Post #620 - April 1, 1945 I’m Expecting Dot Any Minute

Apr. 1, 1945

Dearest Phil,

Today was a typical spring day and I stayed out all morning and most of the afternoon. I arose early, after a fair night of rest, cleaned my room, made breakfast for Adele and myself and headed for Fay’s house. I particularly like her place because of enclosed porch (thanks to her late husband). I can sit and watch Adele, which is something I can't do anywhere else. I parked myself in a comfortable metal chair, which rocks slightly and took a sun bath while Adele busied herself with the rocking horse and other toys on the porch. Fay and Ruth came out from time to time to talk with me and I watched their kids too. I stayed there until 11:30. Before reaching home for lunch we stopped at Betty’s house for a few minutes. I gave Adele her lunch at my mother's house and brought her over here for her nap. While she was upstairs (she wouldn’t sleep, she only rested) I took off the parlor set covers, cleaned the set with the hand sweeper and put camphor in it. I swept the rugs and the front of the house and had my lunch. By this time Adele was getting restless and I dressed her in her little red and green plaid skirt, gave her some milk and took her out again. Adele awoke with a slight cold this morning and had a little trouble getting one eye open. As the day wore on, she seemed better, so I kept her out all day. I hope all traces of it will be gone tomorrow, so that I’ll be able to take her down for her scarlet fever injection. I gave her a warm bath this evening and put Vicks in her nose before she went to sleep.

While I was out with Adele in the afternoon, Petey made three snaps: two of Adele alone and one of her and myself. I wasn’t dressed (am wearing a jumper and socks) but I don't think you’ll be able to tell. I was made up and my hair was combed nicely, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Adele didn’t look too well today and I’m hoping that won’t show up. Well, at least you’ll have some snaps to look forward to in the near future.

I’m expecting Dot any minute, for she promised she’d try to come up to visit me this evening and she’s keeping her promise. She wants to read your 22 page letter, so I’ll probably knit while she does, if I don’t help her reread it. No matter how many times I reread that letter, I still enjoy it.

I started a letter to Gloria yesterday and I’m going to finish it now. I didn’t write to her all month, which is unusual for me. I was just thinking what a nice pleasant evening this would be if you and Snuff were to be present too. Darling, I’m wishing and hoping and praying so hard that it will happen that I can’t wish any harder. Darling, I love you so much! Good night, baby mine, it’s a joy to be

Your Eve

Post #619 - March 31, 1945 Just Got Back from Marie's Wedding and I Feel It Is Only a Matter of Days Now ’til V-Day and A Letter from Dot Cohen

 

March 31, 1945

Dearest Phil,

It is 12:30 and I am still at work. Since I have completed all my work I am taking advantage of the spare time to get my daily letter off to you. I was mildly surprised when Lil called me last night. Her first sentence was, "I was just sitting here thinking what a stinker I am” - I heartily agreed, though I didn't say as much. She called to wish me happy birthday, anniversary, etc. I had very little to say. She said she would surprise me and pay me a visit. I told her not to come on Monday, cause I take Adele to Dr. Gayl's then. That was all.

There was no mail yesterday, but I did receive a very cute birthday card from Dot. I had an very uneventful evening last night - bathed Adele, washed, showered myself, washed and set my hair, etc. By the time I got to bed it was 11 and I had a fair night of rest.

After work I am going straight home, have lunch, and then I'm going to Marie's wedding, which takes place at 3 o'clock at the church at 5th & Lindley Ave. I'll continue on this later in the day. So long for now.

Just got back from Marie's wedding (just like that) and she looked lovely. I'm afraid I don't like their style when it comes to weddings, but one thing I do like - it's quick. I'm invited to the reception this evening to be held at the American Legion Hall, but I feel too tired to dress up again and attend.

I had two big surprises when I got home from work - two belated birthday cards - one from none other than Myra and the other from Lil, asking me in an accompanying note to "forgive her cause she's nuts". I shall call each and thank them and let it go at that.

We had a terrific wind and rain storm a few minutes ago and I thought would knock the house down. It's been very windy all day and had to culminate in some sort of climax.

I have a lot of little things I'm going to do tonight, so that I'll have more free time tomorrow, such as ironing, sewing, washing, etc. Dot called and told me she had intended to surprise me (more surprises) by coming up this evening, but that her mother went away unexpectedly. She may come up tomorrow, for she is anxious to read your 22 page letter. In fact she wants to type it up and send a duplicate to Snuff. How about that! She's certainly ambitious.

Since I find myself with nothing else to say, you won't mind if I go "sweet" on you and tell you that I adore you, Phil - so much!

