I intend to post almost daily, and in roughly chronological order, the thousands of pages of daily love letters that my parents sent to each other during WWII and any other documents that pertain to these letters..
The two letters I received yesterday were dated May 7 and May 11. The content of the latter made me very dejected. I had not built any daydreams on your coming home, but neither had I expected to be as it is. I dislike, intensely, the fact that you were transferred to the Air Corps. I never did care for the Air Corps that much anyway, as you know from past experience. In spite of your pleas to be of good heart, I can only say that I feel very bitterly about the whole rotten business. I get a heavy sickening feeling every time I think that it may be "years" before we can get back to any semblance of a decent normal life. I get so terribly disgusted and disillusioned -
The six day week is a break for you - but it's about time something broke our way. Jack N. will certainly be glad to hear from you (and what do you mean by take a cue from you). I've been writing to Jack regularly I'll have you know, else how would I be able to inform you of his doings.
I understood that the point system was based on all happenings previous to May 18, 1945. Is this true? I've heard divided opinions on the subject and would like to know definitely. The Army itself is confused and it will probably be some time before they themselves know what it's all about. All we can or have to do is sit tight and wait for them to come to. I feel that you should be given credit for the year in the Enlisted Reserve, especially since the Army saw fit to allow you a hash mark and longevity pay. That, in itself, constitutes recognition of the length of service. However, it seems that the Army isn't always fair to those who most deserve consideration. I also feel that your age is an important factor, especially since it is such a governing factor in the draft. But who am I to feel!
Got to bed a little earlier last night. I lowered the hem on the greenish colored dress I bought last week because it was just a little too short and ironed a few pieces. Adele has enough dresses, but their either too short or too long. I'm always puttin' 'em up or takin’ ’em down.
Called Dot first thing this morning, as today is her fourth anniversary and I forgot to send her a card. By the way, was surprised that you sent something to my Dad for Father's Day. I've thought and thought and thought about what to send you for the same occasion and somehow I always draw a blank. I know you could always use a package of food, but I want to get you something personal. Perhaps you could suggest something - but if you came home - well -
Goldie is leaving for Poughkeepsie next weekend. She will train to New York and her Dad will meet her there with his car and take her the rest of the way. Her dad is hiring a crib, carriage, etc. and all the necessities, so that it will not be necessary for her to ship any of her belongings. Mom will definitely accompany her, only to New York. Well, sweet, haven't much more room, so will close with the old, but always new "I adore you, sweet" -
I was surprised, upon arriving home from work, to find your check for $55. It seems to me that it came through very promptly. On second thought It is almost three weeks since you sent it, so it isn't so prompt after all.
Gloria sent Mom a money order of $10 and a lovely Mother's Day card. There was no other mail.
Rae was over for dinner and we had a delicious meal, one that I did full justice to. Boy do I have an appetite these days! No matter how much I eat or how hard I try I can't seem to put on that much desired weight. We had schav, chopped herring, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, olives, blintzes, pudding and delicious fresh rye bread with butter. I forgot to mention the baked potatoes. I had a very generous helping of each item mentioned and left the table feeling very full indeed.
I accomplished a good deal before the evening was out. I ironed a few pieces, washed a bit, washed Adele's hair and my own and set both, bathed Adele and showered myself. I was kind of tired when I came down and decided to relax and read the newspaper and knit a while. After I had knitted about 3/4 of an hour I discovered I had made a terrible mistake and had to rip back. BOY was I mad! It seems no matter how hard I try I can't finish that sweater. I'm working on the second half of the front, just above the armhole. There's very little to do on it and once I've completed the sleeves I'll sigh a sigh of relief.
