but I know now that there is at least one more factor involved (which shouldn't take too much imagination on your part to guess), and that of course, is mainly why I feel badly about it. Nothing overt has, as yet, been voiced in my presence, but I have it from the best authority that such is the case. Altogether, it isn't an easy situation I find myself in, and I think you can appreciate how I feel about all this, but I guess I've been in the Army long enough to put up with any aggravations, both of the body and the mind, and if you'll permit me to go melodramatic on you for an instant) - of the heart. I remember that I promised myself a long time ago that I would refrain from any temptation to air my own private griefs to you, and really, Sweet, I don't know how or why I ever brought it up, but there it is, and because it is almost time for lights out, and therefore much too late to tear this up and write another letter, and because I hate to let this day go by without writing to you, I have decided to let this go through. I can only beg your indulgence, Baby, and your forgiveness for bringing to your attention a matter which is, after all, my own private problem. My best and dearest love to you, my darling (you'll never know in how many ways you’ve been my salvation), and to our adorable Adele, bless her little head! My love to all.
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.
