Post #609 - March 19, 1945 Adele is At a Stage Where She Wears the Nerves of the Strongest to a Frazzle and I Visited With the Marks’ the Whole Day

 

March 19, 1945 

Phil, dearest,

Today I hit the "real" jackpot, getting your letter, or should I say, “manuscript" of 22 pages and honestly, sweet, I was on needles all day long, as I hadn't the time to read it through. I read a snap of it going down to work, a snatch of it at work, a snatch coming home and finally, at home, I managed to get it all read. However, I want to reread it many times, so that I may absorb it fully. It makes interesting reading and is beautifully written - I'm proud of you! Really would like to comment on many phases of it, but there is so little time, especially for writing of that caliber. I love to write when I'm relaxed, and really could write reams, but I'm always so tired and busy with other "musts" that I lose patience quickly. I haven't been feeling well and am trying to rest as much as possible. I've been feeling nauseous for the past three days and attribute it to three things: Adele's not sleeping and teething, my "period"! and the unusually warm weather. When Adele doesn't sleep, I can't either and it makes it tough all around. Adele is at a stage where she wears the nerves of the strongest to a frazzle and I'm never relaxed while she is awake. I never completely relax unless she is fast asleep. At the present time her eating is poor, her sleeping is poor and she's cranky most of the time, making it difficult for both my mother and me. I’m intensely relieved that I do not have to be with Adele constantly or my nervous system would crack. You have to go through all sorts of stages, with kids and there isn't any need to tell you how happy I'll be when the “teething" part of it is over - completely,

There were also four v-mails for me from you, dearest, those of March 8, 9, 10, 11, all of which were most interesting, sweet and welcome. No, I don't mind the brevity of your letters, as long as I have them regularly to keep my spirits up. You say in one of your v-mails that you go to class for instruction in "classification" (what is that?). Your v-mail of the 9th just about reached me on our anniversary and was very loving and just the sort I felt like receiving.

I have the opportunity to get this "longie" off tonight, as I do not think I'll have much heart for anything tomorrow. Little did I dream that our "fourth” would be spent in this way, but I sort of felt it way down deep. It hurts so much to see them pass without having you - I quote from yours of the 9th, "Sometimes, Chippie, I find myself wondering if you can ever possibly know the fullest extent of my love for you - if you could ever actually feel exactly how I think about you” - It's a funny thing, baby, and it probably won't surprise you to know that I think and feel the exact same way many times, I just feel that there isn't enough to show you how much I really do love you - Phil - Words are even useless to express how deep my feelings go -

I am changing to black, for I believe it's easier to read than red. I wanted to give the red tape a break this evening. There is nothing else in any of the v-mails that inspires comment from me. I could say "oodles" about the 22 page letter, and would, if I had the time, but I want to tell you a few other things before signing off. It gives me great pleasure to know that you had such a splendid furlough and that you enjoyed yourself so thoroughly, that you made friends with people you like and who like you and that you saw so much. Need I add that I would have liked nothing better than to be with you, to enjoy it with you. I did, though, through the medium of your letter and wish to thank you for all your trouble and time spent writing it. Not receiving mail for such a long time bothered me to a great extent and I hope you understood why I was so disgusted when none showed up for such a time, I prefer the v-mails, as long as they come through regularly - enough said?

Yesterday I ended my v-mail to you with, "I am about to have my first taste of champagne". Adele sat with me on the dining room arm-chair and we ate together. I spent more time on her than I did on my dinner, as I did not want her to run about, and consequently, did not enjoy the meal as much as I thought I would. The Silvers had brought seven large rib-steaks that Rose (Goldie's stepmother) and Mom broiled for dinner. There was also peas, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, pickles, soda, vegetable soup and dessert. Champagne tastes like sour ginger ale and I think I could like it very much, once I acquired a taste for it, but I don't think it would pay me to acquire a taste for it. I even gave Adele a whee taste but she simply made a very wry face. Goldie's folks gave her a check (I don't know for what amount - she didn't say), two slips, two nightgowns and several other things for her birthday. Goldie's dad just can't do enough for her - he’d like to lay the world at her feet and probably could if given the chance. He started to cry when he had to leave and so did her brother. That's the Silver males for you. I like Rose immensely, but she's always rushing like mad and in spite of it she accomplishes a lot and looks good. He wants Goldie to come to Poughkeepsie with Diana this summer and stay a while. I never, in all my life, saw a father so devoted to his children as Mr. Silver is to his. My mother, with her small resources, has done all she could for me and my folks have been positively swell, nevertheless, I have never seen a father behave as Mr. Silver does. Even Uncle Sam is completely outshined by Mr. Silver.

Adele napped at my mother's in the afternoon, while I typed a long magilla for my mom to her attorney, concerning further settlement of the balance of the estate. It's much too complicated to discuss sensibly, so I won't attempt it. Suffice it to say that I typed for about two hours. Moreover, I had more ambition for typing at the time than I had for jumping over the moon. However, I had promised to do it for days and the attorney was waiting most patiently for it. So I "dooed" it.

