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..
After working almost constantly all day on the type-writer, I take pen in hand (as our stilted ancestors used to say) to let you know what gives with your ever-lovin' hubby—
Your V-mail of 12 Jan. arrived this afternoon. It contained the great news that Syd is back in the States, and would be home in a very few days. I can just picture how thrilled you must all be!) I earnestly hope that he’ll be home for good in a few months. Please tell him how glad I am for him. My love to Uncle Nish, Tante Bosh, Bebe and Sylvia, and Miriam.
The weather continues very cold, and we've had quite a lot of snow (for this neck of the woods). I read in the “Stars & Stripes" that you at home are having a severe winter, too. Hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much, honey.
Had a funny dream last night—Dreamed I received a picture of Adele showing her pointing at her outstretched right foot, as if to say - "See, Daddy, how straight it is!” I haven't been concerned lately for the punkin's legs - (not since Dr. Lefkoe said there was nothing to worry about)—but I guess it has been preying overtime on my subconscious mind.
The news on the Russian front gets better daily, and I'm hoping it's a harbinger of better things to come. Every time I feel discouraged or blue I consider how little more it might take to bring about the final and utter defeat of Germany, and I am filled with new hope. Call me a fool if you like, Chippie, but I can’t help feeling that I'll be seeing you, if only for a while, sometime during this summer or fall. Call it wishful thinking—an unfounded hunch—or what you will. That is what I feel, though ensuing events may prove my hopes groundless.
I'm still waiting to hear how you fared on your trip to New York, baby, but I guess I'll have to sweat it out another few days.
And now I’m going to the movies to see "Take it Big”. So long for now, Sweet. My best love to our adored punkin. Love to all. I miss you so, my Evie—
Tonight I am very, very happy. Only your presence could make my happiness complete. Mr. Bellet went to New York for the day and left Mrs. B. to look after us. We closed the store as usual and took the el and bus to get home. When we got off the J bus my dad and I walked home and I said I would see him shortly, as we parted at 4920. He went into the house and I proceeded to walk to 4906. As I walked I chanced to see Teddy Krouse, who said to me, "Aren't you happy that Eddie is home!" I said yes, but I wish he were really at home, in his own house. So he said, "Eddie Paller is home cause I saw him this afternoon". Well, honey, I picked up my feet and ran like hell to 4920 and I hear a terrific racket as I knocked on the front door. Yep, Ed is home for good and it's swell to feel so happy about something these days. We hugged and kissed and talked for just a few minutes, as Ed was eating supper and I had to get home and eat too. After dinner I went back and we all gathered in the living room and were dancing with Adele. I wish you could see her jitterbug with Ed. While we were all carrying on, I heard someone knock on the door and it was Goldie with the news that Jack Nerenberg was on the phone, long distance. So, for the second time in one night I dashed to 4906 and had a conversation with Jack. He said that his ears have improved since he had the operation but that they are not better than they were previous to it. In other words, he had become worse after the operation (which is generally the case) and was at least normal now. He told me that he had mailed me a money order for the pin, as I had requested, and I begged him to come in to Philly for a day or so if he could manage it for I want to see for myself how he has improved. He said he feels much better and that he will definitely try to be in Philly, if it is at all possible. The doctor asked him to request another 7 day extension so that he (the doctor) could care for him that much longer. It was good to talk to him and somehow, when I talk with him, I feel that much closer to you, honey. Oh, darling, how I love you and want you!
