Post #569 - February 3, 1945 After Dinner Jack, Ed and I Practiced Some Dancing for Awhile and I Hardly Realized with What Keen Anticipation I was Awaiting Mail-Call

 

Feb. 3. 1945 

Dearest Baby,

After work today my dad and I walked to 12th and Arch to get some item for my mother at the A & P. Before getting there we stopped at H & H to have a bite and then continued on our way. During the course of our walk I noticed two items that really caught my eye and if I can manage to get back there this week and the prices aren’t too high I shall buy them. The two items were a pair of shoes and a bag of brilliant red leather. The shoes were d'orsay style (toe in and back out) very plain except for a single row of perforations about the edge. Oh yes, we stopped at a drug store on the way, at 4th & Market (my dad knows the proprietor very well) and we managed (finally) to get a single roll of film and a pack of Chesterfield cigarettes, also two small chocolate bars. Once arrived at the A & P, I managed to get six packages of Black Jack gum, three rolls of peppermint life savers and a large tootsie roll. So, you see, I'm beginning to have some resemblance of a decent package to send you. I guess it will have to be my birthday gift to you, for I'll be darn if I can think of what else you'd like to have.

I had two letters today; one from Milt and the other from Dr. Lefkoe advising me that he would like to check Adele’s feet before I buy her another pair of shoes. I don't intend to buy Adele shoes until the beginning of April or thereabouts, as her present ones are still plenty big, though they are beginning to become beatup.

I know of something you would like to have and I still have it in mind. I’ll be having Adele’s picture made any day. I just don't seem to have time to get around to it. I didn't want to have her picture made before this cause she wasn't looking too good due to her cold. But she's right in there now and I'm going to remember to contact some good photographer before the next week is out.

When I got home I dressed Adele and we both stayed out front. I chopped the ice off the pavement while Adele watched. Later we went over to my mother's and Adele had her dinner there. By the way, my mom sold the old piano for $25. I never thought she could get that much for it, but she did. Sure will seem funny when the old piano is gone. After dinner Jack, Ed and I practiced some dancing for awhile. They are both accomplished dancers and I aim to put you in their class insofar as dancing is concerned. Jackie N. gave my brother Jack some some pointers on how to use his shoulders and he's putting the advice to use. After a good workout I gave up.

Adele is sleeping now and since I promised Fay I would be over and it is passed nine, I shall hasten to keep my appointment. We're going to spend the evening knitting. She's making a sweater for Marcy and I'm making that vest for Paul. So long for now, sweetness, I love you more than ever. Here's a Frenchy kiss to convince you just a little bit -

Your Eve

3 February 1945

Eve, Dearest,

All day today I subconsciously looked forward to the afternoon, for I rather thought that it might bring me your long-delayed letters. I hardly realized with what keen anticipation I was awaiting mail-call until the station mail-clerk opened the door and threw a mere handful of V-mail toward me, and my spirits drooped to a low ebb. To complete my disappointment, there wasn't even a V-mail for me. I hate to admit it, Sweet, but I felt so low and generally disgusted with everything, and the mail situation in particular, that to spare myself the depression of my mood, I hit the sack immediately I was through work. I slept ’til 8 o’clock, when I bestirred myself to get this off to you.

It was another lovely day, the sun shining in an almost cloudless, and another busy one. I turned the deposits into the Finance Office, got my bike fixed up (it needed a pedal and a grease job) and picked up some notes for the Company History. It doesn’t sound like much, but it took the whole day to get these few things done.

Last night, after finishing my letter to you, I went to the movies to see E. Cantor, G. Murphy, C. Moore and Joan Davis in "Show Business" - and liked it very much. Cantor seems to improve with age. His nimbleness afoot is almost unbelievable for a guy who must be pretty close to sixty years. One would never guess from his appearance, either, that he was a day over thirty-five. To top it off, he gives one of the most personable and pleasing performances of his entire movie career. I really enjoyed him in this. George Murphy is his usual dashing, graceful self and is always a great performer. Connie Moore is very lovely (especially about the chassis), and sings "It had to be You" to a king's taste. But Joan Davis does everything but steal the show, she's that good, and that's no mean feat, considering the competition. The story is hackneyed, but somehow the action remains interesting and pleasing all the way through. There are no “production” numbers, but one doesn't miss them, either. This quartet of show-people are talented enough to make the picture highly diverting without resorting to that. In a word, a very entertaining picture. 

I had planned to stop in at the PX today to send off those things I wrote about in yesterday's letter, but just couldn't find the time. Perhaps tomorrow—

That’s about all for tonight, honey. I still have to get cleaned up before I can go to bed and it's 10:30 now. I'll keep our date while I'm shaving, Sweet. It’s never too late, though, to tell you that I adore you, my Evie. Dearest love to Adele, Mom, H+G+D, —and all. 

Always, your Phil

Post #568 - February 2, 1945 Gee, I Wish I Could Make You a Decent Breakfast Once Again! and I Haven’t Received a Solitary Piece of “Air-Mail” for Almost a Month

 

Feb. 2, 1945 

My dearest Phil,

Today brought the best mail I've had in months, Your V-mail of the 26/Jan came through - only six days. old - and that is something considering that all my mail for the past few months has been at least ten days old. Come to think of it, the V-mail is seven days old. Still made good time.

I'm enclosing the picture and notice of Morris’ demise as it was in the paper yesterday, and I just thought perhaps you would want to see it.