After dinner, the Silvers took their leave. They trained to New York, where Mr. Silver had left his car and from New York to Poughkeepsie they drove. I took Adele upstairs straightaway for it was past seven and from seven to ten that kid just annoyed me to death. First it was "watee", then "sissy", then “milk", then "pick me up", then just plain "mommy" and so on. I couldn't understand why she wasn't sleepy, as she had arisen exceptionally early in the morning and hadn't slept most of the night. Try to figure those kids out and you'd really get a headache. By the way, Adele calls the lamps on our night tables "Mommy’s girl" and "Daddy's boy". She talks a blue streak about the doll you sent her and the fact that the doll's name is "Betty Jane". If ever you thought I could talk, honey, well I advise you not to get Adele started. She could give me a run for my money any day. Mickey and Rae came over in the evening to taste the remains of the champagne. Harry wound up the evening by buying ice-cream, pretzels and soda. When they called me down for ice-cream I had to take Adele down with me to share it, for she wouldn't stop crying. Even after I had let her have her share and play a bit, she didn't want to go up. When I finally got her into her crib, she cried some more - but she simply cried, for I refused to go up. In a few minutes all was still - blessed stillness and peace. God, what I wouldn't give for some plain ordinary peace and relaxation and rest! Maybe some day -

I spent the remainder of the evening fixing hems on Adele's three new pairs of overalls, which I described in yesterday's v-mail. The three pairs of chocolate brown, aqua and light blue gabardine cost me exactly $5.54, all totaled.

Adele hadn't a thing for every day wear and still requires many things which I intend to buy each week. It's a tough proposition trying to outfit her and myself at the same time. One of us has to do without in order for me to manage on my salary, and the only reason I have been spending so much is due to the fact that I have been making more money the past few weeks. However, I do not intend to put in any more extra time, as it is too tiring and I don't believe we'll be as busy as we were. I had to keep up with my work or I would have been snowed under with it. I'm up to date and keeping a steady pace at the moment. We're having the girl come in once a week to clean, so I have very little to do in the house these days and I'm most grateful for that.

While I was walking around with Adele on Sunday morning, I passed by Jean Levin's house and her mother called me in. I left Adele with Ruth and went in. Jean is now in France and visited the place where Eddie Strongin is located. She couldn't stay long enough to see him, but she left a note for him, saying that she had been there and told her mother to tell me about it. Her mother gave me her address and I shall write to her, when the time presents itself. I've been leaving the house about 10:30 in the morning and I don't get back till 6:45. By the time I read my mail, eat, put Adele to bed (bathe her) and get some clothes washed it is very late. Then I either write my letter and or letters, knit or try to relax before getting to bed. It's the same routine daily, without a break, unless I feel up to going out after nine in the evening, which I usually don't.

We rented our garage to Feldman, the druggist, to store his car and are asking the boy scouts to vacate, Mickey also told me something of interest to you. Remember Sol Shubert? Well, he was at Bastogne when the Germans hit and together with four other fellows hid in the woods for five days without food until they were sure of safety. Sol and the others are in hospitals in France, resting from the terrific ordeal.

It is past eleven now, sweet, and I must take my leave if I'm to have any sleep at all. I really feel like writing on and on - especially this being the eve of our fourth anniversary. I want to say all those loving things that overflow as I sit and think of "you" and "us" and our daughter and all that we've been through these many years, together and apart, I think we've both changed somewhat, if only in wisdom with the years. We shall be truly happy some day when we're together once more. Good night, dearest one, and may you soon be with us, who love you so dearly.

Your Evvie

19 March 1945

Dearest Darling,

I am using V-mail this morning because what I have to say of my activities since I wrote yesterday can be told in a few sentences—I visited with the Marks’ the whole day. Zena, Mrs. Marks’ sister, was busily engaged in bathing Stanley in the dining-room when I walked in. Helena, who had just had her bath, was in her underwear, and looked as fresh and fragrant as a rose-bud. Carol was already dressed, and greeted me at the door like I were a long-lost uncle. She’s such a vivacious little tyke, and so sweet, that I just had to pick her up and hold her. Mark finally procured a store on the next street, so he moved his business from the front room of the house to the shop, and furnished it as a living-room. He also installed a nice piano, and Helena is taking lessons. Mrs. Marks also plays. While they were all having lunch, I fooled around in the living-room on the piano. I had eaten at the Red Cross Club. I spent the afternoon with Mark, watching him work in his new shop, and the evening and night at the house, where Mrs. Marks made me a delicious platter of fried American salami and eggs. About 9:30, two more G.I.’s dropped in. Mark had some “feelthy pictures,” which he showed around. From then on, Mark and one of the G.I.’s took turns telling dirty jokes, which both Mrs. Marks and Zena seemed to enjoy, but which made me squirm because I wasn’t accustomed to that sort of thing in mixed company. I left at 11:00 and went back to the Red Cross and turned in. This morning, I was up and dressed by 9 o’clock, got the papers, had breakfast, and proceeded to my writing. At long last I managed to get a letter off to Dr. and Mrs. Davis. I started this directly afterward. Now it’s almost time for lunch, so I’ll sign off now with all my love to you, my darling, a kiss and a hug for Adele, and my love to all the Strongins and Pallers. See you tomorrow, honey—

Lovingly,

Your Phil

Post #608 - March 18, 1945 I’m Going to Have My First Taste of Champagne Tonight and According to the Military Analysts, the Last Big Battle to Occupy Germany and End the War, is Now Shaping

March 18, 1945

My dearest,

Last night I was so ill I thought I’d die. I finally got unwell, but it seemed as if a terrific force hit me. My head ached so much it made me cry. I was up all night and feel very weak today. I took it easy most of the day. I spent the afternoon typing a long letter regarding my grandmother’s estate that I had promised to type for my mother.

I did two other things today—I bought Adele three pairs of light-weight overalls—chocolate brown, light green & powder blue. I bought a blouse from Fay (one that her mom brought from the factory—with a tiny damage) for $2.75. It’s a pale pink sharkskin rayon with tucks all the way across the shoulders, back and front.

The thermometer reached 86° yesterday, so you can well imagine how hot it was. It was unusually warm today, but not quite as warm as yesterday. I’ve discarded Adele’s snowsuit, for it is too warm for the weather we are having.

