8 July 1944
My Darling Eve,
Tonight is the first night I am spending in camp since the 5th. I went on pass on the evening of the 6th, and returned midnight yesterday. Your letter of the 25th June came on the 5th, just before I took off, and three more letters arrived this afternoon. They are those of the 26th and 27th and your V-mail of 30 June. There was also a most welcome letter from the Limey. Your information about his being in on the invasion and coming back to England tallies with what he tells me in his short letter. He wants me to arrange a meeting. I don’t have to tell you how eager I am to do so, Sweet, but you'd be surprised at the difficulties you run into in trying to do so. However, I shall do my best to arrange it.
Before I proceed to answer your letters, darling, (and I may not get around to that tonight), I want to tell you how to spent my pass.
Before I proceed to answer your letters, darling, (and I may not get around to that tonight), I want to tell you how to spent my pass.
I went into town with Sgt. Hazleton and another Sgt., the three of us chipping in for the cab. It was a beautiful, cool, sunny evening, and the ride thru the country side was a treat in itself. We arrived at 6 o'clock, and had an hour to kill before we could get supper, so we adjourned to a convenient pub. That is, Sgt. Hazleton and I—the other fellow had to catch a train, and we had dropped him at the station. The Sgt., and I are old friends, having had quite a bit of business with each other for the past eleven months. He works in the Finance Dept. So, between a nice congenial conversation, and a whiskey and four ales apiece, we managed to do away with that hour very pleasantly. It was just 7:05 when we strolled across High Street to the Cups Hotel. There, in a large, second-floor dining room, we were seated at table with two other G.I.'s, and served a most delicious meal: Crème Julienne (a creamy, spicy soup), lobster salad, coffee, and compote for dessert. This was the first time I had ever tasted lobster, and I found it delicious. The compote was stewed strawberries and currants in a thick vanilla sauce, and it was every bit as good as it sounds. Hazleton had a date to take his girl to a dance, and asked if I’d care to go. I told him I wanted to visit some friends, but that I might stop up later in the evening. Accordingly he went off to his girlfriend's place, and I called Bert’s place to find out if he were at home. He was; and when he told me to come over, I snared a cab and went. Evelyn is still abed. She is feeling and looking fine, now, but her legs have failed her. She can't move a step away from the bed. The doctor says she probably strained the muscles in her legs, but that she'll be O.K. in a coupla weeks.
I gleaned a few statistics during the course of my visit. They were married in June, ’41. Bert is 28 years old, and Evelyn is 23. My impression had been that they were somewhat older. Evelyn is much prettier than I at first thought. Her face was red and somewhat bloated when I first saw her, but she is really nice looking, as I'm just beginning to realize, Rita showed me a bathing-suit picture of her taken before she became pregnant, and I was surprised to see that she wasn't the “fatty” I supposed her. Looking at the picture, I was reminded of Anne Furr. She is built just like her. Bert is the typical proud papa. In spite of his artificial indifference to the “bugger", one can see with half an eye that he's crazy about the kid. Nigel Keith is a good-looking boy (they tell me—I don't know), and is thriving on a half-and-half diet of mother's milk and a cow-milk, sugar and water mixture. Some of the things they do don't look right to me. The diet is only one. They still use the old-fashioned three-corner, one pin method of diapering, and ridiculed the four-comer, two-pin style that a friend showed them, and that we used on the punkin. They are trying to get some pyrex-glass bottles, but they are unobtainable. I was wondering if you have any that you could possibly spare, Chippie. I know they would be grateful for them. Please send them along as soon possible if you can get them, Sweet. If you have none, but can buy them—do so. They have treated me as one of the family, and I'd like to repay their kindness anyway I can.
Evelyn was full of questions about you and Adele, I showed her some of the snap-shots, and she complimented them highly. Bert took a good look this time, and this time made the appropriate remarks. Altogether, it was a very pleasant evening. I took my leave about 10:30, not wishing to keep them up past their accustomed bed time. Almost forgot to mention that Bert's mother came up from London to stay with them. Her purpose was two-fold. She helps with the baby and the house work, and she is out of range of the flying bombs, which she says gave them a very bad time of it.