Your v-mail of Jan. 11th (you had a terrible headache that day and I'm glad it passed) and your November bond (finally) and a v-mail from Mickey Brown composed my mail for the day. I had just finished writing to the War Bond Office the other day. The bond is for Nov. but was made out on Jan 22. Chicago is very hard hit by the manpower shortage, so that may be the cause of all the trouble. Well, baby, is that a full day or is it? If only I could take you in my arms and love you as I want to -
I wear my fur coat and fur trimmed galoshes to work each day and this morning, the cop on the corner, who comes into our store at times (a big Irish fellow) said "HYa puss in the boots"! Everyone has been telling me I look like a Russian in the outfit and this particular remark made me laugh. Ed particularly likes the fur coat and thinks I got a very, very good buy, eh hem! He can't get over Adele and she loved when he played roughly with her. She loves rough stuff! For that matter, so do I, when practiced by you, baby. More tomorrow, darling, but in the meantime, would you mind very much if I kissed you soundly? No, I didn't think you would -
Your Eve
26 Jan. 1945
My Darling,
There was no mail at all today, and because not much of anything happened, I figured this V-mail form would be sufficient for what I have to say—
Seems like it gets colder each day. The frost is thick over everything, but even though it looks pretty on the trees and all the foliage, it is too damned cold out to enjoy the effect. Walking down to dinner with a biting cold wind smack in my face, was no picnic, I assure you, Chippie.
(Filling my pen just now, I was reminded of the circumstances under which t received it. Looking back, it doesn't seem so long ago that you and Jackie and Harry [where was our Jack at the time?] passed your gift of the pen-and-pencil set to me across the table at the Music Village. It might please you to know that the pen has given me wonderful service, and is coveted by almost everyone who uses it. I use the pencil very little.)
I've been pretty busy all day today, but not nearly as much so as I expect to be in a few days, when the end of the month and new month rush starts. Before it does, though, I’m going to take a couple days off if I can.
I know, honey, that you aren't very happy with "V-mail" so just by way of making this a welcome letter, I'll tell you a little secret. On Feb. 1, the day after pay-day, I'm going to send you and the punkin something nice thru the PX. I won't tell you what it is, ’cause I know how you love surprises. Do you love to hear me say "I love you, Ev” - even tho it's not a surprise? My dearest love to my very own punkin - and all.
Devotedly, Your Phil
January 26, 1945
Dear Evelyn
I too am sorry I missed you when I called. I had intended to phone again, but always got sidetracked. Now I’m writing this letter because, though I may call tonight, I’m liable to be someplace again where I can’t do it at the time you’ll most likely be in.
About my hearing, toots, I’m afraid I didn’t explain it properly. It’s not so good as your enthusiasm shows you to believe it to be.
The difference between now and when you were here is this: now I can hear in that ear over the phone when someone speaks loud. Before the operation I could hear when someone spoke normally. Immediately after the operation I couldn’t hear over the phone at all. It has improved very little. I hope it continues but if it doesn’t I won’t worry about it.
Ev I’m sorry this is sloppy. I broke the pen I started with. This is awful.
Your mood of your first letter to me had me worried about you. Ev, a little foolishness that does no one harm is nothing. But too much seriousness and lack of a stop gap for your emotions aroused in such cases as for your girlfriends loss; well that can be bad.
I’m glad Phil hasn’t thrown you over for some blonde which is indicated by the bunch of letters you received.
Ev, I was going to send you the money for the pin in this letter. I’ll wait until late today when I can get a money order. Meanwhile I’ll mail this. My love to you all, and a little extra to the swell gal this is written to from
I didn't write yesterday. Shortly after I wrote to you on Tuesday, I called Dot and asked her to come up for dinner so that we could both visit Fay later in the evening, and she accepted. I went to work as usual and Dot met me at the place at 6 o'clock and Mr. Bellet drove us all home. Dot gave me a little jersey and a pair of socks for Adele (the jersey was size 4 but I made her take it back and get me a 6) and I gave her $8 for Harold. I also gave Dot my dubonnet pumps and I sure did hate to part with them cause I liked them so much, but what good are they if they hurt. Dot and I had dinner, I brought Adele over and put her straight to bed and we went over to Fay’s. Fay will be unable to return to work for several reasons: It will cost her $1.50 per day to have the baby cared for, she'll have to go up and back from the nursery, and it will be too much of a strain. We stayed at Fay's till 12:30 and Dot got a ride down to Market St. with some other people that were there. Well, honey, I didn't get to bed till almost 1:30 and I've been feeling so weary I just don't know what ails me. So - o, today I am makIng fast with the letter writing, am going to get Adele over, and get her to bed and get myself to bed, all as quickly as possible.