Goldie’s folks will be leaving soon—so we’re having an early dinner. They gave Adele a floating soap dish. I’m going to have my first taste of champagne tonight—here’s a toast to you, my dearly beloved.

Your Eve

18 March 1945

10:20 A.M.

Darling Evie,

You’ll note by the date-line that I am writing this the “morning after the night before.” That’s because I didn’t get the opportunity to write last night (as I shall explain a little further along)—but rather than “cheat” you out of the letter for 17 March, I decided to cover my activities of that date this morning. Thus, what I do today will be duly recorded in a letter which I shall write tomorrow, etc.—

Yesterday, the 17th dawned gray and cool with threatening rain-clouds in the sky. I spent the morning and the greater part of the afternoon getting bathed, shaved, hair-cut, and my clothes from the station tailor. By 3 P.M. I was ready to start dressing. This was my first opportunity to wear my civvy shoes since they arrived, and before I tried them, I was almost certain that they would be sizes small. After wearing the roomy, broad-toed G.I. brogans steadily for two years and more it was small wonder that I took it for granted that my feet had spread to some extent. Imagine, then, my surprise and gratification when I put them on and found them a perfect fit, and as comfortable as I ever remember them! The heels are a bit run-down, but the soles and uppers are good, so I’ll make my first stop this morning the shoemaker’s and have a new set of heels put on.

I left camp at 4:30 P.M. on the “train-run” truck and was in town by 5:05 P.M. On arriving, I went directly to Bert’s shop, to find both him and Ev and two girls waiting on some 10 or 12 G.I.’s and Tommies, who just about filled the tiny place. Their greeting was “well, look who’s here!”—and no wonder! I was pleased that they even recognized me after my absence of some three months!

Evelyn had left Nigel in the keeping of a neighborhood girl, who had to leave at 6 o’clock, so we hopped into a taxi about a quarter ’til and went to the house. Nigel, who is still about the best-looking boy of his age (9 months now) I have seen, had grown noticeably since the last time I saw him, and it was mighty sweet holding him while Evelyn washed and changed. While she fed him, I told her all about the swell time I had on furlough. Bert, who is ailing with a painful boil where he sits, came in about 8 o’clock, and we had tea shortly afterward. Mr. Cohen, Evelyn’s father, called from the R.R. station at 9:30, and Bert went off in his recently acquired car to pick him up. They were back in about a half-hour, Bert lugging the high-chair that he (Mr. Cohen) had brought from London, and Mr Cohen carrying a small, portable RCA-Victor set that he had just bought for £20 ($70.00) second hand! He was offered £30 ($120.00) for it about an hour later—and refused it! Can you believe it, Chippie? You know the type of set I mean—your mother was contemplating buying you one ’way back in 1940. I was further amazed when Bert appeared delighted with his father-in-law’s luck in picking up such a “bargain”! When I expressed my amazement, he told me in all seriousness that he’d gladly pay £30 a piece for a hundred of them, and guarantee to dispose of them within a week at prices ranging anywhere from £35 (140.00) to £40 (160.00)! Mr. Cohen told of an interesting experience to illustrate the point that many British people have more money than they literally know what to do with, because of the dearth of things to buy: He was dining in a London Restaurant recently, when a friend, whom he hadn’t seen in four years, and whom he hardly recognized, approached him to remind him that he owed Mr. Cohen £25. Telling him (Mr. Cohen) to wait a minute, he walked over to the check-room, and returned carrying a large valise. This, he nonchalantly placed on the table between them, and calmly proceeded to open. Mr. Cohen said he almost passed out when he saw the contents, for the suit-case was literally jammed full with £1 and £5 notes! (Boy, what a spot for a red-hot crap game!)—And I can’t even get hold of a measly wallet-full of the stuff!

For supper, to top off an evening of surprises, and which we sat down to at 10:30 P.M., Evelyn broke out four (4) of the biggest, juiciest steaks complete with fried onions, baked-beans, and mustard pickles, that it has ever been my pleasure to sink a fang into—(oops! sorry if I turned your stomach with that last, Sweet).

The taxi, which I had booked earlier in the evening to take me to the Red Cross Club, honked for me at exactly 12:00 M.

This morning, I slept ’til 8:30, when, feeling well-rested, I rose, dressed, went out, and got the morning papers, which I read over breakfast here at the Club. After that, I procured this stationery in the office, and settled down in the lounge to write.

I find this place very comfortable and attractive, so perhaps a few lines of description might be well-received by you, honey—

The phono-radio is currently giving out with “Straighten up and Fly Right” for the edification of an even dozen of G.I.’s who are lolling about in the circle of easy chairs arranged before the instrument.

Against the opposite wall, two more G.I.’s are engaged in a red-hot game of ping-pong, while another dozen or so G.I.’s look on. Between the two, in the center of the large, square room, which is attractively painted in light green and ivory, with a green-and-ivory patterned linoleum floor covering, there are more easy chairs (all occupied) and a long table, which is strewn with American magazines like Life, Time, Newsweek, Sat. Eve. Post, etc. and out-dated newspapers from all parts of the U.S.A.

The dining-room, which opens off one of the corners of the lounge is somewhat smaller, but ample to attend the needs of the soldiers who frequent the Club.

Which all brings me completely up to date (except that it’s “Rum-Boogie” on the radio now). I might also mention, baby, that it’s a lovely, sunny, Sunday afternoon, which just matches my mood which, in turn, was made happy by the wonderful news I just finished reading in the papers. To all appearances, according to the military analysts, the last big battle to occupy Germany and end the war, is now shaping. Here’s hoping, my darling!

