Post #691 - August 31, 1945 We’ll Never Feel the Same About This and That's All There Is To It!

 

31 August 1945
4:30 P.M.

Darling Evie,

Have a half-hour to kill before quitting time, so I thought I'd avail myself of the opportunity to type this letter to you. The Commanding General talked to us as scheduled this afternoon, but he left us not very much wiser than we were before. The gist of his speech was that the high point men would get home before the low point men (as if we didn't know), and while the bulk of this command would be here a few months yet, we all almost certainly will be home by Xmas. Which, I think, is just about what I had led you to expect - . However, if all goes well, it's just possible that we may all be home sometime in October, or November. As far as yours very lovingly is concerned, there is a good possibility that because my 69 points as of 12 May and soon, I understand, to be increased by 13 more, which will give me a total of 82, and which figure represents the very top bracket (after we get rid of our present 85-pointers, which will be next week, I may get home much sooner than many of the others, but almost certainly not before mid-October. Altogether, then, it means waiting about 8 weeks more. After sweating it out for two years, that shouldn't be too hard to take, but as I pointed out the other day, the time is starting to drag, and 8 weeks seems a very long time indeed. I hope, dearest, that you aren't as impatient for my return as I am, because I'd hate to feel that you are all keyed up over it to the extent that it becomes annoying. The one factor that makes it all bearable is the thought that I'll almost certainly be eligible for discharge from the Army when I hit the States.

Your V-mail of 22 August arrived this afternoon, but aside from one controversial item (what again? Yes again!) it was your usual routine letter. The item I am taking exception to is this: "I'm wondering how I'd work out a 30-day vacation when you are on furlough, but I'm afraid it is almost impossible for me to have the entire thirty days off". That tears it, it really does. Do you for one minute, Chippie, really believe I’d permit you to go to work while I was home on furlough - even if I had to return to camp afterward? Not on your life! The chances are - I'll be a civilian the next time you see me, because I'll probably be separated from the service within 48 hours after I get off the boat, but even if I'm stuck in the Army a few months after I get home, I most certainly expect you to give me all your time when I come in for my furlough - even if it means quitting your job, which I think it's high time you did anyway. But your intention of continuing to work even after I come home is downright preposterous, and you had better make up your mind to do as I ask, 'cause I just won't stand for it any other way. I hope I have made myself sufficiently plain. You can prate all you like about the extra money you could save, that it would be better to continue working until I am earning a "decent income", and all the other arguments you have used on other occasions - the answer is still an unequivocal NO! I'm amazed and disappointed that you put your job before spending my furlough with me. When I said some days ago that your sense of values was all cock-eyed, I knew what I was talking about. But little did I think that you would so quickly offer the proof of my statement! I don't think you'll be foolish enough to persist in your attitude, Sweet, but if you even attempt to, then I must warn you that you needn't count on me for anything at all. If you don't consider that I'm entitled to a wife (in the fullest sense of the word) after more than two years away from her, I do! What's more, I mean to have her or else! I'll leave the "or else" to your own conscience and imagination. Further, I'm not at all flattered that you could even consider the course you have seemed to take for granted, much less advocating it! God, Chippie, will your eagerness for money and material benefits always blind you to the other important things in life? Or is nothing else important without it? Oh, Hell, what's the use, we’ll never feel the same about this and that's all there is to it! I'm too upset about this to write rationally any more, so I'll say what I have always said and meant and what I will say and mean as long as you let me - I love you. My dearest love to Adele. Love to all from

Your Phil

Post #690 - August 27, 1945 I Signed My Discharge This Evening

 

Wednesday, Aug. 27, [1945]