While in the shower, Dot called. I told Goldie to tell her I would call when I came out. So it was that I learned she had received your v-mail of May 12th. Considering that I had mail up to the 9th, that was darn good time! However, Mom called me early this morning to tell me that there are two air-mail letters waiting for me, and they must have been written on the 10th and 11th. Can't wait till I get home to read them! Dot was very pleased with the fact that you finally got around to writing to her. She sent your love, as requested by you (thanks so much, honey) and said you had a 50-50 chance of coming home. Dot also told me that she read in some newspaper that the Army was going to reduce its point system sometime in July - but I think that's just so much talk. I won't mind, though. Did I tell you that the ouija board was right? When I was out to Dot's sometime last winter we played with the ouija board and it said that the war would end in April, 1945 and that you would come home in November, '45. You'd be just in time for Adele's third birthday and nothing would suit me more. But I wouldn't mind if’n you kinda rushed it up a bit, cause I’m mighty anxious to see you, baby. I wanted to get this off today, so I’ll answer your letters tomorrow. I deposited the check along with the one from S&D that arrived a few days ago, and want to again thank you for sending it along. I Love You, Phil.
It may seem strange, but I find it more difficult to write when there is no mail than I ever did before. Just because I'm looking forward to your letters, there are none.
Harry Weinman came in on a 24 hour pass and spent the evening at the house. Mickey came along with him. It was kind of late when I got to bed and just my luck - Adele awoke unusually early.
Ruth took Adele to her girlfriend's house and gave me ample time to eat my dinner, iron most of my clothes and prepare Adele's bath. Adele had napped during the afternoon and just wouldn't go to sleep. It was after ten before she even showed signs of falling asleep. I have a little saying when it is time for her to go to sleep. I tell her that she must go upstairs, get undressed and lay down in her crib, because the sandman is coming to put sleep in her eyes. She'll generally think of a dozen excuses for her not having to go to bed and sometimes she gets me very exasperated. When she sees me getting a little angry, she says, "I'd better sit down (or whatever the case may be) or my mommy will give me a yickin'". She says "yiddle" for"little" and though I've tried many times to correct her k's and l's she continues to use t's and y's. I hope you get to hear her talk the way she does now for she is so very cute that I almost hate to think of her changing.
I showed Harry the family picture I just sent to you and Adele pointed out everyone on the picture. When she came to herself, she said, "I yook stunning on that picture!" Harry told me you look well and I couldn't help saying it's a fine state of affairs when I have to ask someone else how my hubby looks. I sure would like to "see" for myself.'
Clara Wagman called on Sunday and asked me to forward her regards She spoke to Harold Adams and he also asked to be remembered to you. He had an operation recently.
I've had very little work to do these past two days at Bellet's and have been taking it as easy as possible. If I weren't able to type my last few letters at work I doubt if I could have found the time at home. The parlor set covers were returned yesterday and we each chipped in $1.50 to pay for them. I have to clean the set, buy camphor and put the covers on first chance I get. Considering how dirty the covers were they cleaned very nicely.
Mom may go to New York with Goldie, when Goldie is enroute to Poughkeepsie. She wants to spend some time in New York with the many relatives. We got to talking last night and said how funny it would be if you were to come home when they all left. I told them I'd like it fine if I could have you to myself for just a little while before the gang got hold of you.
We're certainly presumptious, aren't we? Only dreamin', honey. Got to have something to go on. Adele says "Daddy Philip is a dood boy". She's going to give you a hug and kiss when you come home. I'm almost positive she’ll know you. She's going to be a wee bit coy at first, but when she warms up she'll floor you. Sort of reminds me of the treatment you're going to get from
I didn't get the opportunity to write yesterday. It was one of those days when everything is off schedule and you get all mixed up. In the morning I was up before seven and by 9:30 Adele and I were out in the sunshine! I stopped in to see the Feldmans and then went to see Fay. From there I went to 11th Street to do some shopping and brought her back for lunch. When I had undressed her and gotten her into her crib, Harry came over with Al and Paul and naturally, he wanted to see the kids. This only succeeded in getting both kids excited and neither could fall asleep. Harry only stayed a little while and I promised him I would come over to the house with Adele, after her nap. Harry looks fine. He left France on May 4th and said the trip back was really something. He gave me a bottle of Evening in Paris perfume to give to Ruthie.