I’m about ready for lunch, which is now being served, so I’ll take my leave, for the time being, with a loving kiss for you, my lovely, one for my adorable adolescent, Adele (good—huh?), and love to all. Mind if I kiss you again, baby? I love you so much! Just remember, Sweet,—wherever you are, you are the constant companion of

Your adoring Phil                                                      

Post #607 - March 17, 1945 Goldie’s Folks Just “Popped” In to Surprise Her for Her Birthday Which is Tomorrow

 

March 17, 1945

Dearest Phil,

No mail from you today, but there were two letters from Seymour & Milt. Milt’s letter was his usual. Seymour’s letter was a surprise—he remembered our 4th Anniversary & my birthday and enclosed a money-order for $10.00, all of which I thought was pretty nice—don’t you.

I was just interrupted—another big surprise—Goldie’s folks just “popped” in to surprise her for her birthday which is tomorrow. I got her a slip as a gift which I will give her tomorrow.

I have a very dull headache & feel rotten. My period delayed again & I feel lousy because of it. The Silvers brought Go a walker for the baby & a bottle of champagne to celebrate. If you think I feel like celebrating, mister, you’ve got another think. Phil, I miss you so much & I love you dearly.

Your Eve

Post #606 - March 16, 1945 I’ve Lost All Taste and Patience for Writing and Ask Yourself If You Cannot Find It There to Grant Me the Same Faith I Have in You

 

March 16, 1945

Dearest Sweetheart,

I knocked off a quick v-mail yesterday as I had very little time for writing. Neglected to mention in the v-mail, except for a “P.S.” that I received your v-mail of 7/March, which told me that you had read the article about Dr. Lempert. I haven’t heard from Jackie for some time—maybe it’s because I owe him a letter. I think I told you that he plans to marry sometime in April or May. Guess he’ll let me know when, exactly, and no doubt he’s too busy with Marge to do much writing these days.

My correspondence is at a standstill—I’ve lost all taste and patience for writing—in fact I have not written a single letter to anyone else but you so far this month. I’ve been too tired and busy. I hope to break the spell by getting a few letters off this weekend.

The weatherman surprised us greatly by predicting “summer weather” and darn if he wasn’t right. It was actually uncomfortably warm today. Most everyone has that “washed-out” feeling.

The other day Adele said to me, “Mommy, Nanna used to live next door, but Missy Otok lives dere now.” I was really astounded, for I had never thought she could remember that far back—it’s almost a year since Betty moved.

Dot tells me that she receives more cheerful letters from Snuff since he was transferred to New Mexico. He expects to have a furlough in June. I’ve apologized for your not writing & she understands, just as long as you remember her in my letters. That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t like to hear from you direct.

Ed took the typewriter over to 4920 to type his mail & Ruth uses it for her homework. Since they are using it this evening—you’ll have to put up with this. I love you so very much, Phil.—

Your Eve

16 March 1945

Dearest Chippie,

Your ill-advised V-mail of 9 Mar. came this afternoon. I say ill-advised because I mean just that—what’s more, I’m perfectly ready to prove how wrong you were in launching your tirade of condemnation against me. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t feel compelled to justify myself, but the fact is—I can’t abide the knowledge that you think ill of me on any account, and if by explaining why I am not at fault I can correct your impression of me, then I certainly mean to do so. I won’t go into what your letter made me feel—it would only be a weak effort in comparison to your letter, and would not reflect my true feelings simply because I wouldn’t hurt you knowingly under any conditions—whether you mean the accusations or not. Let me then, state the facts as simply as I know how. I think it was some time in January that I promised that I would write daily “if it were humanly possible.” I appended no restrictions or conditions to that promise, Chippie, and (I trust this will not surprise you completely) I consider that I have, to date, lived up to the letter of that promise! Here of late, I have been priding myself on that fact. Knowing, then, how I felt at the time of receipt of your V-mail, can you imagine, Chippie, how much it hurt? Now let me say this: The only days in February that I failed to write were the 19th and 20th. The reasons for those failures I have already explained, namely that on the 19th I spent all my free time preparing for the trip on the morrow. On the 20th, I was traveling from 1:35 P.M. (when I took the bus at the base, ‘til midnight, (when I arrived at Doncaster). Needless to say, I was plenty busy with last minute chores up ’til 1:35 P.M. on the morning of the 20th. Then, (and this is where you made your greatest miscalculation, honey) I wrote daily to compile those 22 pages, which represent anywhere from two to three hours work each day from the 22nd Feb. to the 27th, inclusive, and which you chose to regard so lightly. You will understand, of course, that it was hardly possible for me to write on the 21st, since I continued my journey that morning and reached Meadowcroft about 4 P.M. The remainder of the evening, as you know, was necessarily reserved to getting acquainted with my hosts and the other guests. By the same token, I couldn’t write again on the 28th, when I traveled back to camp. You will understand, too, (when I’ve told you) that it was impossible for me to mail a daily installment while on furlough because censorship regulations forbid the posting of mail by a soldier at any place but an Army Post Office. I was compelled, therefore, to hold on to my letter (or letters) until I got back to my station. I think you knew about this, Chippie; at least you should have known from past experience, but since you so evidently ignored this fact, I will give you the benefit of the doubt (which, incidentally, you didn’t favor me with), and consider that you forgot it. As far as I can gather from your letter, you had received my letters up to and including 14 Feb.