I had a letter from Seymour today and it was a very nice one. He apologizes for not remembering Adele's birthday, but promised to make up for it. He isn't doing anything at the moment, just routine. Today I dug out the ole welcome home sign that I had up for you when you first came marching home and we're going to pin Eddie's name over yours temporarily. Yes, we expect Eddie home for good most any day now and I don't have to tell you how good that makes us all feel. Jack decorated the house with red, white and blue streamers and has flags draped over all. When I brought Adele over this morning, she didn't know where to look first. As my mother said, "Gosh, Ev, how you'd feel if Phil were coming home." And how! By the way, sweet, I can't get either the cigarettes or the chocolate that Anne promised and I shall have to get some sort of a package together myself this weekend. Everything is so scarce that it's actually a tough job to get something decent into a package and off. The only way you get anything these days is if you know anyone. And, sweet, I've taken great pains to impress upon Adele the fact that you call her "punkin" and when I asked her the other day what daddy calls her, she very readily replied, "punkin. When she does anything wrong and she sees me getting excited, she says "Scuse me, mommy, I'll be a dood dirl". Milt Brown is in the NetherÃands East Indies, for your information, for you seemed puzzled about it in a recent letter. I told you where he was some time ago, but I guess you forgot. I also wrote a letter to the War Bond office, as neither the Nov. or Dec. bond has put in an appearance as yet. Most everyone has received their Dec. bond, so something must be wrong somewhere. Speaking of bonds reminds me - Did you ever get S & D’s Xmas bonus?
Today was the coldest day of this winter, the thermometer registering no more than 2 degrees. Sure do wish you were here to warm me up! And just in case you can use some "warmin’” I'm sending along plenty of loving kisses as well as all my love and
Your Eve
24 January 1945
Ev, dearest,
My hopes for receiving a lot of mail today were dissipated about 4:30, when a few paltry pieces of mail arrived, but none for yours very lovingly.
We've had some freezing weather, and a few snow-falls in the past few days. Walking back and forth from the Mess Hall, Aero Club, and Theater is by way of being something of an ordeal as a consequence. Speaking of the Mess-Hall - something new has been added. It was freshly painted in green and white, and loud-speakers were installed to provide music and news while we eat. "Special Services" is constantly dreaming up something new to make our lot a little easier to take. This is the latest innovation. The “Thunderbolt Theater,” which I was bragging about some months ago is, I understand, the best in base theaters in the ETO. Sometimes I wonder how long ago I might have gone completely mad if it weren't for the relaxation and entertainment offered by the good old “Thunderbolt" (which really should be re-named because we no longer have this plane on the base. Our planes are P-51 "Mustangs").
There is very little to report this evening, Sweet, and I'm trying very hard to think of the right combination of words to fill this page. I have a date with Klein to go to the second show to see "Shine on, Harvest Moon, with Ann Sheridan, Dennis Morgan, Jack Carson, Marie Wilson and others. Some of the fellows who saw it at the matinee this afternoon said it was pretty good, others say it stinks, but I'll see for myself.
No doubt you are wondering when I mean to send off that plexi-glass bauble I was telling you about the other day. Well, Chippie, my pass comes up in a few days, and if I can get my clothes in shape in time, I'll take a run into town and see what can be done about engraving it. In any case, it will be on its way shortly.
Klein received a nice package of foodstuffs from home today, and I was reminded that you asked me if I would like another package. Chippie, any time you have a dollar or two you don't know what to do with (fat chance!), just buy a few cans of tuna, a jar of mayonnaise, a box of rocquefort cheeses, a very dry hunk of salami, relish, gherkins, etc. Ritz or Crax crackers, or biscuits of any kind that will take the place of bread, or some of Mom's delicacies like “prakas" or spaghetti or tuna-fish salad, or “cocletten” put up in air-tight Mason jars. Any or all of these items would be received with a great deal of pleasure. 'Nuff said?