Your Eve

31 March 1945

Darling Evie,

Your V-mail of 14 Mar. arrived this afternoon, but there wasn’t anything in it that calls for a reply, or comment. Nor did I do anything out of the ordinary today that I might tell you about. I’m still largely occupied with those personnel records I mentioned in yesterday’s letter. Everything considered, Chippie, I’m almost at my wits’ end for the means to fill this sheet. Still, you will have your daily letter, so you’ll have to bear with me if this gets boring—

This evening, I took in the first show at the station theater. The film was “Fighting Lady,” the saga of one of our aircraft carriers in the Pacific. It was really worth seeing. The photography was both beautiful and daring—the action unsurpassed. Lt. Robt. Taylor, the narrator, gives a very comprehensive picture of the life and activity aboard a “flat top.” The technicolor pictures of exploding and burning jap ships and planes are colorful and thrilling. The daily day-to-day chores of the sailors is a revelation. Most people don’t stop to think that such a ship is a community in itself, complete with cleaning, tailoring, barbering, printing and cooking and baking facilities—to say nothing of soda fountains, movies, etc. Altogether a very absorbing picture, and one I enjoyed very much.

What shall I tell you now, darling—that it has been a nice day? It has.—That I’m pretty tired now? I am.—That I feel it is only a matter of days now ’til V-day? I do.—That I’m wondering where we go from here? I am.—That I pray I will see you and the punkin and all my dear ones before many months have passed? I do.—That I adore you, and miss you more and more as time goes by? I do. Anything I might say after that would be in the nature of an anti-climax, so I’ll sign off now with a loving kiss for you, one for my adorable Adele, and one for Mom. My love to all.

Ever,

Your Phil

Sat. 3/31 (1945)

Dear Phil:

I've almost given up hope of ever hearing from you again, but I'll hang on a little longer. I'm a glutton for punishment. All kidding aside, I’m not really angry - just a little disappointed. I flattered myself by thinking that you wouldn't forget me, even if some of the other fellows did. I know there must be a good reason why you haven't written, and I'm all ready to forgive you. Isn't that sweet of me? Please pardon the mistakes, but this is the sixth letter I have written tonight and I have about six more to go.

I spoke to Evie tonight and I may go out to see her tomorrow night. However, I don't like to make anything definite, as something always happens.

I heard about the twenty-two page letter you wrote her, and am most anxious to see it. I guess now that you have met a Member of Parliament, we won't even be able to touch you. (I'm only kidding, of course.)

Ev has probably told you about the freak weather we are having. The temperature has been anywhere from 80 to 87 for the past two weeks. I can't help but wonder what the weather will be in July, if it is this way in March. YIPE!

Snuff is fine and is very happy at his new post. He is eligible for a furlough every ten months and is expecting one sometime in June or July. I hope everything works out. We at least can thank God for the fact that he is still in the country. I know that probably sounds very selfish to you guys that have been over for so long, but it can't be helped. He'll get his dose of "overseas duty.” They were told that they would be Army of Occupation - which is really something to look forward to. After all, the Engineers will have to build up everything that was torn down. It is a vicious cycle, but what are we to do.

Hal is fine and is getting to be quite a good boy. I have some adorable snaps of him that I'm waiting to be finished, and I'll send you one as soon as I get them. My Aunt bought him a sailor suit and he looks like a doll in it. I know, what is he doing with a sailor suit, when his Daddy is in the Army. If you remember, his Daddy wanted a sailor suit originally, and had no choice. But no kidding, Hal is really built for a sailor suit, what with his rear end sticking out the way it does.

I hear from Snuff regularly, and his mail takes about a week to reach me. I guess you know that he is working as a machinist for a civilian company but at Army pay. But still no complaints from this end. There is no chance of my joining him, as they were specifically told that their families could not join them. In the first place, the only city where I could stay is sixty miles away, and it would take him so long to reach there that it really wouldn't pay. But we are going to discuss it all thoroughly when he gets home on furlough.

Phil, I can't help but look forward to the good times we will have once more when this rotten mess is over. It is a good thing that we have memories to look back on, so that at least we have something to live on for the time that we are separated from our loved ones. (That is one of my more serious moments.)

Ev tells me you are pretty down in the dumps with the new idea of being shipped to the South Pacific without a furlough. I hope it is just an idle rumor. That is one of the reasons I am writing this letter. I don't want a serious thought in it. It is strictly for the purpose of building up your morale. I sincerely hope it succeeds.