I believe I have accounted satisfactorily for 19 Feb. thru 28 Feb., which leaves 15, 16, 17, 18 Feb. unaccounted for. Now I don’t pretend to know what happened to those letters. I’m hoping they were merely delayed and not lost, but I do know that I wrote on those dates. Further, I have written faithfully each and every day in March, and fully intend to continue doing so—altho’ I will admit that my first reaction after reading your rather harsh letter was to do anything but that! I even considered, in the first heat of my anger and righteous indignation, making you wait your turn while I devoted some of my evenings to answering my other correspondents, but this, of course, was only an impulse of the moment, born of the instinct to strike back at you for so misjudging me. When I had cooled off a bit, and realized that there was some justification for your own misconceptions, and that it was only because my letters mean so much to you that you could feel so badly about the lack of them, I was ashamed of myself for harboring, even for a moment, a desire for retribution. For that I ask your forgiveness, Sweet. Before I close the subject, though, I want to once more remind you that there is no substitute for faith, and ask you, when you again feel yourself aggrieved or in any way unfairly treated by yours ever lovingly, to at least give him the benefit of the doubt until he has had the opportunity to defend his action or lack of action, and refrain from calling him to task until such time as you are very sure you know all the facts. The mere fact that you failed to receive my letters for a period of eight days or eighty days, as badly as it might make you feel, does not, to my way of thinking, justify all the hard and unkind things you were moved to say before knowing my side of it. Just as you are “tired” of what you are pleased to call my “apologies and excuses,” so am I inclined to deplore the repeated necessity of pleading that you show at least a modicum of faith in my good intentions, and my desire to please you in any way I can, and to the utmost of my ability. I must admit that I feel myself a failure, and am bitterly humiliated by the knowledge that I have, after all this time, failed to inspire that faith in me in you, my darling. Please, for both our sakes, search your heart and mind, and ask yourself if you cannot find it there to grant me the same faith I have in you. God knows, I have done whatever I could to deserve it. However, it is most essential to our future peace of mind that you know it, too—. If you love me as you say you do, dearest, please dignify that love with faith. For my part, I can’t conceive how one might love without it. Also, for my part—while I can remember taking issue with the wisdom of some course or action you followed or contemplated, I don’t think you can point out a single instance where I ever doubted your good intentions, or was so impulsive that I criticized you before giving you some chance for explanation. In all fairness, then, Chippie, won’t you favor me with the same treatment?

Before I close this letter, which I so much wish you hadn’t forced me to write, I want to tell you, Sweet, that I will be taking my 48-hour pass tomorrow. My intention is to spend it with Bert and Evelyn. I’ll also drop in on Marks and spend a few hours there. I’ll also pick up your mysterious “gew-gaw” (ain’t I stubborn?) that Bert has wrapped for mailing, and which I have been unable to take from him these many weeks. I’ll remind you, honey, that I’ve left the engraving of it up to you and the Phila. jewelers, but I insist that you send me the bill, or tell me the cost, so that I may reimburse you and consequently be able to feel that it is entirely my anniversary gift to you. I trust the finished article will be be worthy as such, Sweet.

Good night for now, my darling, and you may rest assured that I will make every effort to write tomorrow, and the next day, and the next—

You are a short-tempered, impulsive, Chippie, my Evie, but perhaps I wouldn’t love you quite as much as I do—if you weren’t.—Which reminds me of a particular night when you were so annoyed with me, that you turned your back to me in bed, and refused to concede me even the graciousness of a civil “good-night.” I won’t go into the details of my own emotions at the time (although I will admit to a feeling of utter emptiness and despair), nor will I recount the little tendernesses that brought you back to my arms and heart that night—I merely want to say that your tears of forgiveness and avowals of love on that occasion made it the sweetest, most idyllic experience of my life—before or since. I’ve thought about it a thousand times since, and I fully expect the poignant sweetness of that moment to live in my memory forever—Darling, the only regrets of my life are that we have been deprived of a thousand days and nights together, and that we have all our previous joys behind us! I live only for those still to come.

My dearest love to your daughter and mine, may God bless her! Love to all my loved ones. I am ever

Your adoring husband,

Phil

Post #605 - March 15, 1945 Gee I Hate to Go Somewhere Alone! and Today Really Took the Cake! and A Letter from Milt Brown

 

March 15, 1945

Dearest Darling,

Am knocking this off, just so you’ll have a letter dated the 15th. Immediately after work, I ate at H & H alone (gee I hate to go somewhere alone!) & met Eddie at Uncle Nish’s. Unc promised to get Ed a wrist watch through a jeweler he knows & we went out to see what he had. He had nothing to show us but promised to get us a good buy (if such can be had). I asked him what he’d give me for the gold watch I have & though he admitted it was solid gold, $15 was all he offered to pay for it. I think it’s worth much more & if I can get a good price for it I may trade it in & get some sort of watch that works. I’m lost without a watch these days. We got home by nine & I put Adele to bed. It was a very muggy day & I feel very tired—but I love you so much.

Your Eve

P.S. Received your v-mail of 7 Mar.

15 March 1945

My Darling,

I’ve been writing for a long time now about how busy I am—how “full” my days are, etc., etc., but today really took the cake! For the first time (and I hope the last) the press of business prevented me from eating dinner. No kiddin’, Sweet,—there was a report to be got out by 1 o’clock, and I had to work along with Lt. Toms right through my lunch hour to get it done. By the time we finished, it was too late to eat! That’s the Army for you! [Hand me my civvies, baby!]

Last night, after I wrote to you, I went to the dance at the Aero Club. The Club has been redecorated, and is really a nice place to relax of an evening. The large Snack Bar dining room is cleared for dancing on Wednesdays and every other Sunday. The floor is linoleum, and seems to serve nicely. (I have yet to try it, though, so I couldn’t say for sure). Anyway, about a hundred G.I.’s, and about the same number of girls usually attend. The lights are dimmed, the G.I. bands that play here are usually well worth hearing and a good time is had by all—even your ever-lovin’ hubby, who sits by and watches like the veriest wall-flower. However, I had rather watch Klein dance, anyway, so I don’t feel that I’m missing anything.