I got into work very early today, and for the first time in about two weeks I actually completed all the work in the place. It's a grand feeling to know that you're free to start anew the next day. This week I made more hours than I've made in the eight months I've been working for Bellet. (Today is exactly eight months, to be exact) I put in 40-3/4 hrs. to total a pay of $30.85 or about $29.70 with deductions. That, too, is my best pay to date. It's very unusual for me to make 40 hours, but I made a special effort, both yesterday and today and got in at 10:30 instead of the usual 12.

Mr. B. was in an excellent mood this morning. In fact he felt so good that he treated both Anne and myself to chocolate bars. In the afternoon I asked him if I could have two small one quart enamel pots and a tiny red and blue enamel egg poacher that had come in. The small one quart pots are just the size I need to make Adele's meals and I have been unable to obtain any. They happened to be seconds and sell for 25¢ a piece. The egg poacher, also a second grade, sells for 38¢. Being that he was in a good mood he gave me all three items for $.65. Now you can have poached eggs when you come home - on buttered toast. Gee, I wish I could make you a decent breakfast once again!

Your letter of 18/Jan. is missing and all those between the 20th and 26th are missing, but, undoubtedly they will show up within the next few days. Your V-mail of the 26th had very little in it for me to comment upon, but the part about your sending Adele and I something from the PX surprised me. I get that same urge to want to send you something, but, for the life of me, I just can't conceive of what to send. I wish, sweet, that you'd offer suggestions from time to time, for I'm at my wits end and I'd certainly like to send you more packages if you want or need anything.

I wrote letters to Gloria and Snuffy today. Gloria will be here next weekend, as she wants to see Syd. I spoke to Syd today and he told me that he happened to meet Jack N. at the train station on Monday and they rode to New York together. (Syd went into New York for two days for a good time with Sylvia's brother). I'm glad they kept each other company for the trip in, for it goes much faster when you have someone to talk with.

Ed mailed off a package containing your civilian shoes today and I'm making all efforts to get off another package. Harry got me a pack of Herbert Tareyton for you and will try to get another. Anne promised me some boxes of chiclets. I'm going to get after Ben for some 5¢ bars and after this I'm not going to buy at Ben's anymore. He and his wife are stinkers and insulted Ed highly. I can't help resenting them for it. Of course we must chalk it up to ignorance, but I'd rather not have any dealings with such ignorant people.

Ed felt rather weary this evening and came over here to stay with me awhile. He relaxed on the bed while I bathed Adele and then we chatted about various subjects. He was so tired that I made him go home and told him to get to bed straightaway. I sure do wish you could see the way Adele kisses him smack on the lips. Boy, does she have a technique all her own! You'll just love that, honey!! She loves to love and be loved. Me, too. (Can I hear you saying "Me, too!" Yep, I can).

I’m at my wits end as to what I should send as a birthday gift for you. I wouldn't mind creeping into the package and coming along, if only it were possible. Honestly, baby, I don't know what to buy for you. Help me out, will you? It becomes increasingly difficult to get some of the articles you ask for, so I hope you'll understand if I can't send them along.

I know you've always wanted a camera and I'd like nothing better than to send one along. Would you like one of those they have to offer today - or would you rather collect it along with all those other gifts I have lined up for you - some day.

It's very late now, darling, and since I must get up early tomorrow morning, I'll sign off now, baby, with my usual I adore you, Phil, and a big hug and a long, long kiss (if you please). We haven't spoken about "home" for some time now. Whatsamatter, baby - you're slippin’ - I guess if you feel the way I do when I talk about, well, we'd better not talk about it - (sigh)

Your Eve


2 February 1945

Dearest Darling,

There isn't much to report today, but before going to the movies to see "Show Business", I thought I'd drop you a few lines, anyways that is, if I can get this torpid brain of mine to make a few revolutions per hour. The weather's always good for a few lines, and maybe by the time I’ve written about that I will have thought of something else to say—

The snow was all washed away by the rain of last night. Today, the sun is making a fairly successful effort to show itself, and while it is still cold, it is far from freezing. In fact, there is a suggestion of Spring in the air. Y'know, Chippie, there's something  about Spring that invariably brings on a resurgence of home-sickness in me—and I do mean “home-sickness”!.

Apparently the mail is still held up, ’cause I haven't received a solitary piece of "Air-Mail" for almost a month. Lady, when it does get here, it'll just about swamp me (but what a lovely way to be swamped!).

As you may have noted in the past, the first few days of the month are always very busy ones for me. Today, for instance, I was kept occupied with mailing out the forms for Soldiers’ Deposits and cabling money from home, and a few other things. I only just now finished up. Tomorrow, I’ll be compiling the Company History for January, and it'll probably be the 5th Feb by the time it's typed and submitted. Then, it's time to make out the pay-roll, and so it goes— 

I'm going to wait ’til my next pass (10 Feb) to see what can be done about engraving that hunk of plexiglass. If I can’t get it done in town, I’ll send it along as is, and perhaps you can get it done in Philly. If not, it doesn’t look too bad in its present state, and you can wear it that way.

I'm in the clear again, financially, but I don't have nearly enough to take a furlough, for which I am eligible about 14 Feb, so I've decided to send a few presents home thru the PX. There is a nice selection to choose from, and I’ve been itching to send some things home for the longest while, but was broke all the time. But, better late than never, I always say—which suggests something else I always say—“I love you, Ev.” (That was too abrupt to be good, but you gotta admit that it was too good an opportunity to pass up entirely—and if it strikes you as being a bit corny, just remember that I mean it just as earnestly as I ever did.)  I do love you, Chippie. I'm kinda “partial” to my little Chippie, too. Give her my love, will you? My love to all.