I'm waiting most impatiently for details about your recent trip to New York, but I guess it'll be a coupla weeks yet before I hear about that. And now, Chippie, I must run along if I’m to make that show. Do you mind very much if I continue with this tomorrow? You don't? Now that's magnanimous of you, Sweet - here's a kiss - and a fond good-night - I adore you, Ev—
25 January 1945
Hello again, darling! It was bitter cold today. My ears were numb with frost by the time I walked to the Mess-Hall, and I've been hugging the fire pretty closely all day. As a matter of fact, it took a bit of will power to get away from the stove long enough to get some work done.
The mail is still conspicuous by its absence, so I don't have much of anything to say tonight. I might, however, mention that the show last night was just fair. I think Ann Sheridan is much too accomplished an actress to be wasted in nondescript musicals such as "Shine on, Harvest Moon". Remember her in “King's Row"? They should find another such role for her. Dennis Morgan is very handsome, and he has a good, strong singing voice. He was entirely sufficient as the romantic lead. Jack Carson, always good, is neither better nor worse than usual. Marie Wilson is the perfect foil (and what a pair of gams!) After a bite at the Snack Bar, Klein and I trudged back to barracks and opened the package he had received from home. We filled up on peanut-butter crackers, assorted nuts, dried dates, etc. - and then to bed.
This morning, at 6:30, Sgt. Beppler, the CQ, woke me to relieve him in the Orderly Room so he could go to breakfast. The hut was as cold as ice, so I dressed in nothing flat, and dashed over to the Orderly Room, where I warmed up a bit at the fire Bep had built. I was fairly busy all day.
The newspapers make very exciting reading these days. The Russians are driving for Berlin, and it looks very much like they should be knocking on the gates in a week or two. The “Ardennes bulge" has been virtually erased and the Allied armies are expected to get going in a big way any day now. Altogether, the situation looks very promising, indeed, and you can well imagine, Chippie, what I am feeling like these days.
The enclosed circular letter should give you a pretty fair idea of the activities and accomplishments of our 8th Air Force during ’44. When the history of World War II is written, much will be said about the 8th. Read it, honey, and be proud that your hubby, in his small way, was also among those present to do his little bit to make the 8th what it is.
Can't think of another thing to say, Sweet, except I love you very, very much. A big hug and kiss for my little girl Adele. My love to Mom, Harry and Goldie.
Today your very, very long typewritten letter of Jan. 3 came through and put me in a very, very mellow mood. Gosh, but I love to receive mail from you and more, specifically, - Gosh, but I love you! I had been waiting for all the mail between Dec. 27th and Jan. 4th and this was the first inkling I had that you hadn't written for so many days. There are still letters due me from the 27th to the 30th which I haven't received and I hope you didn't skip those days either. Yes, sweet, your longie made up for the days you hadn't written and I can fully appreciate how much time went into the typing of the letter received today. Mind If I give you a blg kiss for it, sweet!
Our 3 year fire Insurance policy on our furniture runs out on Jan. 27th and Mrs. Ostry took the liberty of renewing it. It used to cost $9.00 for three years, but now It is only $6, so I am sending off check today. Mr. Bellet has been nice enough to allow us to use his checks whenever the occasion arises so that we may save the cost of a money order. The bank also charges heavily for a check issued from an account these days. I did Mr. Beilet a big favor today and one which he appreciated, by allowing my dad to take the typewriter down to the place for Anne to use to make up the tax returns for the year. I made $705.38 last year and paid $10 and change in taxes. It could be that the gov't owes me money. I shall have to file an Income tax report on my own and we'll think about making one together once you return. I claim for both you and Adele at the present time. He brought the typewriter home with us this evening, for I can't be without it.