If I don’t miss my guess, honey, this should reach you just a day or two before your birthday. Therefore, permit me to take this medium to wish you many happy returns of the day, my darling, and to make a further wish that next year we shall celebrate our birthdays together—Your birthday gift was ordered about a month ago for delivery on 28 March. I hope it reaches you then, and that you will understand that it is not quite what I would want to give you in honor of the occasion, but that circumstances, unfortunately, prevent a greater evidencing of love and devotion on my part. I can duly reassert what I have told you so many times before—I adore you, my Evie—Love to all from

Your Phil

March 15, 1945

Dear Phil:

No letter from you, but I have some extra time, so I thought I’d drop you a few lines. Had a letter from Evelyn a few days ago, & everyone is fine at home. I answered her letter yesterday. The war news in Europe sure does sound good, and it looks like an all out drive to smash the Germans. If things keep up the way they are going now, it may not be too long before we see Germany fall. I’ll bet you boys are sweating it out, & hoping you don’t have to come to the Pacific after the European situation is over with. There’s no more kidding yourself though for they will send a lot of men & equipment over here so that they can clean up Japan in a hurry, & brother they surely have it coming to them. We probably have enough here now to take care of Japan, but it would take longer that way. I sure hope you’re not on the list for the Pacific, but I won’t count on it too much if I were you. Well, at the present time I’m getting plenty of rest as I’m in the Hospital. It’s nothing serious though, & I expect to join the outfit in a few more days. I have a sore on my left toe, & they put me in here to keep me off my feet, as it will heal up quicker that way. I need a little rest, & this sure is the place to get it. I’ll be glad to get out though, as I can’t stand too much of the laying around & doing nothing. They put hot towels & water bags to my toe three times a day, & it’s healing up fine now. The Company I’m in is only about a ten minute ride from the Hospital. We get our mail every day, as our mail orderly brings it to us from the Company. The food is fairly good, but you just can’t get enough of it. I stay hungry practically all the time. Asking for a second piece of bread is like asking for their right arm & I am not joking either. They have a movie here at night, but so far I have only seen one show since I have been here. The only reason why I haven’t seen any more is that it rained the other nights. I came into the Hospital the ninth of this month. They have a new U.S.O. show on the Island now, and we were supposed to see it last night here, but it rained & boy were we all sore. They say it’s pretty good & ran quite a long time in the States. You probably remember it, “Hell’s A Poppin’.” Well, Phil, that’s about all for now. Drop me a line when you have a few moments to spare, & I’ll do the same.

As Ever,

Milt

Post #604 - March 14, 1945 We're Going to Buy Our Own Place After the War and Fix It Up Right - By Ourselves and Do You Kiss Adele, Spank Her, or Just Stand Shocked and Stupefied at Her Precociousness?

 

March 14, 1945

My dearest Phil,

Today was one of those rare spring days when the weather is just "too too" and you get too much spring fever to really accomplish. Regardless, I got off a good day's work, but that doesn't stop this continual desire to want you, to see you and to be with you - actually.

I was so tired last night I couldn't wait till I got to bed. Adele woke once during the night, but for the most part I caught a fair night of rest. Adele and I went walking at about 9 A.M. I let her push her doll carriage along the sidewalk and we walked back and forth for about 20 minutes. I got to work early and had a busy day. I've informed her of Betty Jane, the doll that supposed to come and play with her, from daddy. I even showed Adele which side of the bed you'll sleep on and when she lays in bed with me, she says, "Mommy will sleep here and daddy will sleep here" (pointing to the places).

The girl who came into clean finished working today. The place looks swell, but she couldn't do either my room or Mom's. Mom told her to come next Thursday and she says it will only cost $4 and carfare. It seems that the difference the girl made has to be paid to the agency. $6 a day is certainly a good salary for her.

Today I heard Harry say to Goldie, "What do you do around here all day long?" It struck me funny that even he should ask her such a question. Goldie thinks she's the busiest girl in creation. In fact I've never seen any one be so busy with nothing. Remember, I, too raised a baby and still am, besides holding down an almost full-time job and a house. Phil, I don't mind having a girl come into the house, since we're all chipping in, but every little bit cuts very deep into savings and savings mean more to me at this time then anything else. I've given up everything, being wife, mother, housekeeper and everything I hold dear and so something has to compensate for it meantime and it's savings. I fully intend to give up 4906, as we discussed, but I am not going to say anything till after Passover, at which time I am definitely going to make a move. I've thought and thought and thought about it, sweet, and you can rest assured I'll do nothing to cause hard feelings. I'm sure each one will understand when I explain. Please do not write to Mom or anyone concerning this until I've told you in detail what happened, and how they reacted. Please do not feel badly about anything I may say, for it is for all our respective good if I do it. We're going to buy our own place after the war and fix it up right - by ourselves. In fact, we'll almost have to get married again, if’n you know what I mean and I'm sure you know what I mean. I'm in a "thinking" mood - or hadn't you noticed? In case you haven't received any mail for the past few days it's because I wrote air-mail two days in a row. I thought I'd try v-mail this evening to keep the mail steady. I think my typed v-mails would make a good sized airmail letter, don’t you? Good night, dearest Phil, I love you and want you constantly and I'll never cease being unhappy until you return to

Your Eve



14 March 1945

Dearest Wifie,

Am writing this just after work (another very full day), and before getting cleaned up and dressed to go to the dance at the Aero Club. It has been a long time since I’ve been to one of the weekly shindigs at the Club, and because I’ve seen the picture at the theater (Hairy Ape), and feeling the need for a bit of divertissement, I decided I’d go down to look on at Klein—his dancing and generally atrocious yet amusing antics. The sun continued to shine today, but there is still a chill in the ever-present breeze.