Ever, Your Phil

Post #567 - February 1, 1945 January Passed Very Quickly and I’m Grateful for It and You Have Troubles Enough of Your Own Without My Having to Burden You with Mine

 

Feb. 1, 1945

Dearest Phil,

January passed very quickly and I’m grateful for it. Perhaps, darling, there won't be too many months to wait for the day of reunion. I'm afraid I'm getting a little optimistic and it's not so good. I felt like a love sick cow all day long. For some funny reason I couldn't get my mind off the topic I had discussed in yesterday's letter - that of having babies. You say I don't know the burning question. *To have or not to have.” Yes, I'm afraid I do, and what's more, I'm afraid. I know that I want you so desperately that nothing but you in the raw will satisfy me once you are mine again. Can you understand, then, why I am so afraid. My mind says no, but my heart and body say yes, yes, yes! The answer is “to have,” but “not to have” for a while. I’m sure, darling, that your desire to have me is only matched by mine for you. It isn't that I don't want to have them, darling. It’s just that I want them, as well as us, to have all those things I (and I'm sure you) feel is due all of us. That’s why I want you to understand that I don't wish to have one for some time yet. I love you all the more for understanding my wishes and you know full well that I’ve always (and always will) satisfy your desires, as best I can - that you may depend on.

My check was the single piece of mail for me, which causes me to remind you of our financial state at the present time. I turned the $17 Jack sent me for the pin I returned into a $25 bond. When your Dec. Jan. bonds arrive, we'll have exactly $1275 in bonds. I am going to deposit the remaining $40 from my allotment check of this month to our account. The account now has $260 and with the additional $40 we'll hit the $300 figure. I am depositing the balance of my allotment check to our account each month and will continue to do so for some time.

I got into work very early this morning as I had oodles of work, and kept busy all day long. I had to leave a little for tomorrow, but I hope to get all caught up then.

I think Eddie is going to take advantage of the government’s offer to send him to college, if and when he feels like it. He readied your shoes for mailing today and they will go off tomorrow. We can’t seem to get anything to make up a decent package. I wanted to send some film, but try and get it. Clara Wagman called last night and promised to come up to dinner on Wednesday night. I still owe her $7.20 for the vitamin pills and I’m tired of owing it to her. I told her if she didn't come up I'd send her a check, but she’ll do her best to come up that night.

I don't know why I'm having such difficulty writing this evening, but I almost hear my mind scratching itself for something to say. I guess the old story, "no news is good news” will have to apply. It’s old but still new, the fact that I love you, my darling husband, and that that love grows stronger with each hour of each day. It's so wonderful to bear the title of Mrs. Phil Strongin, not to mention that of

Your Eve

1 February 1945

My Dearest,

A new month, and if it continues as it started, it should be a good one. A few nice things happened today. The weather changed suddenly, and after a few hours of rain last night that washed away every vestige of January's snows, the temperature climbed and the sun showed itself for the first time in days. There was even a hint of spring in the fresh breeze. Then, this afternoon, I came back from the Tech Site to find four of your V-mails waiting in the Orderly Room. They are all about Fay and her great misfortune, the party in honor of Syd's homecoming, and your usual detailed account of your comings and goings. You certainly are a busy lady these days, Sweet. You certainly don't get as much rest as you should have, and I’m a little fearful that you might overdo it. But I know now that you appreciate the importance of rest and sleep, and I trust you to get as much of both as you are able. I thought it most considerate of you to spend so much time with Fay in her recent bereavement. God grant that no more such misfortunes befall our friends. Your letters, incidentally, are dated 20, 21, 22, 23 Jan., and I’m pleased to note that you made the most of the rather limited space on the forms. 

Last night, after a very busy and trying day (trying because everything seemed to go wrong), I wrote a V-mail to you. I was feeling low and bitter at the time, and unfortunately, I pored my feelings out in the letter. I even dropped it in the mail box here in the Orderly Room. Then I went to the second show to see "I Loved a Soldier" with Paulette Goddard and Sonny Tufts. Capt. Crane was good enough to drop me off at the theater. I liked the picture very much. Comedy and pathos were nicely blended. There wasn't too much of either. Walking back I got to thinking about the V-mail I had written, and by the time I got back to the area I had made up my mind to tear it up, and that I did as soon as I got back. God knows, honey, you have troubles enough of your own without my having to burden you with mine. Sometimes no letter is better than one which would only cause you concern, at least that is how I feel about it. I think you will agree, darling, and thus be able to forgive me for the fact that you will receive one letter dated 31 Jan. from me. 

Tonight finds me pulling my regular trick of CQ again. I had planned on writing a few letters beside this one (at least one to Mom), but it has been a hard day and I'm very weary. My mind just doesn't seem to want to function any more. Please ask Mom to be patient a while longer, and I'll do my best to get a letter off to her within the next few days. I've had more trouble than usual this past month trying to keep up with my correspondence, and I suspect that Jack N., Mom, Goldie, Gloria and a few others whom I “owe” letters must be pretty discouraged with me. Truly, Sweet, I have so little free time, that when I am unoccupied, I want nothing better than to just sit and do nothing - not even think, and certainly not write. So, when I do write to anyone but you, it requires a real effort of will, and I'm not always up to it. This isn't meant to be a justification for my failure to write as often as I should - I realize it isn’t a worthy excuse, but I do mean to apologize for my fault. I hope the “aggrieved” parties are magnanimous enough to forgive it. 