Al told me a cute joke and told me to send it along to you. Did you hear about the fellow who had 84 points and the army released him? They did! Yeh, his head came to a point! (P.S. That's supposed to be funny!) Trouble is, it isn't. Imagine being in such a predicament!
I had my lunch when they left, showered and proceeded to dress. I wore my blue sports suit and the fuschia colored blouse Gloria just gave me. Together they make a very smart outfit. Adele napped a bit over an hour and when she awoke I dressed her in her little red and green plaid skirt and white square necked blouse, new coat, hat, etc. and she and Ruth and I caught the bus to Harry's house.
We arrived about 4:45 and stayed only an hour. Harry was leaving by 6:30 and we didn't want to stay for the evening. Ethel had prepared dinner for the family and I didn't want to put her out in any way. It so happened that Helen Zamsky was staying and her father had driven her up, so Ruth, Adele and I were lucky enough to get a ride back. Etta, Nat and Vicki were there and left when we did.
By the time Adele had her dinner, had her hair washed and was bathed it was 7:30 and I had dinner at that time. H & G were supposed to go to a dance and though they rushed a bit they left rather late and went to a movie instead. Both kids were up when they left, so Mom and I went upstairs and stayed with them until they fell asleep, which was about 9:30. I did a little sewing while upstairs that I had been putting off for some time. When we came down I was in anything but a letter writing mood and spent the remainder of the evening knitting on Adele's sweater and listening to the radio. I was in bed, by 11:15. Goldie and Diana are leaving for Poughkeepsie within the next two weeks and will be gone for most of the summer.
There was no mail today. I feel that I will relax when I know from you exactly how you stand on points, etc. and I shall be looking forward to hearing from you within the next few days. I love you so much, baby, and I sure do wish I could look forward to “seeing” you that soon.
It is now 11:15 P.M. and you, in all probability, are turning over over on your other side, as the expression goes. I, on the other hand, am very weary and about ready to "hit the sack", if'n you don't mind my quoting you. I worked for three employers today - Mr. Bellet, Miss Hahn and Mr. First. I worked for Mr. B. from 8:30 till one, at which time I had lunch with Anne at H. & H. I arrived at Miss Hahn's at 2:15 (I hadn't seen her for several months and she called late last night, asking me if I could possibly come in today as her regular helper was ill) and stayed until 6. Once arrived home I had dinner, read your letter of May 9th, with receipt for $55 enclosed, and put Adele to bed. When I finished washing and cleaning Adele'a shoes I went into Mr. First's and typed a Will and some bills, for which he paid me $3.
There is no need to tell you how happy I was that "a" letter had finally come through! Naturally, I'm looking forward to a letter giving more definite information about your status as a serviceman in the weeks to come, but I'll just have to be patient. Your letter was very sweet, honey, and if’n you don't mind, I think it would be a good idea to save what you can at the present time in the soldier's deposits so that you can come home with some spare cash. We're going to need a lot of it then and I think you'd feel a lot better if you had some to start off with. If you prefer to send what you can to me you may do so, but I would prefer to see what you could save in the time left before you do come home. Whatever the case, you may rest assured that the final decision is in your hands. I do feel that it is no longer sensible for us to invest what little we may be able to save In bonds, so I shall put any reserve I may have in the bank. Satisfied?
I have some good news - Harry Weinman is home! Syd Brown wrote to the folks not to write to him any more, as he is on his way home. Mom went over to see Harry this afternoon and Goldle and Harry went this evening. Thls is the first time I have ever been left with the two kids. Goldle didn't want to go but I insisted. Harry is coming over tomorrow, so I'll see him then. I may be selfish in this respect, but I've warned everyone that if you do come home that I want you all to myself the first night. When I get through with you, they can have what's left. I'm hoping you'll agree with me.