I called Fay last night and told her that I was much too tired to come over and would be over this evening instead. She received the three packages Morris sent as Xmas gifts and everything is simply lovely. A woman from the War Dept. came to visit her to see if there was anything she wanted in the way of help. V She told them that she would like to give Marcy into a good nursery and go back to work and they are arranging it for her. She doesn't have to go back to work Immediately, but she says she'll go crazy if she doesn't and I think It's good idea too. You know it's funny the way the $10,000 Insurance works. After all I think she'll only get $50 a month and the allotment for the same classification at present is $80. She won't be able to get along on $50, but I think she is entitled to another kind of pension, which ought to make up the difference. So it goes -
I was unwell ten days from the aggravation and couldn't wait for the opportunity to shower and wash my hair, so that's exactly what I did last night. By the time I got your letter written and letter off to Jack N. it was pretty late and by the time I got done with showering, washing and setting my hair it was really late, so I missed another night of sleep. Oh well -
I adore you, baby, and I don't mind losing sleep to keep you happy -
Your Eve
23 January 1945
My Own Darling,
Just received two very nice letters from the Nerenberg boys, Jack and Mike. Jackie's letter is all about his impending ear operation and an account of his late and current "love affairs" (the reason for the quotes is obvious). Now it's a nurse named Marjorie! He even goes so far as to confide that they are planning to marry! Seems as though he gets himself in a little deeper (no double-entendre intended) with each consecutive infatuation. In the course of his remarks he says "I know; you think I don't know my mind" - Wonder where he ever got that idea?!!!
Mike's letter divulges the intriguing information that he and Frances are expecting their second child in May. Also that he expects to be shipped overseas soon. Hope he gets to stick around ’til after the baby is born, although he doesn't talk like he expects to.
There was no fresh mail from you today, Sweet, but I'm expecting quite a few of your letters within the next few days.
Last night, after I finished writing to you, I went down to see "Marriage is a Private Affair.” I went with every expectation of seeing a good picture, and I wasn't a bit disappointed. The story is timely, moving, and well-presented. Lana Turner turns in her most important performance to date and it's hard, almost impossible, to detect a flaw in her portrayal of the unstable Theo. To boot, she is more attractive than I have ever seen her. But in this one, the plot is the thing, and one must be unfeeling in the extreme not to be emotionally affected by it. It deals with the question of marital constancy, and whether a woman profits more by remaining true to her husband, or by trying to recapture some of the glamour and excitement of her single state. It makes for a very intriguing story and I was very much interested. Especially so because I've participated in many a heated debate on just that issue, and even more so because of a some of the sordid, ugly goings-on that I have first-hand knowledge of. Some day, Chippie, I'll tell you something about these things, and I guarantee you'll be shocked to the core. The picture left me in a strange mood. I walked in a world of moonlight and frost, and thought deeply all the while about the carnal supremacy over the human will to be decent.
At first, I couldn't account for my own reactions and sensitivity whenever I was made aware of the baseness of people who were strangers to me. After all - what was it to me that others threw overboard every tenet of honorable conjugal behavior? It was no skin off my nose! Yet I could not hear of such misconduct without being filled with a loathing that made me almost physically sick! It bothered me that the other fellows could literally lick their chops while either recounting their own “adventures” (to give it a nice name), or listening to a buddy tell of his; while I writhed within myself in my struggle to convince myself that such things couldn't be - that people, after all, had certain instincts and consciences above the animals. - And what of love? Was that vaunted quality, the noblest passion of which the human is capable, the excuse and subject for song and story, just a fable? So much hot air? I refused to believe it! Alas, to all intents and purposes, (I was finally forced to admit to myself) such is the case. The conviction was forced upon me that people are far more interested in the actualities of the present, than they are at all concerned with abstract ideals born of their pasts and pertinent to their futures. When, finally, this conviction was established firmly in my mind, I found the answer to my own retchings of the spirit at the mere mentioning of infidelity, while my buddies were either indifferent, or, what is worse, frankly envious! It had never occurred to me that I was idealistic almost to the point of abnormality, but I am now convinced that that is the only explanation for my unusual (by normal standards) reactions and convictions where ethics and ideals are concerned. "Affaires d'amour, which the average person takes more or less for granted, the more lascivious aspects of which he is wont to greet with a leer, a chuckle, or, in the feminine gender, with an appreciative titter or a quasi-disapproving "tsk-tsk", have the power to move me profoundly - to make me seethe with indignation, contempt and abhorrence. It's the mixture of these emotions which induces so strong a revulsion in me, that it affects me physically. (I think you remember such an instance, Baby) – and, as I've said, it's all the product of an exaggerated sense of the fitness of things", (ideals). Someday, Chippie, we'll discuss the significance of all the foregoing, and to what extent it is responsible for keeping me physically, as well as spiritually, and altogether literally
Today your letters of Jan. 5, 13 (v-malls) and Jan. 8 came through and I don't have to tell you how terribly happy I am when I receive mail from you, dearest. Your letter of the 8th dealt with your feelings in connection with being company clerk and I wasn't surprised to learn of your feelings. I've known for quite some time that you aren't too happy with the setup, nor can it be helped. Be it as it may, we must both remember that we still have each other and that we have hopes of being together some day, which is a lot more than Fay has to think about. We’ll both look back on our respective lives and refer to it as a bad dream.