My schedule tonight is kinda "rough", 'cause I must wake the guards at 1:00 A.M; the mess-sergeant at 4:00; the K.P.’s at 5:00; and the company at 6:00. This only allows for cat-naps between those times, and if past performances are any criterion, I'll be a pretty tired and sleepy fellow tomorrow morning. Fortunately, I am permitted to sleep from 8:00 ’til 11:00!

But it is twenty minutes past "date-time", sweetheart, and I'm very drowsy, so I know you'll excuse me if I end this here and grab a nap until 1:00 A.M.—

Good night, my lovely. No need to tell you how much I miss you at this very moment - l think you know! No need to tell you either, that I love you very dearly, ’cause you know that, too. But I love to tell you, anyway, so please bear with me once again while I whisper my love to you and kiss you, oh, so tenderly—My dearest love to our precious Adele, and a kiss from her adoring

Daddy Phil

Post #566 - January 31, 1945 Oh, Darling, to Think that MAYBE ’45 will be THE Year!

 

Jan. 31, 1945 

Dearest Hubby,

Tonight, upon arriving home, I found three geeorgeous letters waiting for me and they made me feel very, very mellow. They were your letters of 15,16 Jan. and v-mail of 19/Jan. I was very much surprised when you told me that Mike and Frances were expecting again. I called her just before starting this to see if she had anything to say about it, but she said nary a word. Mike left for Panama a week ago and she is still awaiting some word from him. I feel terribly sorry for her if she is pregnant for she is all alone at the apartment and has no where to go. In fact, I think the whole thing is so completely ridiculous that I'd rather not discuss it. As you know, I have some pretty definite ideas on the subject of having babies and they haven't changed any. As for my kidding about having another - it's just that - kidding - until such time as we get together and can talk sensibly about it. Even at that, I do not wish to as much as think about actually having one for many years and by that I mean at least two to three years. How did I get to talking about it anyway?

Eddie was supposed to make up your package today, but he couldn't get some of the things I wanted to put in and it will have to wait another day. I have everything readied and it is only a matter of getting a few more items and actual packing it.

Thanks, sweet, for straightening me out on the matter of your weight. No, I don't believe you are heavier and I'll be glad when you are home and can go to Young's or the Broadwood to keep in good form. As for my weight, I think I've gained though I do not wish to weigh myself. The last two dresses I bought were size 13, which is larger than I have ever worn. My blue and dubonnet wool simply burst on me and that is a size 11. No, dear, I haven't gained to any great extent but I feel and look better both in face and figure. You, more than anyone, would be the best judge of that, so until such time as you can judge for yourself you'll have to take my word for it.

By the way, who's going to be with Adele those nights "we'll" go to gym together - or hadn't you given that a second thought?

I'm sorry I forgot to inform you that Etta and Nat did receive your letter and got quite a big kick out of it. They told me all about it the night I went to the Browns’ house to see Syd. Everyone has been kidding about them, you know, cause since the nurse left, Etta has been so terribly busy that she sometimes does not find the time to get dressed. Nat said she was slowly, but surely, getting used to the idea and in due time should be able to manage somehow,

You've really got me thinking about the present you have for me. I'm most anxious to see it, sweet, and I can't imagine what it is, unless, maybe, it is a pin. That would be coincidental since I just returned the pin I bought in New York. I've decided that I would rather not spend that kind of money on a pin that doesn't look the value and get a colorful necklace for the lemon colored dress instead. I'd also like to have one bracelet and a colorful pair of earrings to set it off, if and when I get around to it.

You haven't mentioned writing to S & D or the girls to thank them for the package and I'm a little disappointed in you for not doing so. Clara specifically asked me to make sure you sent them some sort of thanks and you haven't mentioned it to date. I hope you'll make it your business to do so immediately for they certainly have been nice to you.

Both Goldie and I received invitations to attend the shower to be held at Betty's house on Feb. 6th for Abe's girl, whose name is also Evelyn. Abe met her the day he came home from overseas and they are going to be married within the next few weeks. Her second name is Feldman, so she won't have to change it at all. Speaking of Goldie reminds me to tell you that Harry hasn't given up the station as yet nor, as far as I can see, has he any intention of doing so. If that is the case he must be making a living to want to stick to it for if he weren't he certainly would drop it like a hot potato. Goldie received a check for $100, the retirement money due her by the government and she claims there is still another hundred due her. She and Harry are staying in town for dinner this evening and intend to do some shopping for some necessities.

I eat all by my lonesome each evening, darling, cause I can't wait till Harry gets home to eat with the family. He usually gets home about 7:30 or later and by that time I am getting Adele readied for bed. Tonight I had your letters for company and they helped a lot. Did I tell you that I miss you so much that I - I did?? well, whaddya know.

Dot called me during the course of this letter to read me your letter and to tell me just how much good it did her morale. Thanks for sending me your love through her, too, baby, and I hereby return it with interest, if such is possible. I calí Fay daily to let her know that I am thinking of her and she appreciates it greatly. I wish I could get over there more often, but it is out of the question and much too injurous to my well being. She was left alone for the first time yesterday and said, "I don't like it, Ev, cause I feel it too strongly then". Poor kid! There's lots I'd like to tell you about her and her mother, (whom I'm not too fond of) but I get to feeling very low and would rather drop the subject right this second.