Harry, Goldie and Mom are most anxious to know your reactions to my decision to give up the house. It wasn't really my idea, but since I did speak up everyone has climbed off his high horse and decided it might be a good idea to stick together until such time as apartments and the like are obtainable. I don't get as many complaints as in the past and if we do stick together there will be but one change - the rent goes up because I'm tired of sponging. Don't for one minute, get the idea that we don't get along. We do get along nicely, considering the relationship, but it is difficult for all of us. All I know is that I'm going to be a happy girl when you come home and we get settled for once and for all. I Love You so much, baby.
Your Eve
19 May 1945
Darling Eve,
We are enjoying lovely May weather here. It was one of those Saturday afternoons that are meant for picnicking, or a long drive in the country, or a day at the races. Speaking of races, I am reminded to tell you that Klein and I went to the movies, whence we just returned to see "National Velvet” the picture you said was regarded so highly there at home. It was a beautiful, heart-warming picture with the same quality of good feeling that distinguished “My Friend Flicka". In addition, there were the exciting racing sequences (I must try to get to see the Grand National), and the superb acting of the beautiful little English girl, her mother, and the entire cast. It's unlike me to forget to note the names of the principals, but I only think the girl's name is Angela Lansbury (and a sweeter kid I never saw), while the name of the actress who so competently played the part of her mother escaped me entirely. Donald Crisp and Mickey Rooney, of course, it's impossible to miss. Otherwise, it was a rather ordinary sort of day. Oh yes, almost forgot to mention that I received three of your V-mails today and one yesterday. They were those of 3, 5, 7, 9-10 May. The last mentioned rubbed me the wrong way, Chippie. Not because of anything you said, or failed to say, but because you split it up to cover two days. I've never reproached you for interrupting a long “regular" letter to continue on it next day, but I wish you wouldn't, if you don't mind, do so with anything as skimpy as a V-mail. Let's both be a little more generous in future in the amount we write, since we're not writing daily as we used to do shall we, honey?
Your letters call for no comment, since they are crammed full of your daily comings and goings, some news of our neighbors and friends and the family, Gloria's most recent visit (I must write to her soon), your most recent acquisitions in clothes and lingerie (I sure would love to see those “pernts”, you tease, and I guess you know I wouldn't be content with just seeing them), and your erroneous computation of my “pernts" - I mean the Adjusted Service Rating kind. You should have known that inactive service would not be counted, but I guess you indulged in a little wishful thinking, huh?
Forgot to tell you that I managed to get off a V-mail to Dot, but I'm still waiting the opportunity to write some real letters to everyone l have been neglecting. Tomorrow (Sunday) would ordinarily be a day off and I could get a lot of writing done, but Lt. King has told me that I’m to work in the afternoon, so I'll probably have only time enough to finish this, which I am interrupting because it is time for lights out and our date. G’night, honey,—you know I love you very much—
20 May 1945
Hello again, baby~
Guess I shouldn't have mentioned the nice weather we've been having, cause it clouded up and rained like hell this afternoon. I took advantage of my morning off by doing what most G.I.'s have been dreaming of doing for a long time now, namely staying abed as long as one pleased. Well, I pleased to sleep ’til 11 A.M., when I got up, dressed, worked and went to lunch with Klein. We have chicken on Sundays, which I don't eat, but which Klein dearly loves, so he always makes it a point to accompany me to lunch on that day, when he treats himself to two portions—mine and his.
This afternoon I cleaned up some work in the Orderly Room while it rained pitch-forks outside. After work, I looked up Karl Schwoerer, who had agreed to loan me his “620” camera.