I went over to Fay's with Anne last night and we stayed till 12. Then I got back I had to help Ruth with some of her homework and never did get to bed until about 1:30. Consequently, I felt a little sick all day at work and since it is now after 11 and I still have to bathe and wash my hair I hope you'll understand if this sounds a bit muddled.
I didn't get the cigarettes or candy yet, so the package will be delayed a few more days. I got out your shoes and they are really in good condition and should serve the purpose.
Jack Nerenberg called from New York while I was at Fay’s and told Mom that his hearing is vastly improved. He promised to call me some time this week and may stop at Philly before reporting back to the Oklahoma Hospital. Today is Jack's 27th birthday and I sent him a lovely card yesterday. He refused to allow me to buy him a gift and told me to save it for when he gets out of the Army. I feel funny about it, but he was so Insistent that I hardly know what to do. I'm very happy that he is improving, for he was in terrible shape mentally and this is just that he needs.
Among other things, I received mail from Gloria and Eddie Strongin. Glo sent us a snapshot of Jack which is very good.
I shall write to the Bond Office as you suggest, for both your Nov. and Dec. bonds are way overdue. It shouldn't take this long for a bond to clear the channels, so something must be wrong. I’ll let you know how I make out.
Adele, bless her widdle heart, is a regular little darling these days and smart as a whip. She loves to imitate - oh, darling how I wish you could see her! I ask her what she's going to do when she sees daddy and she replies that she’ll say "Hello, daddy, how are you feeling” and give you a kiss. I ask her If she wants to go with me to see Daddy and she gets all excited. She should know how excited I get!
But here we are at the bottom (yeh man) and I must take my leave. I adore you, sweetheart Daddy Philip and guess you won't mind too much if I just squeeze you to bits.
Your Eve
22 January 1945
Dearest Darling,
Sorry I didn't get a chance to write yesterday, but something came up in the evening, and I had to work. Your V-mail of 11 Jan. arrived today, and now I”m “sweating out” about six air mail letters to fill in the blank dates in January. According to today's V-mail, you, too, are looking for a “jack-pot". Hope you got it before you left for New York, Sweet. The rest of your comment was mostly about your visit to the Browns to see Anita Rae (cute name). But right in the middle of the paragraph you stuck in a few sentences that I didn't take kindly to. I refer to your volunteered info that Mickey Brown and other Cpls., husbands of your girl friends, are sending home $30-40 a month. That's all very nice - for them, and more power to them if they do (though how they do I can’t understand, considering that they only draw about $44-mo., about $38, less Class F and Class N (insurance) allotments, if they are in the states, and a total of about $49 if they are overseas), but even if you didn't exactly mean to hint that I should be able to do likewise, your opinion that "I realize fully that you have more opportunity than they do in their present state to spend money, etc. -" is entirely in error. The fact is - exactly the opposite is true! However, I make no apologies for the fact that I spend the $27-28 that is handed to me each month. Nor will I attempt to justify the manner in which of spend it. If I choose to spend a month's pay “foolishly" (according to your concepts), and remain “in the hole" for a few months as a consequence, I don't expect you to call me to task for it. If you consider that this ($28) is too big a sum to “waste", then please advise me of the fact. Tell me just how much of this total you consider unessential to my needs, and I promise you, I will send it on to you, so that you may hold up your pretty head among "every single one of the girls” - (I can't help wondering who they are) - who get *$30-40 from their “Cpl. husbands” each month! But if you, on second thought, think that $28 is not too much for me to spend each month (“foolishly” or otherwise), kindly refrain from citing what other “Cpl. husbands" do. I assure you, Sweet, that such talk, if you had no real intention of prodding me to any specific reaction, bores me to death! I dislike most heartily the type of girl (or wife) who takes pleasure in discussing such mundane matters as the money her husband