As soon as I got home from work yesterday I got into my nightie and robe, to be sure I'd get to bed early. Imagine my surprise when the door bell rang about 9 and in walked Anne, to pay me a visit. She wanted to go to the movies, but I had no intentions of getting dressed again, even though I knew I'd get little sleep. I never did get to bed till one and I was fairly tired at work by late afternoon. I've been terribly busy every day this week at work and I've got a whole stack lined up for tomorrow. Mr. B asked me to please try to get in a little early and I'll make every effort to do so. He's very pleased with my work (Anne told me that he commented about it to her this morning before I came in). I've taken over many jobs I never did before, such as applying for priorities, taking care of claims on shortages, damages, etc. and many other little jobs. Besides all this I write most of his correspondence myself, so that he'll be free to attend to more pressing matters.

The news of the Russian drive for Berlin excites me just a little bit for the first time in months. I'm afraid to let myself think about it - oh, darling, to think that maybe ’45 will be the year!

I can't imagine what makes you feel so queerly about Lee. I'm usually the one to feel that way, and I don't feel that way about Lee. Lennie and she made the tedious trip from Tenn. to New York (I thought it very ridiculous) and she held up well. No, she isn't a very healthy person, but I hope she'll bear her child naturally and be healthier for it.

I'm wearing the "yocket" today and Adele keeps saying, "Mommy you're wearing my yocket". I took her upstairs to the bathroom a short while ago to make sissy and started to undress her for bed. She said to me, "Mommy, I'm a dood dirl. Let me go downstairs and run around and play." I promised her she could if she let me put her sleepers on first. She looks awfully cute with her sleepers of light blue and her slippers of royal blue. She has all her toys sprawled across the living room floor and is quite busy making a general mess. Every once in a while she repeats something she hears over the radio. She looks and speaks like a regular grownup at times. When she sees any letter, she says, "Mail for you, mommy, from daddy" or something equally cute. What a kid!

I intend to write a few letters before the evening is out, darling, so I know you'll forgive me if I cut short suddenly????? Anyway I think I'm just about writ out and you must admit I've really outdone myself this evening.

daddy dear mommy is letting me send you my love myself (she just remarked to Mom that she is writing to daddy). My arm is almost broke from holding her and making her type. Good night, sweetness, I adore you to bits and then some.

Your Eve

P. S. Clara, just called and told me about your letter that was received by the girls at S & D. I'm sorry about bawling you out and am glad you did write. More tomorrow.

January 31st, 1945

P.F.C. Harry Weinman

33,072,683

18th CML. MAIT. co France

A-P-O 667

U.S. ARMY

FRANCE

Dear Phil,

Hya doin. Although I already wrote you once from this address I still didn’t hear from you since I last saw you. I hope everything is O.K. with you. Everything here is O.K. In case you didn’t receive my letter I will tell you once more that I am now with a regular outfit. We are somewhere’s about 250 miles southeast of Paris. We are in the center of the town. We live in a chateau. The men & officers here are O.K. We also have the best of food. There has been quite a bit of snow lately. The weather here gets below zero sometimes. That’s about the news here. I received a few letters from home & one from Bea & Ruthie since I left England, which was a few days after you have seen me. That’s about all there is to write about now. Take it easy. Write.

Your cousin—Harry

P.S.—Could you please send me one coin of each in English money. Thanks.

Post #565 - January 30, 1945 Adele is Not Afraid of the Dark Any Longer and My Heart Goes Out to Fay, and to All Those Young Wives and Mothers Who Lost Their Life’s Most Precious Possession When Their Husbands Fell in Battle

 

Jan. 30, 1945

My Sweet,

I malled off my "longie" of yesterday this morning, and as I promised, I am writing again this evening. Eddie is going to make up and mail off the package I promised you tomorrow - at long last. Perhaps we'll have enough to make two packages.

I reread your letter of Jan. 14th just now and have a remark to make. Adele is not afraid of the dark any longer, or at least, not at the present time. Today, just before I left for work, she said to me, “Tiss me, mommy;” and when I finished kissing her, she said, "I'll see ya tonight, mommy’.

I had a million things to say to you over the weekend and had hoped to write an even longer letter than I did yesterday, but, somehow, all the thoughts get caught when I start to feel the want of you.

I called Dot from work and she is rather disappointed about not hearing from you for so long. I think it's about time you did get short note off to her, don't you? It's just possible that she may take Harold and join Snuff. She's awaiting further word from him. I may go out to see Dot this weekend, as I'm most anxious to get myself some clothes and I like to shop out there.

The weather here continues to be cold and everything is very icy. I've been wearing galoshes for weeks and I'm beginning to wonder what it will be like to go without them.

You know, baby, that Jan. 27th marked our third (or should I say “my" third) year at 4906. So much has happened in that time!