Today’s mail call brought me three very nice, fairly recent V-mails (6, 7, 8 March), which is better service than I’ve enjoyed in many months. I’ll answer as much as I have time and space for tonight, Sweet, and continue tomorrow.

No, Chippie, I guess you know by now that I didn’t feel exactly as you did on 6 March. Does the thought that I’m 30 depress you so, that you get the blues contemplating it? At least that’s what I gathered from the beginning of your letter: “Happy Birthday! I wonder if you felt as I did all day long? I had an awful case of the blues, and still have it.”!!??

The few paragraphs about Adele’s latest batch of “bright sayings” made mighty gratifying and amusing reading. She must be smart as a whip! What do you do, Ev, when she gives out with something real fresh like “I smarter than you are, Mommy”? Do you kiss her, spank her, or just stand shocked and stupefied at her precociousness? My curiosity is very much piqued on this point, and I’d really like to know.

Thanks for the 31 kisses, my darlings. (I hope the extra one is meant for good luck??) I love you both so very much—I pray to be with you before my next birthday. Good bless you both. Love to all from

Your Phil

Post #603 - March 13, 1945 Imagine Paying $6 a Day to a Girl When I Don't Even Make That Myself! and Time Ceased to Exist for Me the Moment I Left You and A Letter from Milt Brown

 

March 13, 1945

Dearest Phil,

The boss just scooted out to a quick lunch and just as soon as he "scooted" I made straight for some stationery to get this started. He grabs a bite and comes right back, so I won't have much time to really write. I hope to be able to get some real writing done this evening.

The letters I received yesterday were yours of March 2 (air mail) and March 4, 5, 6 (v-mail), There was a letter from Snuff and your Jan. bond. I'll answer your letters this evening,

Adele went to sleep soon after I got home (she had not napped in the afternoon) and Ruth and I went out to Frankford Avenue to shop. It rained lightly all evening, but we made good connections and didn't mind. We visited several stores and could find nothing. The last shop - a Ritzi shop, incidentally, (remember how I used to buy at Ritzi?) proved to be the spot we desired. I headed straight for a rack marked “drastically reduced”) and Ruth got two stunning dresses and I got myself a plaid jumper - all three items costing us $23.00. My jumper sold for $7 originally and it cost me only $2.99, so you can readily see why I bought it.

My jumper is a red and navy blue checked material with two lines of white between the squares. It's a rayon and wool mixture, has a very full gathered skirt with large pockets on either side and two large straps (about 4" wide) crisscross to compose the top. The straps meet in the front. The back of the skirt has red buttons all the way down. It’s cute and well worth the money. I'm wearing it today. It's a real pleasure to have something nice to wear to work. I've been wearing the same old two skirts week in and week out. and this new jumper lifts my spirits, even though it is so inexpensive.

Ruth’s dresses are lovely. One is a black silk with a low cut round neck, puffed sleeves, gathered skirt with slash pockets and the neckline, sleeves and pockets are trimmed with black glittering sequins and black net ruffles. I tried it on first, but I look positively horrid in black. Aqua and red are my colors, but definitely, Ruth didn't want this dress at first, because the tag said it was a size nine. After I had tried it on I was convinced that it was larger and made her try it. She looks very well in black and the dress fitted her nicely. It was a $15 dress, marked down to $9.

Just before the store closed my eye caught another number - an aqua gabardine that was positively stunning. It is made on the order of my beige sailor (what use to was) and the collar is edged with aqua fringe and has large gold hobnails all about the edge in a fancy design. It buttons down the front with large buttons that have an edge of gold, the material composes the next part and there is a large gold nail head in the center. On the sides are large pockets, trimmed the same way, with fringe and nail heads, This dress was $20 and was cut to $11. I practically had to hit Ruth on the head to get her to buy it and when she got it home, she liked it better than the black. I'd like to have it myself but it looks better on her and does more for her than it does for me. I can wear it too, but I would have to wear it with a fine gold belt. I have such a small waist that it is slightly large about the waist. All in all we got excellent buys and came home very tired, but more than satisfied.

It was way after 12 when I got to bed and Adele woke me twice. In fact, she woke me that many times the past few nights and I feel a bit haggard due to lack of sleep. Adele is getting her two year molars and is teething something awful. She doesn't eat a thing, but I don't bother to give her anything unless she asks, and she usually asks for something.

When she awoke this morning she [sic] her skin was a bit rashy, as it usually gets when she is teething. (just about the cheeks). I said that her skin looked funny and she was very hurt. In fact when we were all downstairs and eating breakfast (Harry, Goldie, Mom). I mentioned that Adele's skin looked rashy. Adele piped in with, "Mommy my skin isn't rawshy, it's chapped!" I couldn't help laughing at the remark. What a kid!

I forgot to tell you that we are all chipping in $6 a piece for a colored girl, who is working for us for three days to clean up the place, which isn't livable any longer. Well, the first day made such a difference, I almost felt at home again. Imagine paying $6 a day to a girl when I don't even make that myself! Well, it just had to be done and that's that, (That, incidentally, is why we were all eating breakfast so early, so that we could be finished before the girl came). She's a good worker and the place really should look nice when she's finished.