sends to her. Wives who would ordinarily blanch at the thought of divulging their husband’s weekly wage to their girl friends, by your admission indulge their innate feminine conceit by bragging about how their help-mates will deprive themselves in order to send $30-40 home to them. That, my dear, is what it amounts to whatever kind of arithmetic you use (unless said husbands have other sources to bolster their incomes - such as gambling, for instance). I can't, for the life of me, admire a girl who will air the fact that her husband is so “considerate" that he will struggle along on $5-10 per month in order to send $30-40 dollars home to her. To such a one there is an obvious questions, which suggests itself: Are you so indifferent to your husband’s needs or wants that you are content (even vain) to let him thus deprive himself? Chippie, I'd hate to think that you consider that I am doing you an injustice in sending home any lesser amount than other men in the same category, but what can I think when you aim so thinly-veiled an innuendo at me? The fact that you resorted to innuendo suggests to me that you weren't very sure of the reception the “$30-40 idea" would receive. I trust I have left you in no doubt. I've deplored, on a few previous occasions, your weakness for being influenced by the assertions and actions of your friends and acquaintances. Hell, Chippie, you have a mind of your own - use it ! Now that I think of it - you were so sure you didn't want me to come home from England on furlough because the ultimate parting would be so hard to take. Yet when a few of your friends or neighbors told you that I should come home if I got the chance, it immediately set doubts in your mind. You showed this clearly in your letter discussing this subject when you closed with "I wonder—". Why the indecision, Baby? You know your own mind - your own feelings - let them dictate your speech and actions - not the minds and feelings and mouthings of others. Incidentally - about this “furlough” business that seems to be increasingly a matter for discussion back there at home—I wrote, a few days ago, and once before that, that given the opportunity to spend thirty days at home, I would refuse it. At that time the inference was that on completion of the furlough I would be sent overseas to another theater. Under those conditions, I would still prefer to "sweat it out” over here. However, if I could get a furlough from my unit (meaning, of course, that I would return to my company on completion of my leave) I would most certainly accept it. I figure the anticipation and joy of coming home would more than make up for the ultimate difficulty in separating myself from you yet once again. The parting would not be nearly so hard to take in that case, knowing to what I would be returning. I speak, naturally, only for myself. You may feel differently about it, Baby. You said, in discussing the matter, that the choice rested with me. I agree that it is my prerogative to do as I see fit, but I want you to know, Chippie, that I wouldn't consider taking such a leave if you felt it would be easier on you to wait until I come home for good, rather than suffer the parting again. So you see, darling, the ultimate choice is yours to make, in any case. Do not be deluded by all this discussion into hoping that I "know something”. Frankly, I see only the barest possibility that I will ever be given the opportunity for such a leave, but the bare possibility is enough to warrant some consideration of the matter, so that I know your decision, and know what course of action to take if the opportunity should present itself. The decision, as I have pointed out, must be the reflection of your own heart and mind- not that of the Moms or anyone else. Think it over, Sweet, and let me know how you decide. However you decide, please trust me to understand your motives.
Well - that was quite a spiel for your usually close-mouthed hubby wasn't it? Now I'm off to the movies to see "Marriage is a Private Affair” with Lana Turner, James Craig, John Hodiak and others. Sounds interesting. Tell you about it tomorrow, honey. Until then, I am
Your ever-lovin’
Phil
P.S. Best love and kindest regards to Adele Bara, the family, and the neighbors.
Last night, as I had said in yesterday’s letter, we went to the Brown’s party in honor of Syd's return home. Harry, Mom and I went and Goldie stayed in to mind the kids. We took a cab and got there fairly late.