I know that I have never written a joke to you, but I think you need them now, so here goes:

It happened at a diplomatic dinner in London. A gentleman was sitting beside a beautiful and charming blonde who possessed all the social graces. During the course of dinner, he put his hand beneath the tablecloth and started feeling her ankle. She gave him a brilliant smile. Encouraged, he went a little further and reached the calf with the same result. Becoming emboldened with encouragement, he went above the knee. Very soon, giving the diplomat a smile, she whispered in his ear, "When you come to my balls, don't change the expression on your face, I’m Secret Agent #5!"

Don't be embarrassed! I probably wouldn't have the nerve to tell it to you if I was in your company, but there are always exceptions.

If you are angry, I'll feel awfully bad. No, I'm not going to apologize. I just hope you enjoy it and it serves the purpose for which it was intended.

I saw the show “Winged Victory" here and it was really wonderful. I don't think I'll ever forget it until the day I die, that's how it impressed me. If you get an opportunity to see the picture, don't miss it. The show and the picture have almost the same cast. I shall see the picture at least eight times.

There really isn't much more I can write at the present time, as nothing is new, but, please, do write soon and let me know that I haven't done or said anything to make you angry.

Please let me know if there is anything I can send you. Don't be bashful and don't hesitate to ask me for anything. Also, I would like to ask you a favor. Next time you send a package to Ev, put in a little soveignor for Hal, from England, so I can put it away with his other ones. Thanks loads, and let me know if it can be done.

Affectionately,
Dotty

Post #618 - March 29, 1945 Do You Actually Mean to Tell Me That They Expect You to Go to the Pacific to Serve After All These Years? and I Had Committed Myself to Attend the Seder that was Arranged by the Jewish Families of Colchester for the Jewish Personnel of the Services in the Vicinity

 

March 30, 1945

My dearest Phil,

I really intended to write yesterday, but fate decreed otherwise, or rather, I was too tired and slept all evening. I felt very tired when I awoke yesterday and the whole day seemed like a dream to me. I had a busy day at work and got home to find my cousin Bella, Doris and Stevie there. Ruth had taken Adele in town for about an hour in the afternoon (to get her off my mother's hands for a little while). Bella brought Adele a sweet little yellow dress trimmed with orchid ric-rac. Adele hadn't eaten supper and I had to give her dinner. When she finished it was about 7:30 and I had been so hungry that my appetite abated by the time I could eat. Adele was cranky most of the day, so after eating what I could I took her outside and we sat about 15 minutes. I took her up at 8:15, bathed her and cleaned her shoes. When I finished I was so exhausted I could bearly stand up and decided to lay down for a few minutes and rest before washing and writing my letter to you. Next thing I remember is that it was 12 o'clock. I got up, got undressed and went right back to sleep, till 7:15 this morning. Today was the first day in several weeks that I actually felt rested sufficiently to keep going all day long.

I almost forgot to mention another highlight of yesterday. I received your v-mails of March 21 and 22. Your v-mail of the 21st was very sweet, honey, but I felt very sick in my stomach when I read yours of the 22nd. Do you actually mean to tell me that they expect you to go to the Pacific to serve after all these years? Well, I think the Army has its nerve and I don't mean maybe. There are too darn many slackers as it is that could be sent there to do the job. I'm so disgusted with the U.S. Army that it isn't even funny. Bitter - hell, it's worse than that - That, too, was one of the reasons why I had no appetite to eat dinner last night. Boy, I was in terrible shape yesterday.

There are two other things I've been meaning to tell you that I keep forgetting to mention - Anne Gutkin is pregnant (about her fourth month) (guess she wants to give Betty a name) and Jack S. is bending all efforts to get a furlough, which is due him now, as he has served 18 months in the Pacific.

The package of Dorothy Gray toilet articles is on top of the chest (I'm keeping it there for a while just to look at it and feel good) and Adele knows that it has something to do with my birthday. Every time she looks at it, she starts to sing Happy Birthday.

Evidentally you received my package of foodstuffs, as stated in your letter of the 21st and you ask for a duplicate. No sooner said than done. As you know, I have a package started, but it consists only of candy so far, and a few small packs of chiclets. Mom received an order of tuna and salmon from Gloria's brother (he's a grocer in New York and was good enough to send a dozen cans of each to keep on hand, at a reasonable price) and intended to send you a package too, so we'll just get together. I'll get some cheese and a salami and send a little more mayonnaise and butter thins. I'm glad you're so well pleased with the package. From your letter, I gather it arrived on our anniversary, so it was an anniversary, instead of a birthday gift.

We've had "June or July" weather the past two days and I doubt if it will continue indefinitely. It isn't even necessary to wear a coat.

Today was another full one for me, although I had cleaned up all odds and ends yesterday. I worked steadily on statements most of the day and since it is only past five and I've finished with every single bit of work I could possibly do, I'm using the time to write to you, with Mr. Bellet's consent.

As I told you some time ago, Al gave up the station. He hasn't been doing anything for several weeks now. He's looking for another business.

Diana and Adele get along famously, and at the present time Diana has a hacking cough, due, mostly to her teething. You must have received the picture of her by this time and can see for yourself what she looks like, so I won't go into detail.

Adele scared the life out of me the other day. We were about to go outside and I always hold her hand when we descend the front steps. This time, before I had a chance to get a hold on her, she said, "It's alright, mommy, I'll go down by myself", and straight away marched down the front steps without holding on to anything. I let her walk down the steps in the house alone, but she holds on to the bannister and I walk down a few steps in front of her for my peace of mind. Boy, was I happy to see her get down safely!

You can readily see, by my daily accounts, just how busy I am and have been, so that it is practically impossible for me to write to anyone beside you these days. I don't even have time for relaxation and recreation because Adele stays up too late. If I were home now, I'd have to keep her up all day and put her to bed early in order to have an evening to myself. However, that is a terrible grind and I'd rather my mother nap her late and put her to bed a little later, than have my mother go through such a tough grind all day. She's very wild these days and I'm about the only one she'll listen to. She loves to run and play rough - she's just at that stage. You'd get a real workout if you were home and I don't mean maybe.

Adele's speech becomes clearer and more distinct each day. The two main faults - saying "t" for "k" and "y” for "1" still remain, much as I try to correct her. Undoubtedly it will correct itself in due time.

Well, dearest, I'm just about out of time, as well as words, and so I'll sign off with my dearest love to you, honey, a couple of good, long kisses, and - well, we'll go into "that" some day, huh - Guess you know I am

Your Eve

30 March 1945

Dearest Chippie,

This is the first opportunity I have had to write since 26 Mar. I'm through apologizing for not writing because my conscience is clear in the matter. I will only say that I'm sorry that circumstances prevented me from doing as I would want to - to write every day. Tonight, because Dick Stahle is CQ, I thought I would type a letter in the Orderly Room. These past days have been hectic ones for me. I have a lot of work to do on personnel records. As a matter of fact, Chippie, I've estimated that in order to finish what I have to do on one particular form for each man in the Company, I'll have to work steadily at it for a full month! Now the hardest thing to do around here is to be able to work steadily at anything without being interrupted by sundry other matters - so it will probably take me much longer than that! Anyhow, in these past few days I have been busy every minute of each day, and the evenings found me so fatigued mentally that I had neither the stomach nor the energy for anything but sleep. That is why I didn't write on the 27th. On the 28th I felt just as I had the evening before, but it was the "First Seder” of Pesach, and I had committed myself to attend the Seder that was arranged by the jewish families of Colchester for the jewish personnel of the services in the vicinity, and I couldn't renege, even though I would have much preferred to write a short V-mail to you and hit the hay. It all came out very well, though, and after it was all over I was very glad I had come. You may be very sure, darling, that I was ever mindful through the night that it was your birthday, and I found myself wondering what you were doing at the time in the midst of the festivities. The Seder was a very striking and colorful affair. It was held in the dining room of Tweed & Co., a catering firm in Colchester. About 300 English, American and Canadian service men and women attended. In addition, there were a handful of civilians, the Woolfs, Schonbergs, Cohens, etc. Chaplain Richards of the British garrison in Colchester, conducted the services. We covered the "Haggadah" pretty thoroughly, one of the young British soldiers asked the “Fir Kashes", everyone joined in the singing, and no one got drunk, 'cause there was only a limited supply of wine. The meal, outside of the traditional egg, bitter herb, morra, etc., was ample, and very well prepared. There was tomato soup and hors d'oeuvres for an appetizer, filet of white fish, mashed potatoes and green peas, and a great preponderance of canned pineapple (provided by the American Quartermaster) for dessert. Pineapple, as all tinned fruit, is a greatly relished delicacy for our British friends. Some of them have not tasted it since the war started, and their appreciation was profuse and outspoken. They gorged themselves on it unashamedly, and it was almost funny to see the rueful glances they cast at the plates full that were beyond their capacity to dispose of. Klein drove one of the trucks, and I sat beside him in the cab. Altogether, there were thirty G.I.'s from this station that attended. I got back very, very tired, but somehow exalted by the memory of the Seder and some of the speeches of appreciation that concluded the festivities. Just to give you an idea of the representation, Sweet, I'll enumerate the speakers who spoke on behalf of their fellow servicemen. Chaplain Richards-British Army: Chaplain Davis (Protestant)-American Army; Lt. Creger-Canadian Airborne Forces; Lt. Berger-American Army Air Forces; A Lt. of the ATS (British WACS); Wing-Commander Jacobs - RAF; A Lt. of the American Ground Forces; a British sailor. Sitting next to me at table was an ATS girl, a native of germany, who emigrated to England about six years ago. Her parents left for Shanghai at the same time, and she has not heard from them since. I talked to her most of the evening. Needless to say, her story was most interesting. So, tired but happy, as the saying goes, I finally managed to get to bed. Yesterday was a repetition of the 28th (as far as the working hours were concerned). While I was on pass in Colchester on the 19th, I wrote to the Davies' to inform them that I would call on the 29th to learn whether Judith had come up from school, and to arrange for another visit. Accordingly, I went down to the Aero Club to call right after supper. Unfortunately, the trunk line was busy and I had a wait of about two hours before I could get thru. I killed the time having a snack with Klein, who accompanied me, and watching the dancing class. (Four local girls come in weekly to give instructions to the G.I.'s of the station who are desirous of learning to dance). At 10:20, my call came thru. Mrs. Davies answered the phone, and was as excited as a little girl with my call. Judith, who was upstairs at the time, came dashing down when she learned who was on the line. That seemed to amuse Mrs. Davies, too. Before I finished, I had also had a few words with the Doctor. I learned that Judith will be home all during April, and will return to school on the 30th, when Mrs, Davies will accompany her to London. I have decided to make a trip up there on the 9th, when I am taking my next 48-hour pass. Fully half the time will be spent traveling, but I expect to get a lot of reading done on the train, so I rather welcome the prospect. It would be worth it in any case to spend a full day at Meadowcroft. The Davies' were so very nice to me that I've actually missed them, and have been looking forward to seeing them again. To make a good thing perfect, the Army has just decided to pay our way wherever we may choose to travel on pass or furlough, so the trip won't cost me a penny. Ordinarily, it would cost me about ₤3 ($12.00). Mrs. Davies told me that she had heard from Ernie and that he had expressed an intention to get in touch with me, but as yet I have not heard from him. Needless to say, Sweet, I am looking forward to 9 April with a great deal of pleasureable anticipation.

Today was a repetition of the past two days, but I made up my mind I was going to make up for those three letters I didn't write, and after a short nap came over to the Orderly Room and got right to work, (How’m I doin', honey?) It is now just five minutes 'til "date time,” but I'm not giving up yet. Not, at least, 'til I've told you that I received four of your very sweet letters in the past three days. They were your V-mails of 15, 17, 18 March and your long typed letter of the 19th. The V-mails contained nothing startling and require no comment. The longie of the 19th informed me that you had received my "furlough manuscript” and my V-mails of 8, 9, 10 March. I'm very glad that you were so pleased with the "manuscript”, baby. Believe me when I say that those few words of appreciation repaid me for all the time I spent on it. I sincerely hope that you were able to "see" some of the things I saw and did in Yorkshire thru the medium of my writing. I hope that I was able to convey some of my own pleasure in the same way to you, my darling.

The bulk of your letter was concerned with your activities and the punkin's, and the visit of the Silvers. I was rather disappointed, though, to learn that Jean Levin is already in France. I had hoped to see her here in England. Too bad she missed Eddie as she did, but I think they'll see each other before long.

Sorry I couldn't send the punkin's proofs back to you any sooner, Sweet, but I just couldn't part with them so abruptly. However, I'm enclosing them here in the hope that I'll have the real picture before very long. Tell Adele that daddy liked her picture very much, and kiss her for me.

I guess you know that we are counting the days 'til the end of the war in Europe now, and there is a very good chance that it will be all over by the time this reaches you - I hope.

And now it is time to say au revoir, my darling Evie. My eyes just refuse to stay open any longer, and my weary bones yearn for the comfort of the despised but blessed sack. You know, of course, what other "comforts" I yearn for.... If you don't, you should.

For the present, though, I'll just have to be content with telling you once more that I adore you, my Evie. Here's a kiss for you, too, baby.

Please give my love to all. I am

Your ever-lovin'
Phil

Post #617 - March 28, 1945 Just Cause I'm 23 Today, Would You Mind Very Much If I Signed Off with 23 Long, Long Kisses and a Big Bear Hug for Good Luck.

 

3/28/45

My dearest,

Your letter of March 18th greeted me upon my arrival home and I enjoyed the accounts of your visit with Bert and Evelyn. What I wouldn't give to lounge around for just one day! I told Adele yesterday that tomorrow was mother's birthday and first thing on arising this morning she gave out with "Happy Birthday to you -" The only thing that made me angry was the fact that she got up at 6 to say it and I had gotten to bed at 1 A.M.! Oh, well, it's all in a lifetime and what's a little sleep - yeh, what is it. I was so tired and so busy cleaning up at work that I didn't have time to remember whether or not it was my birthday. Anne got a bright idea at work and when Mr. Bellet was in the office came forth with, "Well, kid, it's your birthday, so I'm going to treat you to a nice slice of pie for lunch." I thought he'd say something nice, but instead he piped in with, "Speaking of gifts, didn't you take a step-on can for someone last night?" So I had to pay him for it and that was that. After all his promises of gifts and treats I've come to the conclusion that he's the biggest bull-thrower that ever was. Anne did bring me delicious piece of huckleberry pie and my dad brought me ice-cream, so I had a royal lunch.

It was practically summer today, as far as I'm concerned. The weather is lovely and wish very much that we could take some walks together through the park, with Adele. Soon - huh -

Harry and Goldie gave me a lovely pale peach lace trimmed satin slip for my birthday. It's just what I need and I'm going to get myself several more - gradually. Adele is getting ready for a new pair of shoes and I am going to take her to Dr. Lefkoe before purchasing them, just to be sure her feet are okay. I should like to buy her low oxfords, for I feel she is ready for them, but he may have other ideas. There isn't anything wrong with her walk, except for a slight tendency to turn her right foot in, but day by day! I watch carefully and it is slowly, and surely disappearing. Now that she is taller and thinner her legs are straighter and not quite as chubby as they used to be. She has the cutest little figure -

Dot called me first thing early this morning to wish me a happy birthday. Mail from Snuff comes through very slowly. He writes a nice letter and is very satisfied with his present setup, that is as well satisfied as one in the Army can be.

It is past ten and I just finished bathing Adele, washing, showering myself, etc. and am going to hit the hay immediately after I finish this. I had a shot of delicious blackberry wine (a gift of Ethel and Al for the holidays) after dinner and it is taking effect. I hope you had a pleasant Passover dinner, baby, and that you'll spend your next one with me. Good night, angel mine, and just cause I'm 23 today, would you mind very much if I signed off with 23 long, long kisses and a big bear hug for good luck. I love you so much -

Your Eve

Post #616 - March 27, 1945 Undoubtedly You, Too, Heard the So-Called Peace Rumors that Floated About Today

 

3/27/45

Dearest Darling:

It is 12 A.M. and I have just returned from Marie Presti’s shower. I really hadn't intended writing this evening at all, but since I'm not too sleepy I thought I’d try to keep up my daily missive. I am just 23, since it is now really March 28th. Funny, I don't feel any different. I looked pretty nice this evening, even if I have to say so myself. I am wearing my coral and black dress (one of my two newest ones) and black doeskin shoes, (all closed and cut in D'orsay style - they are Ruth's and she agreed to sell them to me this very evening) I have a black velvet ribbon in my hair and my hair is very long and full and piled high on top. I wish I felt as well as I look at the minute and I would if I had more rest.

Adele did have some effects from the scarlet fever injection because she threw up after dinner this evening. The spot where the needle was injected is inflamed, but it hasn't affected the use of her arm any. I bathed her and washed her hair before going to the shower. I bought Marie a white porcelain step-on garbage can, which I got at our place for $2. She liked the gift very much and seemed very pleased with it.

My dad took Adele's stroller apart today and Mr. Bellet is having the body of the stroller sent back to the factory for repairs. The carriage would be useless as it is and there was nothing else he could do, much as he tried to squirm out of it. He's really a bugger when he gets started, but he can't do much when I get started.

I finished knitting the back of Adele's fuschia and gray sweater and stopped at the yarn shop before going to work to get my instructions for the front and sleeves. The wool I'm using is very fine and it takes hours to do a few inches. However it will be a serviceable sweater and won't show the dirt as much as those she has now.

Undoubtedly you, too, heard the so-called peace rumors that floated about today. Oh, darling, just the thought that it will actually end and soon is enough to give one a zest for life! As I said to Anne, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if it did happen on my birthday". It would be wonderful any day and the sooner the better.

I must take my leave for now, sweetness, as I'm getting wearier by the minute and want very much to get to bed. How I wish I had your strong arms to hold me close and your sweet lips to caress and kiss me! Oh darling -

I adore you so much -

Your Eve

Post #615 - March 26, 1945 I Phoned Dr. Gayl and Took Adele Right Down for Her First Scarlet Fever Shot and Somehow I Feel Guilty that I Should Be the Cause of Your Driving Yourself to Write Under Those Prohibitive Conditions

 

3/26/45 

My dearest Phil,

I have so much to say this evening and so little time and space. Three "wonderful" things happened to me today - your package of Dorothy Gray toilet articles arrived along with your letters of March 16 and 19. Mom called me at work to tell me about the package and we were all sure it was the doll. I was as excited as could be till I got to it. It comes in a light pink and big box with an enormous fuschia colored ribbon on top. It contains a bottle of bath oil (I don't even know how or what it's used for) a large box of dusting powder with a real glass top and a bottle of cologne. It's really lovely and I wish very much that I could kiss you instead of thank you - I’d enjoy it that much more. I'm not going to use it, though, until you come home and can help me enjoy it. Your letter of the 16th was in answer to my v-mail, decrying the lack of mail. I'm so glad you didn't "fly" at me for being so disgusted and you know as well as I do that I don't mean to hurt you. I just couldn't help feeling so terribly let-down. I'm sure you yourself can see how differently I sound when I receive mail regularly. Your v-mail of the 19th told of your visit to the Marks’ and I shall look forward to your letter of the 19th, which, no doubt, tells more of your visit with Bert and Evelyn. Yep, you sure is stubborn about the gee-gaw, but I don't mind waiting for that in the least. As you must have guessed, your birthday gift arrived almost to the day. At least your timing is better than mine. I had a very full day at work. Adele woke me twice last night and I wasn't too rested. Immediately after work I phoned Dr. Gayl and took Adele right down for her first scarlet fever shot (I'll bet you thought I'd never get around to it) (I had run into Mrs. Gayl on Saturday and told her I was about to give Adele the injections). Adele and I took the bus to Broad and Allegheny where the doctor has his office at present and got there in no time. Adele behaved like a regular young lady (she was a bit leery about entering his office at first) and when the doctor walked into the waiting room, said, "You must be the doctor." Adele weighs 34 lbs. is 37-1/2 inches tall and has very big tonsils that will have to come out in the fall or next spring. I hope, baby, that you will be home by that time so that we can both take her to the hospital. It's quite an ordeal and I hate to go through it alone. If I have to, I'll have to—I attracted her attention and before she knew what had happened the injection was finished. He gave me chocolate aspirins and told me to give her bicarb with boiled water (after the third shot) as they tend to become feverish and want to vomit. I’ll be very happy when this business is all over. There are generally five shots, but they increase them to seven (giving smaller doses towards the end) depending on how the child reacts. I had the doctor weigh me and I weigh 116-1/2, which he said isn't too bad for me. When we were riding home on the bus Adele said, "Him's a bad boy, him put a needle in my arm." I put Adele to bed, washed her clothes, cleaned her shoes and even sewed her overalls. Now I'm just about finished with this and "finished" for the night. I'm sure you won't mind if I cut this short??? by saying "I love you, Phil, darling" and, as if you didn't know, I miss you so much! Imagine, I'll be 23 - gosh, I'm getting up there, too. Good night, angel, and thanks so much for your devotion and love. It makes life bright for

Your Eve

26 March 1945 

My Darling,

Three of your v-mails arrived this afternoon, but they were little more than notes, which said more eloquently than any words, that you were not so much concerned with telling me anything  as you were with getting a letter in the mail to me each day. It was easy for me to sense that you had little patience for writing on those days the, 15th, 17th, & 18th, even if you hadn't told me the reason, Sweetheart. It is to your very great credit then, honey, that you did write, and I want you to know that I'm grateful for what must have been a hard effort for you on my account. Somehow I feel guilty that I should be the cause of your driving yourself to write under those prohibitive conditions. Please, baby, spare yourself the next time, will you? I’ll understand.

Last night, I saw "Tree Grows in Brooklyn” and was very disappointed that the picture covers only a portion of the story in the book. I told you in yesterday's letter that I meant to start a letter to Mom when I came back from the show, but I was very tired and drowsy when I returned to the hut and hit the sack straightaway. I feel the same way tonight, although I can’t imagine why I should. Guess Mom's letter will have to wait a more favorable opportunity. Tell her I’m thinking of her, will you, baby? "

The weather has turned bad again, and I’ve been gadding about in the rain a good bit today. Seems like my spirits depend a good deal on whether the sun shines or not.

I’ll write a “real” letter tomorrow, Ev darling, and will enclose the proofs. My love for you grows and grows, my own, and sometimes I wonder where I’ll hold it all. Kiss my punkin for me. God bless you both. Love to all.

Lovingly,

Your Phil

Post #614 - March 24, 25, 1945 I Only Wish We'd Both Come to Life Inside Once More and I Even Made a Bet as to the Date of V-Day

 

March 25, 1945

Dearest Phil:

Adele did not go to sleep until after ten last night and I never got to bed till twelve. I was sure Adele would sleep later this morning and allow me to get some sleep - but evidentally she doesn't think I need any. She was up like a bat out of a cannon, at 7 sharp and rarin' to go. If only you were here and could take her off my hands at these times - I'd certainly appreciate being able to sleep - just one single morning. I can't seem to remember ever lying abed until I felt like getting up - what's it like? I know you don't do it often, but at least you get the opportunity to do it once in a while. If you think the Army with its rulings and enforcements is bad, mister, you ought to try being a mother - any and everything goes and then some.

I decided not to nap her so that she would go to bed early and give me at least one evening to myself. So - I ran around with her all day long and tired myself out but good. I had promised Mom we would clean the venetian blinds downstairs today, and brought Adele in about 3:30 and let her play her on the porch while we busied ourselves with the blinds. It was 5:30 when we finished. Adele had her dinner and went straight to bed. She wouldn't go to sleep for quite a while, but she's sleeping now and I'm so thankful to have a little time to myself.

Emma Strongin called us late in the afternoon to tell us that she is leaving for California this evening to join Phil. It's possible that Phil may go overseas and she wants to be with him as much as possible if such is the case.

The news sounds wonderful, in fact I sometimes have to pinch myself to make it seem true. Do you mean to tell me, sweet, that this war might be over soon? Incredible! After waiting so long, I've come to a point where I don't believe anything unless I see it with my own two eyes and I won't even believe that it is over until my eyes can gaze upon you.

I'm sorry, sweet, that I haven't had time to write to the Davies’ as you requested, and will try to do so in the near future. Adele keeps me stepping at such a fast pace when I am home these days that I have very little taste for letter-writing or anything that requires concentration. I noted, in your 22 page letter that you gave Mr. Edwards my mother's telephone number (Mic. 8207) and not our telephone number, which, in case you'd forgotten, is Dav. 2612.

Really, honey, I should take myself out tonight for some entertainment and relaxation, but I'm much too tired to stray from the house. It's two weeks since I've been out an evening and this continual staying in does me a whole lot of no good. I noted in your last batch of letters that you seem to make the most of each evening, by going to the movies, weekly dance or whatever comes your way. I enjoy reading your accounts of each because it makes up in part for the times I have to stay in. I usually relax in the living room for a little while before hitting the hay and read and reread your letters. I've reread your 22 pager many, many times. It's almost a book. I do hope someday you'll try to write a book. I know you have the talent (even though you think I'm prejudiced} and I assure you I am not, in that respect, as numerous others share my opinion.

Spring shone forth in all its glory and brought everyone out on their porches and steps. It's good to see the world come to life again, after a bitter cold winter. I only wish we'd both come to life inside once more -

I adore you, darling, and want very much to continue on this, however I must get a card to send to Stuart (today is his first birthday) and will post this at the same time. Good night, baby, and I pray I shall not have to say it through this medium much longer.

Your Eve

25 March 1945

Dearest Evie,

There was no fresh mail for me today, and because it has been no different than most days, I don’t have anything much to write about. I was reading over your letter of 28 Feb. that accompanied the proofs of the punkin and noticed that I had failed to tell you which post to have made up for me. Hence I am submitting my order forthwith: One (1) 5 x 7 (sitting pose), colored—of course! I’m awaiting the other picture (of Adele writing on the blackboard) with the greatest impatience. Glad you got out to the movies, for a change, to see “Frenchman’s Creek” with Eddie. What is Eddie doing these days, incidentally, still taking it easy? This evening I’m going to see “Tree Grows in Brooklyn” at the base theater. I’m looking forward to it with a great deal of pleasurable anticipation, ’cause if it’s anything like the book, it should be a “smasher” (as Bert might say). I’m going to try to catch the first showing so that I’ll have an hour or two afterward to start a letter to Mom.

The news from Germany gets more encouraging daily. I even made a bet as to the date of V-day. I can’t tell you the date, Sweet, but I can say that I’m getting odds of 2-1, so you can gather from that that I didn’t guess too far into the future—

Forgot to tell you, honey, that your rather long air-mail letter of 13 March arrived yesterday. There was nothing about it that required any answering, since you filled almost the entire two typed pages with the descriptions of Ruth’s new dresses and your new jumper. The letter is remarkable, though, for the speedy trip it made. Eleven days for an air-mail letter is very good time, I think.

By the way, Chippie, if you are missing letters for 20 and 24 March just be patient a little longer, ’cause it’s a longie in a blue envelope, and may be slow getting thru. I started it on the 20th, and finished it on CQ last night. I’m anxiously awaiting your reply to the installment of the 24th, so give what I said a lot of thought before you attempt to answer it. Kiss Adele for me. Love to all. I love you, my Eve.

Your Phil