The news continues so good, that I'm afraid to let myself believe it. I'd rather be pessimistic and be surprised than the other way. Phil, does your heart tell you that you'll see me in ’45. Somehow I can't conceive of it, much as I would like and want to. When I went out with Jack N. on Sunday night, I remarked, “This is almost like a date!” He said, "Whaddya mean, like a date, it is a date!" I guess he was a little hurt by the remark, but he did understand what I really meant. It’s so long since I've been out on a date that I forget what it's like and the thrill of just having an escort made me feel good. It made me want you more than anything! Phil, darling, I love you so very much and no matter what I do or whom I’m with or what I am thinking, you are foremost in my mind each second. It's you and only you, baby, that makes me go, or care about anything - you! Jack couldn't really see what you saw in me at first, but he knows now. He kept comparing me to Marjorie, whom he hopes to make his wife, and he said we are so much alike it is startling. He says she's built like me (except that he thinks I have nicer legs) and she’s as tall as I am. She is 24. I want Jack to be happy more than anything, sweetheart, but just between you and me I hope this doesn't work out. I shall be disappointed in him if he marries out of his faith and I've told that to him many times. He has thought about all the complications, and the fact that he may not be able to see and be with us or possibly live near us hurts him deeply. He knows he wants to marry her, but the actually marrying is another problem. We shall see—I’m sorry I must write v-mail again, dear, but I have so little time for anything more. I adore you and am

Your Eve

30 January 1945

Dearest Chippie,

Your V-mails of 18th and 19th Jan. arrived today. They were a mixture of good news and bad. The good news was of the arrival of Marilyn Carole Drucker (what-another girl!), and the bad news about Fay's Morris, may he rest in peace. Poor Fay, my heart goes out to her, and to all those young wives and mothers who lost their life's most precious possession when their husbands fell in battle. I still haven't conquered that tendency to feel a deep bitterness and resentment whenever I hear or read of husbands and fathers, and, yes, even sons being killed in battle. It's all so senseless and ugly and contrary to all the instincts and intentions of God and nature. Instead of getting used to war, and the slaughter it entails, I find that I despise the human race that they are powerless to eliminate this greatest scourge of civilization. Sometimes I get so riled up while contemplating it that I'm almost beside myself with the feeling of impotency to do anything about it. But enough of this—

The weather remains bitter cold, and a clean, white blanket of snow lies over all. It's ironical that we soldiers here move and live and work in an atmosphere so peaceful, while an hour's flight away all is war and violence and destruction. I don't know why I must think this way today—I think the news about Morris has impressed me more than I thought—

I think the best thing I could do would be to end this letter right here, but I don’t know why I should deprive you, Sweet, because I happen to be feeling morbid—so I’ll try to think of something pleasant to fill out the rest of this page.

I hope, Chippie, that you didn't forget your intention of having the punkin photographed when you got back from New York. You said you would, you know. I find myself thinking more and more about her as time goes by, and the more I try to imagine what she must be like, the more I miss her, and the keener grows my desire to see her—or the next best thing—her likeness. I hope, Chippie, that you'll also have another photograph made of yourself while you are at the studio. It's a year or more since your had your pictures made by C. Pruett, and I'd like very much to see a newer version of my two girls. Maybe you could prevail on Mom to take her picture at the same time. The three of you together would really be wonderful. Will you, honey? I’ll reciprocate at once if you'll do this for me—that's a promise. Room enough to say “I love you, my darlings. My love to Mom, and tell her I’ll write before another week goes by. My love to H+ G+D and all the Pallers.

Devotedly,
Your Phil

Post #564 - January 29, 1945 Ed Looks Fine, But Really, Phil, He Has Changed Completely and The Armies in the West, Under Gen. Eisenhower, are Going to Cut Loose Soon

 

Jan. 29, 1945

My dearest Phil,

This is the first letter I have written to you since Friday night, Jan. 26th. I feel very guilty about not writing all that time, but I'm very sure you'll understand why once I proceed to explain. In fact, I believe this will be a long, long, "longie", cause I have plenty to say to make up for the time I didn't write.

After writing to you on Friday, I hit the hay, only to experience a sleepless night. I guess all the excitement of the evening took its toll on me for I was sicker than a dog. I found it difficult to breathe and I felt so nauseous that I found it difficult to lay down for even a minute, for fear that I would throw up. My tummy felt queer and, sort of nervous. I was glad when the dawn appeared and I could dress and go downstairs. I couldn't touch any food whatever and settled for a nice big cup of hot tea and lemon, which set me straight almost immediately, except for some gnawing pains in the stomach. Mr. Bellet and my dad called for me at eight, as usual, on Saturday morning, and I went along. Adele had chosen to sleep till the last minute, so I just had time to get her dressed and my mother stayed here to feed her before taking her over to 4920.

I worked my usual five hours and received a pay of $27.42, after the deductions of $1.08 were made. I put in 38 hours last week. Eddie and Ruth were to meet us at the place at 1:30 as we had all previously arranged to spend the afternoon in town, eating lunch, seeing a show, etc. I was kind of leery about whether or not I could go along, but by the time they showed up I was feeling pretty chipper. We had lunch at H & H, after Mr. Bellet had chatted with Ed a short while.. My lunch consisted of creamed potatoes, a chicken crocket and more tea with lemon. I felt lots better after lunch. We decided to go to the Earle. On the way over, one of those street photographers made some pictures of Ruth and Ed. I was going to get in, but didn't think I looked too well for taking pictures. The show at the Earle was grand. It consisted of a class B picture called "Johnny Doesn't Live Here Any More" with Simone Simone and James Ellison which deals with the rooming situation in Washington. For a class "B", it was pretty good and I laughed at some of the really funny scenes. The stage show consisted of Tony Pastor and company and James Barton. The music, clowning and dancing were all lively and entertaining and the whole show was by far the best I had seen in many a month. It did me a world of good. My dad, Ed and Ruth enjoyed it as much as I did.