I gleaned a few statistics during the course of my visit. They were married in June, ’41. Bert is 28 years old, and Evelyn is 23. My impression had been that they were somewhat older. Evelyn is much prettier than I at first thought. Her face was red and somewhat bloated when I first saw her, but she is really nice looking, as I'm just beginning to realize, Rita showed me a bathing-suit picture of her taken before she became pregnant, and I was surprised to see that she wasn't the “fatty” I supposed her. Looking at the picture, I was reminded of Anne Furr. She is built just like her. Bert is the typical proud papa. In spite of his artificial indifference to the “bugger", one can see with half an eye that he's crazy about the kid. Nigel Keith is a good-looking boy (they tell me—I don't know), and is thriving on a half-and-half diet of mother's milk and a cow-milk, sugar and water mixture. Some of the things they do don't look right to me. The diet is only one. They still use the old-fashioned three-corner, one pin method of diapering, and ridiculed the four-comer, two-pin style that a friend showed them, and that we used on the punkin. They are trying to get some pyrex-glass bottles, but they are unobtainable. I was wondering if you have any that you could possibly spare, Chippie. I know they would be grateful for them. Please send them along as soon possible if you can get them, Sweet. If you have none, but can buy them—do so. They have treated me as one of the family, and I'd like to repay their kindness anyway I can.
Evelyn was full of questions about you and Adele, I showed her some of the snap-shots, and she complimented them highly. Bert took a good look this time, and this time made the appropriate remarks. Altogether, it was a very pleasant evening. I took my leave about 10:30, not wishing to keep them up past their accustomed bed time. Almost forgot to mention that Bert's mother came up from London to stay with them. Her purpose was two-fold. She helps with the baby and the house work, and she is out of range of the flying bombs, which she says gave them a very bad time of it.
censored
Don't you worry on my account though, Sweet, ’cause I have no intention of going to London. Nor will I while the danger persists.
Where was I? Oh yes, I was just leaving the Woolfs (note spelling). Although it was 10:30, the sun was still high, and I wasn't the least bit sleepy. I decided to go to the dance. It was a big affair. A benefit for "Salute the Soldier Week.” An English orchestra provided dance music of the old two-step variety, and while this was going on the dancers were hardly worth the watching. But a little later they gave out with a few British folk dances, and it was like nothing I ever saw before. These I enjoyed very much. There were as many civilians as service-men at the dance, which was unusual. The men were from 16 to about 50, and the girls 13 to 60. It wasn't uncommon to see a youngster of 16 or 17 waltzing with a woman in her thirties or forties—and vice versa. Watching the dancers, I was host to a variety of thoughts and emotions. I was sorry for, yet disgusted with the slovenliness of the girls. I know full well how difficult it is for them to get proper clothes and cosmetics, but it seemed to me they could have made a better appearance in spite of their handicaps. The great majority of them, though, couldn't be attractive under the best of circumstances. The plain ones didn't give a damn about their clothes and make up, and those that fancied themselves pretty painted themselves and conducted themselves like so many harlots. Altogether, a pretty weird-looking gathering. Still, I found it all rather interesting, and I did enjoy watching the dances native to this part of the country. In fact, so absorbed was I in anything and everything that the night sped by unnoticed. I left only when the dance was over. Forgot to say that I met Hazleton and his girl there. She was, far and away, the best-looking of the lot, in a quiet, home girl sort of way—you know what I mean. I taxied back then (1 A.M.) to the Red Cross Club and went to bed.
The morning was gray and drizzling, but I was feeling well and rested, and rose early (8 o’clock). After a breakfast of eggs-on-toast and coffee in a small cafe, I bought three newspapers, and headed back to the club to loaf and catch up on the news. I had hardly settled myself, when the Red Cross hostess come over to ask if I cared to join the party that was about to set out for the castle on a sight-seeing trip. I was just in the mood for that sort of thing, and promptly rose and joined them. There were five others in the party. The castle is about five minutes’ walk from the club. I could write reams about the things I learned about it, but you'll have to be content with the essentials for the time being. Originally, the place was the site of the first temple erected by the Romans in England. Later, a certain English Queen (I don't know her name) drove the Romans out and, destroyed the temple. The foundations, 15 ft. thick, though, were beyond their capacity to destroy. The English then (1042 A.D.) erected the castle on the foundations. It is a massive thing made entirely of stones and one marvels at the patience, and back-breaking labor, and engineering knowledge that is innate in the structure. Up to a few centuries ago, the castle has had a bloody and interesting history, and I wish I could remember it all. A very congenial old fellow showed us around and told us the history of the castle and the town of Colchester, which is built entirely on the original site of the first Roman colony in England. It is an interesting fact that during the blitz, every bomb that fell in or near the town unearthed some relic of antiquity So you can imagine what lies underneath the rather drab modern (?) town of Colchester.