Syd looks swell to me, though very much matured. He's just as quiet as ever and a little nervous. I’ll bet there were at least 100 people there and the din and racket made me nervous. I spent most of the evening laying in the bed upstairs, talking to Sylvia, Miriam and whoever else chanced to come up. Etta came and brought the baby and her carriage, as she had no one to leave with Vicki. They simply opened the carriage and put the baby to sleep in the bedroom, while Anita slept soundly in the next room.
Everyone and then some more people were present. I can't think of anyone who wasn't there, with the exception of those in the service. I met Sylvia's family for the first time and since Syl is so crazy about Adele and talks to her folks so much about her, they have insisted that I pay them a visit only if I bring her (Adele) along, cause they are most anxious to see her. I hope to make it some weekend soon.
We had no means of transportation to get home, as all the cars were full to capacity. Lena and Bob took Mom, and Harry and I were left on our own. Harry was a little potted at first, but snapped out of it nicely. He managed to get a cab by hailing one on the outside, for the company said there were no cabs available. Consequently, I never did get to bed till 4 A.M. and mister, I am so tired I could fairly scream. Adele did not nap today to add to the tumult and we have some company this evening, Mr. & Mrs. Bader.
I would go straight to bed were it not for the fact that I promised Fay faithfully that I would come over this evening. I did want to go there yesterday as she had no one at all, but she called an old friend of hers who came over and spent the evening with her. Guess it won't kill me to give up a couple of nights of rest if I can be of any help to her. She keeps saying that she can't understand what God wants from a little girl like her. She almost feels there isn't a God. Her mother was a widow at 39 and here she is done at 23. My heart goes out to her so much! She realizes that she isn't the only one and is so spunky that I can't help admiring her no end. She's been swell, Phil, and I'm only sorry you couldn't get to know the both of them as I had.
Adele and I were out all day long. Adele wore her galoshes and we walked around and around the block many times. We were both tired when we came in and I had no trouble getting her to bed early this evening. I couldn't get up to make her breakfast, so I just brought her juice and a glass of milk up to her and went back to bed after giving her some things to play with in the crib. I love you so much, Phil, darling -
I can't believe it, but it's true. Today there were your two v-mails of Jan. 11 and 12th - Imagine! They contained very little in the way of news, but they certainly are a blessing.
The pin I bought in New York came today, but I'm terribly disappointed in It for they put a different color of stone in and I don't like it at all. Jack Nerenberg said he would take it off my hands if I didn't like it so I've written asking him about it. I don't feel it's worth the money either. I hope Jack wants it for his girl, or I'll really be stuck.
Well, I did get that 5¢ raise after all and it will amount to something like a $1.50 to $2.00 more each week. Every little bit counts!
I was with Fay all evening until about 2 A.M. this morning and, Phil, she's holding up well. The real impact hasn't hit her yet, for she is still receiving the most beautiful letters you ever read. Morris also sent her three packages of things he bought for her in France that haven't arrived as yet. There’s so much to say, but I'd rather not talk about it anymore, for it makes me awfully sick. She did say one thing: That she feels if you can get a furlough to take it - to take anything you can get. It's only natural for her to feel that way!
Also learned that Dr. Baron across the way received the same dose. His youngest son was killed recently. Boy the war certainly is hitting home with unequalled force! May it be short lived!
I also received a nice letter from Milt (who, by the way, is in the Dutch East Indies) stating that he had moved to another spot on the island and that for the first time in months he saw a movie. Guess his outfit is getting a bit of a rest period.
We’re all supposed to go to the Browns tonight and they are having the entire family over to visit Syd. I haven't decided yet whether I want to go, since I am terribly tired and sleepy. If I snap out of it before we have to leave, I may go, but you'll find out tomorrow.
I'm still reading your letter of the 6th, honey, for it is so terribly sweet. It's just the type I love to receive. It's the one in which you discuss the various fragrances you noticed about me and I could eat you up for the way you express yourself. Have I told you that I adore you to bits? I have! Well, I’m sure you'll enjoy my saying It once more. Darling Phil, I love you so much and I pray to God that someday we shall be reunited to carry on a normal happy life.