Today, on my way to work, I missed the el at 8th & Market and decided to roam about Gimbels basement while waiting for the next train. In those few minutes. I managed to buy myself two pairs of "third grade stockings which are perfect as far as I am concerned, for 44¢ a pair. I paid $1 a pair recently for the same junk and they ripped quickly. I'm treating myself good this month, as you may have noted. I don't have a decent bra, slip or blouse left and those three items are next on my shopping list.

I didn't mention that it is closing time and I am working on this again.

Today your V-mail of March 5th arrived and informed me that you had received two packages, one containing your shoes, the other the film, gum, etc. I'm glad you told me not to get any more cigarettes, cause I had intended buying a carton, if I could get it. I'm back home, as you must have guessed by the change of type. There isn't much in your letters that inspires comment on my part, except this: It is funny that my letter to the War Bond Office should be endorsed by you. It's nice to know that everything I do leads to you. Your birthday v-mail was very sweet and thanks for being so thoughtful as to my birthday and the doll for Adele. I'm sure Adele will take to the doll just as she will take to you - she'll take it right into her heart. I'm sorry you're so disappointed at my not taking a picture for you. I didn't have the opportunity to fix up when I decided to take Adele to Lorstan and since I didn't look too well either I decided against it. I rushed to get Adele down there and had no time for myself. As I told you, I'm having the photographer come to the house to make a picture of Adele, Mom and myself and that will probably be done about my birthday. As I've told you Adele hasn't been resting and I'm feeling sort of tired these days. I want to look well if I take a picture. You know, sweet, I still have another coupon from Brunel studios and I think I may have a picture of Adele and myself made, if you'd like that. I don't have any exceptionally good pictures with Adele. First I'll finish with Lorstan and then we'll start with Brunel, okay? Speaking of pictures - I'd like to get a gander at some of your likeness. It's been a long time since I had some pictures from you. By the way, Adele can count up to 12 by herself. I wish you could hear some of the things that come out of her. We love you, darling.

Your Eve

P.S. Didn’t get the opportunity to say as much as I wished, but want to get this off, so am posting it anyway. More, tomorrow. I love you sweet!



13 March 1945

Ev, Dearest

Seems like the only thing I have to write about anymore is the movies. Last night, as I told you in yesterday's communique, I saw (and heard) "Rhapsody in Blue.” Well, Sweet, I'd need a lot of time and space to tell you how thrilling a film this one is. Sufficient to say that I haven't enjoyed a picture more in years. The music and life of George Gershwin are superbly played and portrayed, and the cast seemed to put everything they had into it. Robert Alda is George Gershwin–I don’t believe I’ve seen a more convincing characterization. Joan Leslie is still one of the cutest and most talented gals in pictures, and Al Jolson, Charles Coburn, Albert Basserman, Alexis Smith, Hazel Brooks, Paul Whiteman, Oscar Levant and others in the supporting cast weren't hard to take either. By all means, Chippie—see this one! Just got back from seeing a picture that you might like—as it stands. I thought that it had tremendous opportunities for humor and tender pathos if they had been developed. The picture is "The Impatient Years” with Jean Arthur, Lee Bowman, and Charles Coburn. I recommend it to wives of absent soldier-husbands, but not to the soldiers (it’s a silly business as far as they are concerned—who ever heard of a soldier that would choose to sleep on the floor, even if his wife were practically a stranger to him? See what I mean?) So much for the movies—

I had half-hoped that the proofs of the punkin would be along today but I wasn’t entirely disappointed, ’cause your V-mail of 5 March was in the mail. It was written in long-hand (Eddie had taken the typewriter) so it was rather short. Was glad to learn that Jack Gutkin did get home after all. Too bad he has to come back, though—Glad to hear that you and Mom got out to the movies together, too. It warms me just to contemplate it—it really does!

In closing, you remind me that 5 Mar made 19 months since we saw each other—as if I need to be reminded! But be very sure, sweetheart, that if it takes another 19 months or 19 years, I'll return to you with all the love I ever bore you. Time ceased to exist for me the moment I left you, and the day I return will be just as 6 Aug/43—you’ll see! Just have faith in the love of


Your Phil



March 13, 1945

Dear Evelyn:

No mail from you since I wrote you last, but I have plenty of time now, so I’m dropping you a few lines. At the present time, I’m in the Hospital, & came in the ninth of this month. It’s nothing serious, though, and only have a small sore on my toe, and they put me in here, to keep me off my feet, as it needs rest to heal up quickly. I guess I’ll be in here for a week or so. I need a little rest anyway, & this sure is the place to get it, & suits me fine. To tell you the truth, though, I’ll be glad to get out, as I can’t stand too much of this laying around doing nothing. They put hot towels, & water bags to my toe three times a day, & it’s clearing up nicely now. The food here is fairly good, but we don’t get enough of it, & I stay hungry most of the time. Asking for a second piece of bread is like asking for their right arm, & I’m not joking either. The Hospital is only about a ten minute ride from where the Company is at. There are a few other boys in here from the Company, & I see them every day. We get our mail here daily, as our mail orderly brings it to us from the Company. They have a movie here also, & I have seen one fairly good show since I have been here. The only reason that I haven’t seen more is that it was raining the other evenings. It’s raining now, & it looks like no show tonight either. From the looks of the sky, I don’t think it will clear up for tonight. This sure is the life here, beds, mattresses, sheets, pillows, & boy that bed sure does feel good. I sleep like a little baby at night. We even have pajamas to wear, how about that. What’s new going on around town, & how’s Harry making out these days. I still haven’t heard from Phil, & I’m going to write him another letter tomorrow. Well, Evelyn, I’ll close for now, as I’m out of news. Give my regards to all. Write you again soon.

As Ever,
Milt