We headed straight home after the show, as I had promised my mother we would be home about seven, so she could get finished with supper and Adele. I had called the house to learn that there were two letters from Jack N. for me. When we got home, I stopped here to pick up my mail and went over to my mother's for dinner. One of the envelopes contained a $17 money order from Jack for the pin which I told you I wanted to return. The other was a nice letter and he promised to come to see me soon. In the midst of dinner (which was quite a light one for me with a large bowl of hot tea and a shot of whiskey to put on the finishing touches) the phone rang and I heard a male voice say to Ed, "Don't tell her who it is". It was Jack N. and he was here at 4906. I dressed Adele and came right over. Jack ate dinner with the folks, as I had had mine, and I put Adele to bed and did whatever else necessary while they ate. Adele was friendly with "Uncle Shock" (Adele pronounces Jack as a Frenchy would) and undoubtedly he will write all about the visit in his next letter.

Goldie and Harry were going to the movies that evening and asked if we cared to go along, but we didn't. Instead we stayed in, read over several of your letters, talked about many things with Mom, and about 11 o'clock we both went to see Fay, whom I had promised to see that night. Jack and I stayed till 12 and came home. We all had tea or milk and cake and hit the hay. When I got upstairs it was 2 o'clock and someone rang the bell. It developed that Ed was out with his girlfriend Ruth and had forgotten his key. So I told him to come in and go right to sleep with Jackie, which he did.

I got up early Sunday morning and by the time I finished with Adele and straightened up it was time for breakfast. Ed stayed for that too, and stayed for dinner in the evening besides. By the time we all had breakfast it was time to give Adele lunch and get her to bed for her nap. Ruth came over and she, Jack and I dragged out our album of pictures and went through it. In the meantime, in walked the Brownies with Sylvia. Before they left we took some snaps, as it just happened that Syd had a camera and film, which was more than I could manage to obtain anywhere. We took one snap of Adele alone, one of Jack, Adele and me and one of all the Browns, Adele, Ruth and myself. I hope they turn out, for they are the first snaps I've taken in weeks, or is it months. Adele still had tiny traces of a cold, which is due mostly to the cutting of her two year molars. It is this mainly that has kept me from calling in a photographer, as I want her to look, as well as feel good, when I have her picture made.

By the time the Brownies left it was time for dinner. I gave Adele hers and then we ate. It was decided that Jack, Ed, Ruth (Ed's girl) and I would go out together. I was dying to see "Mrs. Parkington" which was playing at the Rockland and which Ed and Ruth had seen that very afternoon. We let them go to the Logan to see something else and we saw Mrs. P. Phil don't miss it - I think it is an excellent picture and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I wore my lemon colored dress with red beads and Jack thought it was a snazzy outfit. We met Ed and Ruth after the show and went to Snyder's where we all had double decker sandwiches and malteds. Ed took Ruth home and Jack and I got right home and right to bed as it was almost two and Jack had to make an 8 o'clock train. I gave him the alarm clock, but 8 o'clock this morning I woke him myself. Evidently he hadn't heard the alarm go off. By the time he got dressed and I made him breakfast, he just had time to dash out of here to make a ten o'clock train.

I felt pretty good, considering that I hadn't had any real sleep for almost three nights. As soon as I was ready, I took Adele over to my mother's and went to work. I was so dam busy all day at work that I didn't have time to eat the sandwich I brought along, nor did I feel like eating. I settled for an apple and some peanut butter crackers, which Anne brings along daily from their grocery store.

Goldie called me during the course of the day to tell me that there were two letters from you, darling. It was good to get home this evening and find your long letter of 14/Jan. and V-mail of 18/Jan. waiting for me. My dearest one, I love you so much! Your letter of 14th was very lovely and replied to a great extent to the letters I had written during the month of December. I'm particularly glad that I returned the pin, now that you "gave" with what was a very pleasant surprise for me. So you're having something made for me. I can't help wondering what it is and I shall be anxiously awaiting its arrival. I sure do wish I could count on your coming along with it, sweet.

You may be right about the GI loan, but I still feel that it wouldn't hurt one little bit to get off to a good start of our own. I'd much rather not borrow, and the less we do have to borrow the better. But we shall see - one day. As for settling in Mass., well, baby, any place you are is good enough for me, if it's what you want. Adele's walking continues to improve and I make fun of it often to call it to her attention. She'll get out of it, baby, so don't worry about it.

By the way, it is one A.M. After having dinner and bathing ?? Adele, I was so exhausted I lay down for a minute, that turned into three hours. Now that I had a nap I feel refreshed and decided to get on with this so I could get it posted first thing in the morning.

As you may have noted, sweet, I spoke in a very general way of what I did this past weekend. Incidentally, baby, please try to get your hands on a 1945/Feb. Reader's Digest. There is an article called "And the Deaf Shall Hear", which deals entirely with Jack's operation and the ear specialist who performed the operation, Dr. Julius Lempert. Jack has what is known as otosclerosis and this article explains it fully. I know you'll find it very interesting. If you can't get a Digest, let me know, and I'll send one right along. By the way, I never did get the package off to you. However, Ed has promised to pack and mail it for me tomorrow or the next day, providing I get a carton and the paper and twine. I readied two small cartons at work, but neglected to bring them home. I'll definitely bring them tomorrow, so that I can get the package off. The delay annoys me, as I know you need the shoes. Ed brought no less than eight overseas packages home with him and since he refuses to touch any. kind of sweets whatever, he is letting me take whatever I want to complete the package I have for you. Ed's skin broke out badly and he is trying to clear it by staying away from sweets. Ed told me to tell you that he intends to write you a twenty page letter telling you in detail all that's happened to him since he last saw you. It may take him a few days to get around it, but he told me to tell you to expect it, so I'm obeying orders. Ed looks fine, but really, Phil, he has changed completely. He's very matured, and more nervous than I ever remember him. He has a funny far-away look in his eyes sometimes and has to force himself to think very clearly about what he has to say, before he says it. It's easy to see that he's been through a lot and though he may have put it on thickly, he is far from being normal. It's such a thrill to him not to have to take orders and be his own boss! As Jack said, "I hope he's the start of better things to come."