We spent a very intriguing two hours in the castle, and I wasn’t a bit sorry I had come. Here again, Chippie, I wished you were along. It happens every time I see something interesting or good to look upon, or listen to. I think maybe I love you, huh?
On the way back to the club, whom should I run into but Red! He was in town on a pass, but was heading back to camp to keep a date he had that evening. We gabbed a while until he caught his bus, and I went back to the Cups Hotel for lunch. It was too early, and I had about three-quarters of an hour to wait, so I parked myself in a nice, comfortable chair in the lobby and proceeded to read the newspapers I had bought earlier. The Russians still seem to be making good headway, and as this writing, are on the approaches to Baranovici. That is where my father's sister and her family live.
When 1 o'clock rolled around, I went upstairs to the dining room and lunched on a plate of tongue, ham, lettuce, scallions, etc. For dessert—rhubarb pie and coffee.
Then I went to the movies. At the “Headgate,” I saw "True to Life” with Dick Powell, Mary Martin, Franchot Tone, and Victor Moore.
It was a comedy with a few songs thrown in. I liked it. The other half of the double feature was "Saludos Amigos,” Walt Disney's pan-American good-will film. This was also highly entertaining. I especially liked the latin-American rhythms of the incidental music. After that I went across the street to the “Playhouse” to see “Desert Song,” and enjoyed it very much. I don't think Irene Manning will go very far. She has little allure, and a too-thin soprano voice. Her costumes were lovely, however, and showed her off to the best advantage. Dennis King is very good-looking and is possessed of a commendable, if not remarkable, singing voice. The charm of the picture, though, lay almost entirely in its sheer beauty of locale, costumes and photography,
After the cinemas, I went to the Woolfs’ again. Evelyn was feeling much better, and was all prettied up. I hung around for a few hours, ate supper with Bert and Rita-(mushrooms with egg and spring onion omelet, tea, cake, etc.), and headed back to camp about 11 o'clock. That was “my pass", and I can truthfully say that I had a good time.
Well, baby mine, I consider I have said enough for today. It is late, and I'm tired and sleepy. I have a big day coming up tomorrow, but I'll try to answer your last three letters in the evening. Hasta manana then, sweet Chippie. You know I adore you. If the punkin doesn't know yet that I feel pretty much the same way about her, she will someday. Until then, I remain
Your devoted
Phil
The morning was gray and drizzling, but I was feeling well and rested, and rose early (8 o’clock). After a breakfast of eggs-on-toast and coffee in a small cafe, I bought three newspapers, and headed back to the club to loaf and catch up on the news. I had hardly settled myself, when the Red Cross hostess come over to ask if I cared to join the party that was about to set out for the castle on a sight-seeing trip. I was just in the mood for that sort of thing, and promptly rose and joined them. There were five others in the party. The castle is about five minutes’ walk from the club. I could write reams about the things I learned about it, but you'll have to be content with the essentials for the time being. Originally, the place was the site of the first temple erected by the Romans in England. Later, a certain English Queen (I don't know her name) drove the Romans out and, destroyed the temple. The foundations, 15 ft. thick, though, were beyond their capacity to destroy. The English then (1042 A.D.) erected the castle on the foundations. It is a massive thing made entirely of stones and one marvels at the patience, and back-breaking labor, and engineering knowledge that is innate in the structure. Up to a few centuries ago, the castle has had a bloody and interesting history, and I wish I could remember it all. A very congenial old fellow showed us around and told us the history of the castle and the town of Colchester, which is built entirely on the original site of the first Roman colony in England. It is an interesting fact that during the blitz, every bomb that fell in or near the town unearthed some relic of antiquity So you can imagine what lies underneath the rather drab modern (?) town of Colchester.
We spent a very intriguing two hours in the castle, and I wasn’t a bit sorry I had come. Here again, Chippie, I wished you were along. It happens every time I see something interesting or good to look upon, or listen to. I think maybe I love you, huh?
On the way back to the club, whom should I run into but Red! He was in town on a pass, but was heading back to camp to keep a date he had that evening. We gabbed a while until he caught his bus, and I went back to the Cups Hotel for lunch. It was too early, and I had about three-quarters of an hour to wait, so I parked myself in a nice, comfortable chair in the lobby and proceeded to read the newspapers I had bought earlier. The Russians still seem to be making good headway, and as this writing, are on the approaches to Baranovici. That is where my father's sister and her family live.
When 1 o'clock rolled around, I went upstairs to the dining room and lunched on a plate of tongue, ham, lettuce, scallions, etc. For dessert—rhubarb pie and coffee.
Then I went to the movies. At the “Headgate,” I saw "True to Life” with Dick Powell, Mary Martin, Franchot Tone, and Victor Moore.
It was a comedy with a few songs thrown in. I liked it. The other half of the double feature was "Saludos Amigos,” Walt Disney's pan-American good-will film. This was also highly entertaining. I especially liked the latin-American rhythms of the incidental music. After that I went across the street to the “Playhouse” to see “Desert Song,” and enjoyed it very much. I don't think Irene Manning will go very far. She has little allure, and a too-thin soprano voice. Her costumes were lovely, however, and showed her off to the best advantage. Dennis King is very good-looking and is possessed of a commendable, if not remarkable, singing voice. The charm of the picture, though, lay almost entirely in its sheer beauty of locale, costumes and photography,
After the cinemas, I went to the Woolfs’ again. Evelyn was feeling much better, and was all prettied up. I hung around for a few hours, ate supper with Bert and Rita-(mushrooms with egg and spring onion omelet, tea, cake, etc.), and headed back to camp about 11 o'clock. That was “my pass", and I can truthfully say that I had a good time.
Well, baby mine, I consider I have said enough for today. It is late, and I'm tired and sleepy. I have a big day coming up tomorrow, but I'll try to answer your last three letters in the evening. Hasta manana then, sweet Chippie. You know I adore you. If the punkin doesn't know yet that I feel pretty much the same way about her, she will someday. Until then, I remain
Your devoted
Phil
P.S. My love to all.
CPL. MAX BROWN (333412251
8 July 1944
HOWDY PHIL:
RECEIVED YOUR ADDRESS FROM SYD AND I DON'T KNOW IF I'M USING YOUR RIGHT RANK OR NOT BUT I HOPE YOU GET THIS LETTER. I HOPE THIS LETTER FINDS YOU IN THE BEST OF HEALTH AND SPIRITS. I'M FEELING FINE AND IN THE BEST OF HEALTH AND SPIRITS. WELL I WROTE YOUR C.O. A LETTER TO TRY AND GET IN TOUCH WITH YOU. IF I SUCCEDD I'LL BE SEEING YOU IN AROUND A WEEK OR SO.
WELL IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE GOOD NEWS BY NOW I'LL TELL YOU. MY WIFE IS GOING TO HAVE A BABY. THAT IS WHAT WE BOTH WANTED WHEN I WAS READY TO LEAVE THE STATES. IT TOOK US QUITE A LONG WHILE TO MAKE OUR MIND UP BUT WE DID. WELL HOW DO YOU LIKE ENGLAND? I HAD QUITE SOME EXPERIENCES HERE. THIS BEER HERE IS WARM AND TERRIBLE AND BY NOW I SHOULD OF AQUIRED A TASTE FOR IT AND I DID. I CAN DRINK IT LIKE WATER. THERE ISN'T MUCH SCOTCH HERE AND WHEN WE GET A CHANCE WE BUY IT FOR WHATEVER IT COST. WHEN THEY HAVE IT IN THE PUBS IT COSTS US 1₤ AND 6 A SHOT AND THAT IS LIKE 30CENTS IN AMERICAN MONEY AND IS PLENTY CHEAP. I WAS SURPRISED TO SEE HOW THE KIDS AND THE GIRLS LIVE HERE. IT IS AN EXPERIENCE AND IF THE GIRLS IN THE STATES WERE HERE THEN THEY WOULD NOT KICK LIKE THEY ARE DOING HOME. SOMEOF THESE GIRLS HERE ARE NO GOOD AND THEY FLOCK AROUND OUR BILLIARDS LIKE THEY ARE WAITING FOR SOMETHING. THEY ARE IN A WAY AND THESE FELLOWS IN OUR CO. TAKE GOOD CARE OF THEM. WELL THERE ISN'T MUCH MORE TO SAY SO I'LL CLOSE WITH LOTS OF LUCK AND HOPING FOR A QUICK VICTORY SO WE CAN ALL GET HOME WHERE WE BELONG. WRITE ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
LOVE,
MICKEY