8 P.M.

My Sweet,

This letter is destined to make you very, very happy, For in it you will learn that I signed my discharge this evening. I was called into the Orderly Room about 6 P.M. and told to sign the precious paper. That, my dear, is what I call a "labor of love." All that remains now is for it to be signed up at Division H.Q. where it is being sent tonite. I anticipate no drawback from that source, and I should be a completely happy man very shortly. Maybe within two weeks. How do you like those apples, Baby? I'm writing with Sam's pen and it’s no damn good. But nothing phases me now, and I'll write if I have to squeeze the ink out. Glad to hear you are all well even if money is scarce. That can be remedied - and will be. I just got paid $16.00. They took $2.00 off for laundry and $3.00 for the few days remaining in August, which we'll get next pay. I'm sending $14 with Sam. You'll probably get it before you read this. Pay Mom what you owe her and buy yourself a new car with the rest. Seriously though, honey, I'm sorry it couldn't be more - but I really couldn't spare any more. After I paid a few petty debts which amounted to 60¢ I only have $1.50 left. I'll stretch it as far as I can, hoping I run out of here before I run out of money. Sorry to hear Yale got such a rotten break, but I rather expected something of the sort. We Strongins aren't any too lucky. The weather here is wonderful. Sunny, cool, and breezy - an  ideal combination. The work today wasn't too hard, either. Outside of the preceding, I have no news to divulge, so I'll  just say good night ’til tomorrow. My love to all, of course. And to you, my lovely, pleasant dreams - and may I be included in them, for I love you dearly.

Your constant beau-friend
Phil

P.S. This was my last stamp.

Post #689 - August 9, 1945 We've Been Cheered No End By the Great News of the Atom Bomb

 

9 August 1945

My Darling,

I'm terribly sorry, honey, that this will have to be a "shortie” after not writing since the 6th, but I really couldn't help myself as I've been working steadily for the past three days from 8:30 A.M. to 10:30 and 11:00 P.M., with hardly a break except for eating. It is 11 o'clock now, and I'm dead beat, but I just had to drop you a few lines before hitting the hay today. The reason we're so busy in the Orderly Room is that we're transferring our men out of the Sqdn., sending home those men with over 85 points, and transferring in men with over 85 points, who are scheduled to go home shortly for discharge. Most of the fellows of the old outfit have shipped out either direct to the Pacific Theater, or to Germany for AFO. (I'm still burning at the rotten deal our boys got). As the situation stands now, Chippie, I'll be coming home in six or eight weeks - IF they don't ship me to Germany in the meantime. They won't send me to the Pacific - of that I'm almost positive. I hate to put you on tenter-hooks this way, Sweet, realizing that I have led you to believe that I am certainly coming home soon, but I thought I ought to tell you about these latest developments to prepare you for any eventuality. We've been cheered no end by the great news of the atom bomb (and somewhat frightened, too, that it might get into the wrong hands), and Russia's declaration of war against the dirty japs. In the meantime, yours very lovingly is immersed in a veritable sea of paper-work, and the end is not yet in sight! I have four of your letters (29, 30, 31, 1) to answer yet, but I'm afraid it will have to wail for tomorrow. I hope to be able to write at length then.

Keep the ole chin up a while longer yet, baby, and never forget that I love you above all. Here's a sweet good-night kiss for you, another for my punkin for keeping daddy's place next to you occupied ’til I come home, and love to all.

Always,
Your Phil

Post #688 - August 2, 1945 I am Writing This Just a Few Days Short of Two Years Since We Last Saw Each Other

 

2 August 1945

Darling Wife,

When you note the date above you will probably be thinking what I am thinking now —that I am writing this just a few days short of two years since we last saw each other. It has been intolerably long, Sweet, but I can almost feel cheerful about it all because I know it will only be a comparatively short time 'til we meet again—and what a reunion that will be!! Though we have been apart from each other these two years, darling, it hasn't been like that at all. You have lived in my heart and thoughts every instant of all that time, believe me—

Your V-mail of 25 July, arrived today, expresses the wish that I might give you more definite information as to my date of arrival in the good ole States. Sorry, honey, but I know no more now than I did on the 31 July, when I told you that the "dope" says sometime in October. You say something about wanting to meet the boat. I agree with you, Chippie, that it would be next to impossible for us to find each other in the mob (even if I could let you know when and where we'll disembark, which I won't be able to do), but, if the idea appeals to you, I could call you from New York as soon as we get in, and you could join me there as soon as I would be free to meet you. We could have that week together in “1777" before going home, although I do think I'd be sorely tempted to take the first train to Philly to get to my punkin. I know you've thought about it, darling; suppose you tell me how your would prefer my homecoming to be—

Yesterday was busy one for me. In the evening, I played poker, as is my custom the day after pay-day. However, this time I was plain unlucky, and barely managed to get out with my shirt. For a while there it looked very much like I'd lose that, too. Just before the game broke up, though, I took a few pots, which leaves me a few pounds to go on pass with tomorrow, Sorry I couldn't win, honey, 'cause I wanted

very much to send you some money this month. Besides, I wanted to send something along for Mom, as I feel I've been neglecting her. Don’t think for a minute, Chippie, that I might have done so, had I not played cards, 'cause I only lost four pounds ($16.00), which wasn't enough, but which might have made me enough -fershtay? [understand?] Out of the £12 which was my pay, I had to leave myself at least £8, because I've ordered a wrist-watch from the PX, which will cost about £7-10 ($30.00), but which retails for about ($70.00). Ordinarily, I wouldn't think of buying a wrist-watch at this time (especially since the one your Mom gave me is still

keeping perfect time), but the PX gets them for us at little more than cost, so I figured I’d be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.

Klein left on furlough, I've seen the picture at the station theater, and things are pretty quiet around here this evening. I'll turn in early tonight.

Also received Dot's letter of 24 July today. As usual, it is written in her usual manner—friendly and affectionate, and, as usual, there was a warm glow inside me when I finished. I did mean to answer her tonight, but this has taken me longer than I thought it would, so it looks like she'll have to wait 'til I get back from London. I'm going there tomorrow afternoon, Sweet, for 3 days, during which time I'll probably amuse myself as I have been wont to do—at the movies, concerts, etc. I had intended to go up to Yorkshire, but I have no stomach for the long and wearisome trip - maybe next time. Incidentally, baby, I hope you have written to the Davieses by now. Certainly you know what to say to them - you did so very nicely the other times. 

Just room enough to send along hugs and kisses to our punkin, my dearest love to you, my darling, and love to all.

Ever,
Your Phil

Post #687 - July 31, 1945 I Think of Hardly Anything Anymore But How It Will Be to Hold You in My Arms Once Again

 

31 July 1945

My Darling,

Today, pay-day, was a busy one for me. Near the end of it, tho’, I was rewarded for my industry by your nice, long letter of 23, 24 July. It was, except for its more tender interludes, a “routine" letter. However, I was surprised to learn that Eddie is “acting up" on occasion. I can't believe that his occasional fits of bad temper have any foundation in his experiences overseas, as you imply, tho’! Rather, I'm inclined to think he's being his natural, normal self, which, if I remember correctly, was ever high-strung and nervous. 

Yesterday, Klein and I and Sinneway had another session down at the gym. I beat Klein two games, and Sinneway one. Then Sinneway tried to show me how to punch a light bag, but it's tricky, and will take a lot of practise. Then we had a “go" at badminton, which I had never played before, and which will also take a lot of learning. Then we come back to barracks, where I played with the idea of writing to you, but finally decided to hit the hay ’cause I was over-tired. Before turning in I showered, and made up my laundry to send in today.

The weather threatened rain all day, but except for a few drops of rain it merely threatened. After work, Klein and I went to the gym. I was still tired from yesterday, but Klein was insistent, so I went along more to oblige him than because I felt like playing. Klein, the young squirt, has enough energy for three men, but that wasn't enough, ’cause I beat him again in a grueling game that went to 21-18, The sonovagun made shots I thought he couldn't touch and ran me ragged, but my greater experience told in the end.

The one game left me almost exhausted, so we rode to the Snack Bar for a bite to eat and a coupla cakes, and then back to barracks, where, we both lay down for a nap. Tired as I was tho’, I couldn't sleep. It may have been the thought that I was due to write today that was bothering me. At any rate, after tossing about for a half-hour, I decided it was no go, so I got up and commenced this.

—Which brings me right up to the minute. And right at this particular minute I'm missing you acutely, darling. While I'm in no particular hurry to get back to the States (for reasons which I explained in my last) I am most dreadfully impatient to come home to you - torn between two fires - as it were— Baby, I'm finding it very difficult to curb my impatience these days. I think of hardly anything anymore but how it will be to hold you in my arms once again. My need for you is acute beyond description, honey. You wouldn't believe how unimportant life is to me without you. I just can't get interested for long in anything!

But I’m knocking my head against a stone wall again, so I’ll save you the distressing spectacle by signing off right here and now. I adore you, my Evie—Love and kisses to our punkin. Love to all.

Constantly—
Your Phil

Post #686 - July 29, 1945 We’re Generally Considered a “Dead" Outfit

 

29 July 1945

My Darling,

Your V-mail of 22 Jul arrived today together with a long letter from brother Jack. He sent along a snap-shot, which however, is so small that it is impossible to tell how he looks. He says, tho’, that he's putting on weight. He says, too, among other things, that he gets very little mail from the family (what should I say?), but that Gloria writes almost daily. About the only thing in your V-mail that calls forth any comment is the information that our offspring takes after her old man in that she just loves hot dogs and baked beans. Very interesting! I wonder in what other traits she is "my" daughter aside from physical characteristics—

My condolences to Ruth on her uneventful 16th birthday. Tell her we'll make it up to her on her next, if it's any way possible.

Nothing much doing at this end these days. We're losing men in bunches, our planes have been shipped, except for a handful, which we're using for training some pilots, and we’re generally considered a “dead" outfit. We are, incidentally, among the last of the Air Corps Fighter Groups to leave the ETO, which, strange as it may sound, suits me right down to the ground! Why? Well, last home - last to the Pacific, and if we can hold on here a few months I'll lay odds we'll never see the Pacific! Get it? The rumor now is that we'll be here 'til mid-October, which just goes to show you how much about anything anyone knows for sure around here.

Just got back from the movies, where I saw "A Medal for Benny”. This was taken from Steinbeck's novel (at least he wrote it), and both plot and locale were interesting and entertaining. The acting, tho’, is the most striking feature of the picture. J. Carrol Naish is superb as Benny's old father, Arturo de Cordova is very good-looking, and a charming and capable actor. I look for him to get some nice, juicy parts from here on in. Dottie Lamour is appealing as the love interest, and also contributes a proficient performance. On the whole - a good picture,

You've been hesitating lately about sending out any packages, Sweet. Well, honey, my homecoming is not so imminent that I wouldn't receive them, but I was thinking that you might hold onto what candy you accumulated (if it will keep for about 8 or 9 weeks), and we'll enjoy it at home - all of us.

Can't think of another solitary thing to write at the moment, Sweet - except, I love you more and more. By the time I do get home, I'm liable to go off like a firecracker at the mere sight of you, Baby, I miss you so—My best love to Adele. Love to all from

Your adoring Phil

Post #685 - July 27, 1945 Surely, There Must be Plenty of Other Places that Would be Glad to Have You Under the Same Conditions

 

27 July 1945

Dearest Darling,

Today brought your V-mail of 19 Jul, which means that Air Mail (your letter of 20 Jul arrived yesterday) is moving faster than V-mail. There wasn't anything startling in this V-mail. It confirmed my supposition that Mom came in from Brown's Mills on that day. I'm glad she's enjoying herself and feeling good. Too bad, honey, that you couldn’t get away someplace for a vacation. Your Mr. Bellet must be a stinker of the first water to pull some of the stunts he does. I don't understand why you continue to work for him. Surely, there must be plenty of other places that would be glad to have you under the same conditions, and you might be treated decently in the bargain.

You say something about holding on to "Mike" until the fall. If you have any intention of submitting it, Chippie, I say do it now, because it is a timely theme, whose significance may be dissipated in a few more months, and you wouldn't have even a slim chance of selling it then. You haven't said anything about "ETOUSA Interlude". I would like to have the editors of Esquire take a look at it, even if nothing comes of it. Personally, I think more of it as a hunk of writing than I do about" "Mike", although I must confess I don't think a great deal about either one.

My activities both yesterday and today were purely routine, so I'm almost at a complete loss for something of interest to tell you. Besides, I've been troubled by a persistent and annoying headache all day, and am anxious to sleep it off. Please excuse the brevity of this, honey. My everlasting love to you, sweetheart; to my own sweet punkin, and to all my dear ones.

Devotedly,
Your Phil