And now to Jack. His hearing is much better than what it was when I was in New York. He's looking better now that he has regained some of the weight he lost after the operation. His hearing is still not better than it was previous to the operation, but it is almost on a par, and he's hoping for better things every day. (I just noted that I used "better" three times and since I'm "tripling", to coin a word, if I may, I think I'll get to bed and continue on this in the morning.)

Jan. 30, 1945

Good morning, baby, here I am again, only I'm really rested this time and my mind is clear. I was so exhausted yesterday that the whole day seems like a dream. I won't have time to continue on this now, honey, So I shall close now and write another letter later. Anne, the bookkeeper, used to work for a beauty concern and got me some Revlon lipstick wholesale. A $1.20 tube cost me 72¢. It's called "Rosy Future" and I'm sending some along and hope that the smell holds. I adore you, angel, and now I must rush, if I'm to get to work at all. A big kiss -

Your Eve

29 Jan. 1945

My Darling,

Took it easy all day today. I slept in ’til lunch-time, when I rose, dressed, washed and walked down to the mess-hall. Snow and ice are everywhere, and I had a coupla near falls on the way. Stopped in at the Aero Club on the way back and read today's good news in the British newspapers. There is a great, big fire place in the lounge of the club, and I spent a pleasant few hours there. The Russian drive seems irresistible, and one wonders what the nazis can possibly do now to check it. The tremendous weight of men and guns the Reds are throwing into the battle must far surpass anything the germans have (or had, for that matter). There are signs, too, that the Armies in the West under Gen. Eisenhower are going to cut loose soon. The “bulge” has been eradicated, and it’s just a question of building up before the final plunge, which anyone can plainly see, will spell “finis” for the nazis. I’m so sure that this will all happen in the very near future (say within a month or two), that I am asking myself “what then?” Well, Chippie, we may be very sure that one of two things will happen to me, once the European conflict ends; (1) I will be shipped home (2) I will shipped to the Pacific Theater. Of the two, I am inclined to think that the former will be the case, but, of course, I can't be sure. In any case, whatever happens, I know now I can count on you to keep your chin up, so I can face any prospect with at least a semblance of equanimity.

Tonight I will be busy sewing. Yes, I said sewing! Don’t laugh, Chippie—you’d be surprised when I can do when I am forced into it and I have been forced into it. Seems like we have to have all our 8th Air Force patches, chevrons, Hershey bars, ribbons, etc. on our clothes, and I have quite a bit of stitching to do.

There was still no mail today, and I can’t think of another solitary thing to say.. A coupla the fellows want me to play some pinochle now, honey, so I'll sign off for the time being with all my love to you, and the punkin, and all the family.

Forever,
Your Phil

Post #563 - January 28, 1945 The Guy Who was to have Cleaned and Pressed my Trousers Couldn't Do So because There was No Hot Water in the Ablution

28 January 1945

Dearest Darling,

Today being the first day of my pass, I took in the matinee at the base theater. This evening, I had intended to go into town to see Bert and Evelyn, and to find out what I could do about getting your present (ain’t I the stubborn one?) engraved. Unfortunately, the guy who was to have cleaned and pressed my trousers couldn't do so because there was no hot water in the ablution. So it looks very much like it’ll be another two weeks before I can get to town. Maybe if I hold off a little while longer, it will reach you some time in March - say about the 20th or 28th - get it?

The picture this afternoon was pretty good, except for one nauseating interlude of “flag-waving.” It was “An American Romance" with Brian Donlevy and Ann Richards. The latter is a very lovely newcomer to the screen, but her performance was every bit as satisfying as her beauty was edifying. The story is one that any school boy could have written, but the scope and magnitude of the pictography and the embellishing beauty of the technicolor made made the whole thing worth while. "Take it Big,” a class "C" musical, which I saw last night, proved a stinkeroo in every respect.

There was no fresh mail today, Chippie, and things in general around here have been uncommonly dull, so I’m having a helluva time thinking of what to say— 

Right now, I'm comfortably ensconced on my bunk. It is warm and cozy here in the hut - thanks to a good wood fire in the stove, and I'm getting drowsier by the minute. My mind just doesn't seem capable of functioning to any extent, and I'm trying desperately to think of the wherewithal for just one more paragraph to fill this page—

I’ve just been consulting your last letter for an inspiration, but nothing doing. I did notice, though, that I failed to acknowledge your concern about my Nov. & Dec. War Bonds. Never fear, honey, they’ll turn up eventually - and if they don’t, I have the
company pay-rolls to show that the deductions have been made. I'll wait a while longer and then institute inquiries as to what has been holding them up. 

These last three lines are just enough to permit me to tell you for the first time (today) that I adore you, my Evie, and to send a kiss and a hug to my punkin, and my love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil