Post #647 - May 12, 1945 Can It Be That Our Luck is That Bad??? and Once I Return Home, I'll Have Only Three People's Interests at Heart—Yours, Adele's, and Mine

 

May 12, 1945

Dearest Phil,

There will be no letter for the 11th. My intentions were good - or shall I say the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. When I returned from work, had dinner, bathed Adele, washed her hair and then some clothes, I decided to lay down for an hour or so before writing. As it was, I slept from 9 to 10:30, whereupon I arose just long enough to go down and bring up my clock, get undressed, and back into bed I went for the rest of the night till 6:45 this morning. Diana cried all night (she is teething) and woke Adele once. I held my breath until she went back to sleep for fear that she, (Adele) too, would be troublesome all night.

After my usual five hours at work today I had lunch at H & H with Anne and we, went shopping together for Mother's Day. We shopped all afternoon and came home with nothing. All I know is that I was so weary I could bearly move. After resting, giving Adele her dinner, getting her to bed, eating my own dinner and resting some more I am writing on this.

The two bouquets and the corsage came late this afternoon. The corsage is lovely, but for some reason or other I'm way down in the dumps. Besides I have no place to go and I do wish I could go somewhere to show off that lovely corsage. The bouquets were very disappointing and skimpy. Don't feel badly about it, because both Moms were thrilled with them, regardless of their quantity. I know how high flowers are and while the carnations themselves are really beautiful they make up a skimpy bouquet. But they are much appreciated nevertheless and it isn't your fault, and your good intentions are realized by all. My mother's bouquet consisted of twelve carnations with some branches of green leaves, while Mom's was some fern and nine carnations. The flowers, by the way, are all pink. The bouquets last year were much nicer.

May 13, 1945 

In case you're wondering what happened in the interim, let me enlighten you. When I finished typing the above, I got a brilliant idea and decided to take Mom to the movies. We promptly dressed and left for the Logan to see "Roughly Speaking" with R. Russell and Jack Carson.

Let's start at the beginning. I last wrote to you on Thursday, immediately before going to the Lindley with Fay to see “Meet Me in St, Louis" with Judy Garland. It was an attractive picture and entertaining, but I didn't care for it. It was about 12:30 when I got to bed. Incidentally, while at the movies I saw those movies depicting the Nazi atrocities and they were terrible.

I've already told you what happened on Friday, with the exception that I received your v-mail of May 3rd, which requires no comment.

Yesterday (Saturday). I received your v-mails of May 5th and 6th and from the tone of your letters I gather that you're not too pleased with your present position as concerns discharge from the Army. I kind of felt the same way all along and I'm praying it will not be so and that you will be discharged. The Air Corps is being handled differently from what I've read in the papers and I'm hoping that it will be to your advantage. Can it be that our luck is that bad??? It seems to me that hard luck dogs our way every time we look forward to something to our advantage. Naturally, we'll have to accept whatever course is taken, but that doesn't mean that I shall be pleased about it, if it is other than I want it to be. No need to tell you how much I shall be looking forward to your next few letters. This "indefiniteness" always did get me down and it's no different now than it was when we started with the draft board - or, rather, when they started with us. Four years of Army has gotten me fed up to the ears and I wonder how much more I'll be able to stand of it.

I know full well how much it means to you to get home and be with us as before and if there's a God he'll certainly look to us this time or I shall be very, very disappointed.

Harry happened to be going to Broad St, when Mom and I left and had gotten a cab, so Mom and I piled in, much to Mom's relief. Since Harry's income has increased to such high proportions he's extremely liberal with his dough and no expense is too great for him. On Broad St. I made Mom stop at one of the hat shops, wanting to buy her a hat, but nothing looked well on her. However, I was able to get an idea of what does look well on her and will try to get something for her in town. I bought my mother a clothes basket, at her request and am giving her $5 in cash. "Roughly Speaking" was a very entertaining film and one that made me "think". Hard luck dogged the tracks of R. Russell in most everything she undertook to do and I wondered if I could hold up as well under such circumstances. I don't think so.

After the movies we walked home and stopped in Ben's for ice-cream. When we got back to the house Harry and Goldie gave Mom her Mother's Day gift - a lovely acqua and brown print cotton dress and two pairs of silk stockings. Harry bought Goldie the following: A corsage like mine, except that hers has three gardenias, instead of two as mine does, a mirrored and mahogany jewel box filled with Dairy Maid candy and a pair of 10 K gold earrings with amethyst stones (and Goldie couldn't help telling me that he paid $20 for the earrings). He wouldn't tell her at first, but she insisted on knowing only the price of the earrings, which are really beautiful.

It was one o'clock when I decided it was high time I got to bed. I don't feel so well, expecting to have my period before the day is out. I thought I'd get all dressed up and take pictures, but I'm afraid the weather is not conducive to picture taking. It was raining this morning (yes, again) but it is clearing up now and if at all possible I shall try to take some snaps of Adele and myself.

I'm keeping the corsage in the refrigerator to keep it fresh. I shall wear it this afternoon when we all go out to eat. I'm going to wear my new acqua dress to set it off just right. During the past week I've been out three times and if we go out today as we plan, it will make four times in one week. That's me—either I go out too much or I stay in too much. I don't mind the going out in the least, except that it gives me little and sometimes no time to catch up on some much needed sleep. Friday night I was just too tired to live and it's a good thing I caught up on my rest, 'cause I got to bed very late last night and stayed awake most of the night, feeling very crampy. The blues had me in their grip and consequently I cried myself to sleep.

Enclosed are the pictures we took last Sunday. I've made some comments on the back of each. By the way, how do you like me in cape sleeves? I know you're going to say Harry looks stout - he is, weighing 240.

You mentioned in one of your v-mails that you were sending along $55 to cover Adele's insurance. I don't want to quibble about "little things" either when such big events are taking place in the world, so will you accept my thanks? I assure you I am most appreciative of your efforts in this connection. The money, when received, will go into our bank account, which, at the present time totals $400,

This morning when Adele was all dressed in her little blouse and skirt, she said, "Mommy, Daddy's going to come home"! When I asked why, she said, "He has to see how pretty I look!" How true, how true! Phil, she comes out with so many surprising remarks she really floors me at times. I do wish I had more patience for letter-writing, let alone time. Darling, if only you'd come home soon -

Adele seemed sleepy, so I put her into her crib for an early nap, which, is most unusual for her. I'm going to join the folks and have some lunch. If it's at all possible I intend to catch a nap myself before getting dressed. Thanks so much, darling, for everything and I wish so much that you could be here to share it with us. I love you so much, dear daddy, and am your loving

Eve

Darling,

Decided to add a few??? more words to this just in case I don't have the opportunity to write at length tomorrow.

After lunch I went upstairs to find that Adele hadn't napped at all. Instead she had busied herself making a tiny hole in the sheet take on large proportions and the sheet itself was almost in shreds. So I did the next best thing - dressed her and myself. When we were all ready we both looked like fashion ads - no kiddin'. Adele wore her squared-necked white pleated blouse, her little green and red plaid wool pleated skirt, her locket, white socks, red beret and new blue coat (with a pink carnation on the lapel. She looked very neat and very smart. I'm wearing my hair differently again (yes, again). This time I part it in the center and merely brush it back, sort of a Hedy LaMarr style, except that it is very soft and fluffy. I put the bottom of my hair in a fine invisible net. I borrowed a pair of Mom's earrings (Glo once gave them to her) that consist of a cluster of three pearls. These matched perfectly to the pearl buttons running down the front of my bright acqua dress. There wasn't a soul who didn't comment on the acqua dress when i made an appearance, and the comments were extremely favorable. Naturally, I wore the corsage and it was set off beautifully by the brilliant acqua color, very much like the outfit I wore when we were married. I don't think, I shall wear that dress much, as I'm certain you will love it and I want you to see it while it's still new. Adele and I went walking to Emma's house and stayed a short while. Phil is shipping to a POE tomorrow.

Walking back from Em's it became so uncomfortably warm that we had to remove our coats. It was very much like summer today, but just as all the other days thus far in May, we had several rainstorms, most of which took place toward evening. It is almost nine o'clock and I'm endeavoring, in some small way give you an idea of how we looked. It's really a pity we couldn't take snaps. No camera was the cause, although we do have film.

Ethel, Al, Paul, Stuart and Rae came over about three o’clock. Ethel bought Mom a seersucker dress and Mickey and Rae filled her desire for a pair of pajamas. I wish you could see Mom in the pajamas! It was like a madhouse here all afternoon and shortly after the first raft left, in walked Lena, Etta and Nat. Adele is beginning to get her two year molars and was very out of sorts both yesterday and today. Adele is breaking herself of her afternoon naps and hasn't had one for days now.

Before starting this supplement I wrote a nice letter to Gloria, thanking her for everything and sending along one of the family snaps made last Sunday. I have a lot of typing to do for my mother and will do it as soon as I finish this. I didn't get unwell yet and I'm not surprised. It seems that I'm a day or two or three late each time.

I'm enclosing a notice about the 8th Air Force which appeared in today's paper. Do you know anything about it? I'm also enclosing a card Mr. Bellet received from the Hi-Flier Company, from whom we purchase kites, because I thought the card very cute, and that you might enjoy reading ít.

My cousin Bessie's husband was one of the very first to be discharged, so we learned from the papers. Big deal -

Only one thing could have made this day complete for me and that was you. Darling, I miss you so keenly and each time I gazed at the corsage or even smelled it I got so very full inside I wanted to cry out. I love you so much my dearest and wish very much that I could take you in my arms and tell you with words and actions just how I adore being

Your Eve

12 May 1945

My Darling,

It is Sunday afternoon, the first Sunday we've had off in almost two years. Instead of sleeping late, as sensible people would do, Klein and I got up at 7 o'clock to ride down to the mess-hall for breakfast. When we got back, we lay down for a nap, but it is such a lovely afternoon, that it seemed a waste of a lot of sunshine to stay indoors. We accordingly got into our bathing trunks and went down the road to get into the volleyball game. We played for about an hour and a half and then went to see if we had any mail. Klein had a few letters, but I didn't get any. Then I remembered about that roll of film I have, and suggested we borrow a camera and take some snapshots. Unfortunately, one of the fellows took the only "620" camera on furlough with him, so we were out of luck on that score. Having a few hours to kill before supper and the first show, which is "The Climax", I decided to get my letter off to you and then shower. There is a Victory Dance" at the Aero Club tonight, so I believe I'll take it in. The "New Yorkers", a twelve-piece band, who are highly touted, will play for the dance.

You may have noticed, Chippie, that I've been writing on an average of every other day. This is because I find it almost impossible to write every day. As compensation, instead of short V-mails, I'll try to write letters of decent proportions, as formerly—O.K? Your V-mail of 2 May arrived yesterday, and while it contained some items of interest, such as Sonya's visit to Philly, and her news of Jack's wedding, Jennie Zaslow's coming marriage (Dave's brother is a lucky guy—she's a sweet girl), your plans to take family pictures when Glo comes in, and the rather surprising news that your Dad is applying for a job as an insurance salesman, there is no need for further comment.

When I wrote that “longie" of 10 May in answer to yours of 28 April, I forgot to comment on your information that you finally aired your intention to make a break to the folks. I think you picked the ideal time to announce it to them, Sweet. Having previously made known their own intentions of taking off for the summer, they didn’t have much justification for feeling hurt, did they? What's more, it don't think it was at all fair of them to so make their plans that you would be left alone in 4906. It is just this kind of thoughtlessness that makes me burn. Believe me, honey, I'm through worrying about everyone else. Once I return home, I'll have only three people's interests at heart—yours, Adele's, and mine. Just between you and me, Sweet, I've been disappointed in Mom or more than one occasion. She evidently has the mistaken idea that she has no responsibilities toward anyone but herself. However, if she expects me to be responsible for her, she'd do well to change her attitude. I always liked having her with me, and would like to continue to do so, but I won't tolerate a purely selfish attitude on her, or anyone else's, part. She'll have to “pull her own weight” as long as she is able if she expects to live with us. You needn’t fear that I am blinded to her faults thru sheer loyalty, Sweet, (as is the case with some sons), nor would I have any qualms about telling her off in any matter where I felt she hadn't behaved as she should. If I remember correctly, I did just that before I look you to Columbus. I know I can trust you, darling, not to take advantage (at Mom's expense) of your “priority” in my obligations. In closing, you have my best wishes for a successful and happy outcome to the course you are taking. I hope everyone concerned will profit by the "break". My one regret is that I’ll have to revise my dream of coming home to "4906.” I think, honey, you've underestimated the affection I felt for the place.

Time to shower, now, baby, so I'll take my leave now with all my love to you, and Adele—and all. Keep hopin'—honey. I am!—and keep writing, as often as you can, to 

Your ever-lovin' Phil

P.S. I'll write to the Jacks tomorrow—I hope!

Post #646 - May 11, 1945 Never Have I Seen the Men More Shocked or Stricken About Anything Since I've Been in the Army

 

11 May 1945

Dearest Darling,

Received your typed letter of 28 April this afternoon—the one you started on the 28th that is, and completed on the 29th. It was the first one I received addressed to the new squadron, and is chock full of questions. Chippie—why do you insist on asking me things that it's almost impossible for me to give a straight answer to? Like "Is the change for the better"? - or "Will you remain in England"? - or "Do you stand a chance of getting a promotion"? The answer to all three is the same—I really don't know. I can only draw conclusions from what I read in the papers, hear on the radio, and from what is happening here. As to the latter, I can't be too specific about that, either, for two reasons: (1) Censorship, (2) You might misinterpret the meaning of what is happening, as I may have done already. Two weeks ago I was almost convinced that we were coming home—very soon—possibly in June. Since then, I have heard and read, and seen so many conflicting things that I don't know what to believe. When I told you I might have “good news for you soon" I was pretty sure that we were getting ready to go to the States. Since then, enough has transpired to make me doubt it. Yesterday, as you know, the point values for demobilization were announced. Never have I seen the men more shocked or stricken about anything since I've been in the Army. Some of the men in the service units here on the field have as much as 2-1/2 to 3 years' service overseas (with never a furlough home). Naturally, they had every right to hope they stood a good chance of going home. Imagine how they felt, then, when the lowest number of points considered eligible for discharge was announced as 85! True—the fathers in that category would qualify (and how many could there be?), but what of the poor single guy, who, say, had a year’s domestic service and three year’s overseas service to his credit? He would have only 84 points, which almost automatically puts him in the position of having to sweat it out at least another year, which is how long we have been told it will take to demobilize the 1,300,000 men they figure have 85 points or over now!" What chance, then, have my own buddies - the fellows I came overseas with? They have only served a measly 21 months overseas, with an average of about a year's domestic service, a total of 53 points for the single men and non-fathers, and 65 points for the fathers. Yet, no one could blame them for hoping that they might stand a chance, too. Surely, no one will ever convince these men that they haven't been in the service and overseas plenty long enough! However, there is another factor that is far and away the greatest source of "bitching.” The ground, as well as the combat personnel of the Fighter Sqdns. here on the base, have been authorized no less than four battle participation stars at 5 points per star, for a total of 20 points. The service units, who have worked side-by-side with the ground crews all this time, and whose men actually did the heavy maintenance and repair on the planes, get nothing! This sort of discrimination has, naturally made the men of the service units very bitter against the point system which, in itself is not at fault. Some of the situations which have arisen out of this thoughtless, hit-or-miss fashion of awarding the bronze service stars are so ridiculous that they would be funny if it weren't all so deadly serious. For instance, a clerk in headquarters, or a K.P. pusher, or a latrine orderly, who is lucky enough to be assigned to one of the 3 Fighter Sqdns, and has 65 points for service, by dint of the battle participation awards becomes eligible for discharge. The counterpart of these men assigned to the service units, and, what is more ironic, the airplane mechanics and crew chiefs who were responsible for keeping the planes in the air, but had the bad luck to be assigned to a service unit—get not a point. I've heard of some unfair and discriminatory practices in civilian life, but this one takes the cake! The injustice of it all is all the more deplorable because one doesn't expect that sort of thing from the Army. But wait—as if all this weren’t enough, the "Stars and Stripes", the servicemen’s own paper came out with a strip that was so worded that the men of the service units becomes eligible for any battle participation awards which were authorized the Group to which they were attached. Of course, the removal of this bone of dissension was hailed by all of us as being the only logical thing to do. Then, a few days later, a letter from Hq. 8th Air Force, said that the original decision (to award the stars to the AC personnel, but not to the service units) would stand! All this happened just before the War Department announced that each star had a value of 5 points. When the shocked G.I.'s of the service units had made the simple computation 4x5=20—20 points—20 months of domestic service -—10 mos. overseas service—the difference (for a great majority) between getting out of the Army soon and sweating out the Japanese campaign—well, I think you can gather what they felt! You must know how I (with my 71 points) felt! I was, and am, so damned mad about it all that I feel I'll bust if I don't let off some steam! I can well imagine, Sweet, how you must have been let down when you totalled my points and found them 14 short of the required minimum. All day today, I've been trying to find out if my year in the Enlisted Reserve will be counted towards demobilization. The papers specify “total service” but not “total active service,” so there’s just a bare chance that my total with be 83 points, although I’d hesitate to give myself hopes on that score. I’d give a lot, Chippie, to be able to give you some encouragement as to my early return home (at least temporarily) but of recent days, I’ve been so thoroughly disillusioned that, like the other fellows, I’m only ready to believe the worse. My innate optimism has all but disappeared, but there is still enough left, darling, to caution you against giving up hope. At the very worst, we can still hope for an early end of the war in the Pacific. With the preponderance of military might that the Allies are concentrating against the japs, it should not take long to crush them—possibly a year.—But enough of this. There are a few other things I want to talk about before I sign off: You want to know more about my job, altho’ I thought I had covered it pretty well in my recent letters. The work of processing at the Station Headquarters, I thought you understood, was of a temporary nature—until we completed checking the records of all the men. Then I returned to work in the Squadron Orderly Room, remaking and checking the organization's "Forms 20" (EM's Qualification Cards). That lasted about a week. Today I returned to Headquarters as part of the team processing the Officers' records. We should finish that day after tomorrow, after which I will resume my work on the "Forms 20." That's about all from this side of the fence, honey—except, I might mention that I ordered a Fathers Day gift thru the PX for Dad, which, however, probably won't reach him ’til about mid-July. Hope he likes it. 

The news about Jack N. didn’t surprise me at all.—I've seen it coming on. In any case, Sweet, I see no reason for you to be distressed by it. It is purely his business, and I for one, am wishing him nothing but the best. Don’t jump to conclusions, baby—who knows that they won’t be gloriously happy despite the handicaps? I expect to write to him tomorrow in your care. Not so much because I want you to see what I have written (although you might do well to take your cue from me) as because the guy has moved around so much, that I don't rightly know his present address. 

There is a possibility (I’ve just confirmed it) that henceforth we will be working a six-day week instead of seven, as formerly. This means I’ll have Sundays off. I'll give you one guess as to how I’ll utilize that time. Right! Brother Jack, Gloria, Dottie, Mom, and any other correspondents will be hearing from me once again. You may inform them, darling—

Was very glad to learn that Harry W. has good hopes of coming home soon. I'll try to get a letter off to him soon, too.

Your information about my being able to get a furlough home is, to put it bluntly, all wet. If the Group is fortunate enough to be sent home in toto before re-deployment I'll get to see you for about a month or forty-five days otherwise, not a chance!

You persist in feeling badly about the bracelet, altho’ it's far from worth it. I'm sorry now that I even sent it. Certainly I didn’t intend it as a source of potential aggravation for you! But if it's any comfort to you, darling, you might be interested to learn that it is repairable, Take it around to the neighborhood jeweler (maybe Eddie could do it for you) and tell him that “Acetone" can be used to repair the break so you'd never notice it. Once repaired, you can fit it to your wrist by making it supple by immersion in hot water. "

I'm almost as relieved as you are, Sweet, that the punkin has completed her shots. I hope the Dick Test proves her immune, so that all your trouble will not have been in vain.

It's very late, now, darling, and I must sign off now. Before I do, tho’, I want to ask you to continue to be of good heart—whatever the future holds for us, and to take a never ending satisfaction from the eternal love and devotion of

Your Phil

Post #645 - May 9, 1945 We Can Only Hope for a Speedy Trip Home, But We Can't Count On It

 

9 May 1945 

Darling Evie,

Last night, after working in the morning, and loafing in the afternoon, I went to the first show to see "Christmas Holiday" with Deanna Durbin and Gene Kelly. There I ran into Marty Weinstein. The picture was different, if nothing else, and thought-provoking, too. Going back, Marty and I got to discussing it, and one thing led to another, and before we realized it, we had run the gamut of human psychology and the night was gone and I didn't get to write to you, Today because we are celebrating the end of the war by taking off from work, I only worked a half day (in the morning). I figured that since there is a backlog of work to last another month or so, a coupla hours wouldn't make much difference. Accordingly, after lunch, I got into a game of volleyball and played for about two hours. This was the first exercise I have had for almost two years, and I felt much better for it. Having worked up a good sweat (it being a cloudy, sultry day) I made for the showers and had a most refreshing bath. While I was bathing, it occurred to me that tonight is Wednesday night, the night of the regular weekly dance at the Aero Club. Since I had to dress anyway, I decided I might as well put on my "class A's" and take in the dance. This I did, but when I finished dressing it was only 5 P.M., so I finished reading Thorne Smith's “Passionate Witch", which I had been reading in fits and starts. It was then only 6 P. M., and still two hours ’til the dance commenced, so I borrowed some stationery from Dave Chumley and went to the Day Room to write this, which brings me right up to the minute—

Your V-mail of 30 April arrived yesterday afternoon, and I was no less than delighted with its contents. I have nothing but praise for your fair-mindedness, Sweet, in conceding that what I said in my “nasty” letter was true, and therefore didn’t make you angry. I'm afraid I did you an injustice in implying that you were being narrow-minded about the controversial issue we had under discussion. I was highly gratified, too, Chippie, that you finally got impatient with our quibbling and called a halt (much as I did in my last letter). 

The bit about Adele's conversation with the driver of the "C” bus amused me. She must be a cute little tyke! I, too, am glad that the ordeal of the Scarlet Fever injections is over. It wasn't pleasant for me to read of the punkin's ailing and your consequent difficulty with her.

Forgot to tell you, baby, that on the 5th May, I sent off $55.00 to you to replace the amount you withdrew from the bank to pay the premium on Adele's insurance. I must admit that I was torn between two alternatives about what to do with the money. First I thought I would put it into Soldiers' Deposits and add something each month, so that when I come home, I could nonchalantly throw a coupla hundred bucks at you and say something smart like: "Here, go by yourself a pair of stockings"—or something equally clever. Then it occurred to me that the depletion of our bank account for the purpose of paying the insurance premium must have, to put it mildly, depressed you. I thought that if I sent you the money to make up the deficit, you would undoubtedly, think that I am a pretty nice guy after all, and that perhaps all the mean things you have been saying to me about the way I spend my money weren’t justified after all. Thus, it became a choice between surprising you very much—later, or surprising you a little bit now. Being an impatient sort of guy at heart, and I must also admit being possessed of a perfectly human desire to feel that I am, after all, of some use to my daughter (to say nothing of the satisfaction I derive from the fact that you might feel a little put out at the accusations you made against me), I decided on the latter course. I am enclosing the receipt merely to get rid of it - I have a locker full of bits and pieces of paper now.

I've been wondering, darling, how you took the news of the end of the war and what it made you feel. I can foresee that now that Germany has collapsed, you will be more impatient than ever for my home-coming. Please try to curb this tendency, honey, for your own peace of mind. I, and all my buddies, are still completely in the dark as to what is in store for us. We can only hope for a speedy trip home, but we can't count on it, and neither should you. On the other hand, you should not be discouraged, either, 'cause I have a hunch that everything will turn out just as we would want it to. All the same, the wise thing to do would be to reckon equally with all possibilities. Naturally, I'm most anxious to learn the points system set-up for partial demobilization. It's just possible that I'll squeeze into the upper bracket. Whatever happens, Evie, darling, be of good heart. We still have much to be thankful for. I love you more than ever—I really do. My best love to our daughter. Love to all from

Your adoring Phil

Post #644 - May 7, 1945 A Date to Remember

 

7 May 1945

(A date to remember)

Dearest One,

On this, the eve of V-E Day, the Day we have looked to so hungrily all during the past four-and-a-half years, I consider it no more than fitting that I digress from my usual brand of small talk and tell you what I am thinking and feeling on this never-to-be-forgotten evening—

The glorious news that the Germans had surrendered unconditionally to the Allies, and that all hostilities in Europe had ceased, came to us over the Tannoy (public-address system) here on the base at a few minutes after 10 A.M. I was at work in the Orderly Room, but at the first words to come over the Tannoy, I, and the six other fellows in the Orderly Room, with one accord dropped what we were doing and dashed outside to hear the glad tidings. In yesterday's letter, Sweet, I told you we had been expecting just such an announcement, and in all truth, it did come as an anti-climax (the enemy was so obviously shattered weeks ago), but still the great news has been so long awaited, that the actuality had the unreal quality of things that are too good to be true. So it was that instead of a great spontaneous outburst of cheering, excitement and general hilarity that one night expect as a general reaction to such news, there was a tightly repressed exhilaration, the result of half-fearing to believe that the war had actually ended. As the morning wore on, however, and the enormity of victory, complete as any, did their soothing influence to the atmosphere. I wish, darling, that I could do justice to the scene, which was almost by way of being a phenomenon. No words of mine, or anyone’s, could possibly paint the picture in your mind. It occurred to me at the time that if the Almighty set about to give us a day in keeping with, and symbolical of our hardly-won and new-found Peace, He couldn't have made it more perfect!

When I got back to the hurt, there wasn't a soul there. Most of the fellows have gone into town to celebrate. The quiet is almost uncanny. Feeling the need to talk to you, Ev, darling, I got out my stationery, walked to the Day-Room, which I have all to myself and commenced this.

My heart is very full at the moment, Sweet, with a variety of emotions: gratitude (that it's all over); happiness (ditto), and loneliness - which only your own beloved presence will banish.

You must feel very much the same way, my darling, and I am in the peculiar position whereby I can both rejoice and sympathize with you.

My prayer now is that the peace that has come to a great part of the world is the harbinger of the realization of all our hopes. May the men who bought the peace with their blood and their lives somehow be aware that they have won what they fought for. Amen!

Ever, Your adoring Phil

Post #643 - May 6, 1945 Most of Us are Looking for the Declaration of V-E Day Tomorrow, or Tuesday

 

6 May 1945

My Darling,

It's been three days since I had any mail. Not that that's so unusual. I was wondering if receipt of my “nasty” letter didn't perhaps cause you to suspend writing temporarily as a means of retribution. I shall be greatly surprised - yes, and disappointed in you if such proves to be the case. Deep down, I know you wouldn’t do a thing like that, but as I have said, I was wondering—There is really very little I can tell you tonight, honey, except that the end of the war in Europe (i.e., the official end) is expected momentarily. Most of us are looking for the declaration of V-E day tomorrow, or Tuesday. Strangely enough, I can't get excited about it. I can only feel very good inside that no more of our boys will be killed or wounded on European battlefields. As for the immediate effects V-E day will have on me individually, I’m pretty much in the dark. The plans for the re-deployment of the Sqdn. have, in all probability, been decided some time ago, but we can't be sure which of three possible courses will be ours, and that's why I can't get excited about the finishing of our work here. The three alternatives I believe you know, but I’ll enumerate them for you, anyway. (1) Return to the States, (2) Direct re-deployment to the Pacific Theater. (3) Air Force of occupation. You know, of course, Sweet, that only one of the three will suit me, and you must know that I have my own private opinion of which it will be, and what that opinion is, but we must not lose sight of the fact that they are equal possibilities. At any rate, whichever it will be has probably been decided for us, so we'll have to accept it, whatever it is. But we should know within the next month or two, in any case. In the meantime, I'm keeping very busy. The days fly by like so many minutes—indeed, I’m working against time to get the records I am charged with up-to-date, and I can’t see how I can attain that happy condition for at least a month yet at the rate I am going. I think I explained that it's slow work. I know no way to speed it up, tho’, so I'll just have to keep plugging along as best I can. Incidentally, the Orderly Room staff, up to its ears in work, cannot get passes until it has caught up. It is just four weeks since I've had a pass, or even left the station, and if I can't get a pass ’til I get caught up, well, the next time I’ll leave the base will probably be when we move. I won't even mind that, honey, just so long as we move in the right direction. G’night now, sweetheart. I love you so much!

Your Phil

P.S. A kiss for Adele. Love to all.

Post #642 - May 5, 1945 Please Try to Believe that I’m Doing the Best I Know How in All “Departments”

 

5 May 1945 

Dearest Darling,

Last night I spent two hours filling three large pages with reasons why I took exception to most of the things you said in your letter of 21 Apr. During the course of my remarks, though, I said some things that were calculated to cut deep. When I finished I went to the movie to see "And now Tomorrow." On my return to the hut re-read what I had written, and then, liking myself very little for trying to hurt you (even tho' my remarks were justified and you deserved to be hurt a little) - I tore the letter and discarded it. I had done a lot of figuring totalling up the money I received since I've been overseas, the amount I had sent home (which you might be interested to know was 45% of total income), and pointing out to you that financially you have lost not a penny by my absence. Two sentences in your letter inspired hot retorts that I hope I will never be foolish enough to repeat. (1) Your implication that thru the past four years I have either not known or failed in my “responsibilities as husband and father.” (2) Your assertion that I have no appreciation of money, and your general attitude that I am not doing as well by you and myself as I might. Well, Chippie,  you can take my word for it I had plenty to say to defend myself on both scores, but however rationally I tried to explain my side of it, and in spite of my best efforts to prevent it, I felt, on re-reading what I had written that there was too much of bitterness and condemnation contained therein to be taken with impunity by you, darling, whom I love so much, and whom I am sworn to keep from hurt. That is why, baby, although my arguments in self-defense were entirely adequate (at least as far as I am concerned), I destroyed the letter. After all, Sweet when you consider the magnitude of the world-shaking events now taking place, it must seem very petty and foolish that we persist in quibbling over something that you only suspect, and I deny. Since I have neither the time nor the inclination to defend myself from your allegations, I consider it both ill-timed and unfair of you to criticize any act of mine. When I come home dear, I’ll give you all the argument you want and more! I just remembered that we once had a spat that resulted in your “going home to mother” (for a few hours). Don’t you consider it as significant, darling, that I can’t recall any inkling of what we had words about? Evie, sweetheart, please try to believe that I’m doing the best I know how in all “departments.” If I fail to come up to your expectations or requirements in any instance, please try to remember that I am, after all, merely human, and therefore subject to mistakes and failings. Good night, my lovely. Love to Adele.

Your Phil

Post #641 - May 1, 2, 1945 I’m Looking Forward to Playing Pinochle with Uncle Nish, the Limeys and Harry Once Again and The End of the War in Europe is Beginning to Drag and I'll Be Mighty Happy When the Official News Comes Through

 

1 May 1945

My own Darling,

I didn’t write again last night. The probability is—I could probably think of some plausible reason for not writing - one that would keep you from hating me a little less - but the plain, unvarnished, shameful truth is - I got into a card game early in the evening (the first time in months and months) (cross my heart) and my luck was very gratifyingly running with me, so I played ’til one in the morning - so there! Seriously, though, honey, and all excuses aside (they somehow never compensate for a missing letter anyhow) it seems that I only get to write every other day (on the average) in spite of my best intentions. Please try to be big about it and understand, will you, Chippie? Lord knows, this matter of letter-writing is my one cause for anxiety these days—it’s the countless ones that I should, but don’t write that worry me.—But I’ve used up too much of the space already, selfishly, trying to justify myself. Let’s talk about something else, shall we, baby? Like your V-mail of 23 April that arrived today, for instance. Was surprised to learn the the Weinsteins did call after all, ’cause Marty showed me the letter saying they would. Guess something prevented. I'll get Marty's address next time I see him and forward it! Didn’t see “Between Two Women” yet, but I expect I'll catch up with it soon. Glad you enjoyed it, Sweet. I’ve remarked your increasing friendship with Sylvia, and I’m glad for that, too. You two certainly have a lot in common. Give her my best next time you see her, and tell her I’m looking forward to meeting her someday (I hope soon). The Browns must think I’m an awful stinker that I don't write to any of them—not even Milt, who is most prolific in his correspondence compared to me. Tell them I think of them often with the utmost affection, and that I’m looking forward to playing pinochle with Uncle Nish, the Limeys and Harry once again. The rest of your letter tells of your latest visit to Dr. Gayl with the punkin. You’ve certainly put up with a lot, Sweet, and I can’t very well blame you for wanting to cut the shots short. You’ve been very patient in this instance—and altogether an angel. Guess that’s why I love you so—angel.

Always,

Your Phil

P.S. A kiss for Adele. My love to all.

May 2, 1945

Dearly Beloved,

Much as I wanted to, I had not the time to get even a v-mail off to you yesterday. I had a very full day at work, and before I got Adele to bed, ironed my clothes and helped my dad fill in an application to obtain a job as an insurance salesman, it was 12:30 and I was half dead. So, I did the only logical thing - I went straight to bed.

The month of May was ushered in by strong winds, driving rain and bitter cold. Today, however, was much nicer, though it is still cold. Monday evening, after I posted your v-mail, Adele woke, vomit for all she was worth and went back to sleep. She slept peacefully the rest of the night and there is no need to tell you how grateful I was for that. There was no mail for me yesterday, but today I received your letter of April 24 and v-mails of April 25 and 26, along with my check. Your letters contained very little to comment about, so I'll just say how sweet they were and give you big hug and kiss for writing so often.

Jack N.'s aunt, Sonya, was in Philadelphia yesterday and called Mom. Jack's letter had given us all the impression that no one knew of his marriage, but we were wrong. They all know and heartily disapprove, although they say it's his life to do with as he sees fit. Sonya said that her parents disapproved strongly, but Marjorie gave them no choice, saying that she would marry Jack regardless of whether or not they accepted him, and they did. Sonya said Marge is tall (taller than Jack), very thin, blondish and very “shicksa" looking, but nevertheless very intelligent. Marge makes $60 per week and hasn't a cent to her name. Jack bought her a lovely wedding band for $80 and they had to honeymoon at Sammy & Ann's because they had no money for a honeymoon. In fact, Sonya said, Sammy had to make a loan of $200 for them so that they could get back to their various Jobs. Sonya also said that Marge's dad is a $7000 a year man, pretty well to do, but she doubted if he would do anything for them. That, dear, is the picture painted by Sonya. Jack and Marge were married on April 13, the same date that Harry and Goldie chose to call their anniversary.

In the meantime we learned that Jennie Zaslow is going to marry her brother-in-law's brother. Dave’s brother is being discharged from the Army and he and Jennie will be married June 10. Jen doesn't want a large wedding and they will have a small affair. So it is that two sisters marry two brothers.

By the way, that coat Mom is wearing in the snapshot you like so well is the one she bought from Mrs. Frommer. We had larger duplicates made and Rae also appeared, so you got gyped. No, I'm not going to Lorstan to have my picture made. When Glo comes this weekend we're going to have family pictures made in the house by the fellow who took that picture of Adele writing on her blackboard. I have yet to find the opportunity to get to Lorstan to have Adele's pictures made. Phil, I'd like to know if you are doing the same work at headquarters and whether the change will effect your status in any way.

First Mussolini and now Hitler, though I'm inclined to doubt the latter. The end of the war in Europe is beginning to drag and I'll be mighty happy when the official news comes through. Do you think, sweet, that you have a chance to get a furlough now (is that what you mean by some of your hints?) No more space, so will close now, baby, with oceans of love.

Your Eve