Tomorrow afternoon, Chippie, I am leaving the station for the first time in seven weeks. I'm going on a three-day pass to London, where I have long wanted to go, but didn't because of that promise I made to you when the buzz-bombs were falling. It'll be good to get to the Turkish Baths, Albert Hall, etc. once again, and I'm looking forward to it with the keenest anticipation.—Which reminds me that we are now free to reveal in our letters home, just about everything that has happened to us, or that we have seen since we left the States.—So if there is anything you would like to know about, honey, or anything that has been puzzling you—just fire away, and I’ll tell you. I know you have been wondering of the meaning of the asterisks I put into my letters from time to time—I can now reveal that they meant the sirens had sounded to warn, in the early days, of approaching enemy aircraft, and latterly, of approaching buzz bombs. Of the former, I haven't seen any, because they always came over at night—but they certainly caused us a lot of inconvenience during the winter of 1943 and spring of ’44. Being the Ordnance Company, we had to man the AA defenses of the station whenever there was an alert. When the sirens sounded, we piled out of our sacks, scrambled into our clothes in a chilly barracks, and stumbled around in the dark (if it happened to be a moonless night) to the vehicle, which drove us down to the various gun sites around the field. Then we usually shivered away in the cold night air for an hour or so until the all-clear sounded when the truck came round to pick us up again. We often heard the jerry planes overhead, but we were under orders not to fire unless the planes dropped bombs or strafed installations on the field. This they did on only two occasions, when they dropped a few anti-personnel “butterfly” bombs and an HE shell, which dropped on a runway, putting a hole in it (which was repaired next day) and slightly damaging a few nearby planes. I wasn't on the gun crew on either of those nights, but a few of the fellows who were, got a good scare out of it (to say nothing of getting all muddy when they hit the dirt). Luckily, there wasn't any real harm done. Best of all, there were no casualties. But, believe me, Sweet, it was no fun at all getting out of a nice warm sack in the dead of night to go dashing out to the guns in freezing weather. Sometimes we “sweated out" the all clear as long as two hours and more. Some day, if you ever want to hear about it (which I doubt) I'll tell you more about it. There is much more to tell about the buzz-bombs, which came over from July ’44 ’til about March ’45. It just so happened that our base is situated in what was known as "buzz bomb alley,” which means that we were in the line of flight of the bombs aimed for London. When I say “came over" I mean just that! For a period of a coupla months we were alerted from one to four and five times each night. Within fifteen or twenty minutes we heard the tell-tale throb of the motor of the robot bomb and soon after, the ball of fire that was the burning exhaust gases of the jet-motors. Some of the bombs were plainly seen as they passed directly over our heads at a height of only a few hundred feet. At first, when the alert sounded, we all used to pile out of our sacks to “watch the bombs go by", and yes, to hop into the nearby trenches when we heard one of them "cut out", which presaged their dive to earth. Occasionally, but not often, a bomb would drop a few miles from the base. The blast was terrific even from that distance. Often, we counted two and three bombs going over at the same time. Toward the end, however, when the novelty had worn off, I, and a few others in our barrack, didn't bother to get out from under the covers when the alert sounded. I had one anxious moment on this account—The alert had sounded. A few of the men got up at once to sweat out the doodle-bugs. I didn't see any sense to getting out of bed to see something that gains nothing by repetition. I dozed off again, only to be wakened by the sound of the robot’s motor sounding apparently directly overhead. Abruptly, the motor cut out. I knew what that meant—that the bomb was starting its dive to earth. A hundred thoughts ran thru my mind in that moment. My first instinct was to hop out of bed and make a dash for the trench just outside the door. But I wasn’t so panicky that I didn't realize before I had a chance to move a muscle, that if the bomb was indeed on it's way down that I’d never make it to the trench before it hit—so I just lay where I was for a few frozen instants. Luckily, the bomb had malfunctioned, and instead of going into a nose dive (as it was supposed to do) it glided off at an angle and landed a few miles from the station, exploding with a roar that shook all the surrounding country. The fellows who had gone outdoors got the worst of it, ’cause when the motors cut out what seemed to them immediately overhead, they with one accord jumped into the trench which in itself wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the fact that it had rained steadily the few days preceding, and the trenches were knee-deep in water! You can imagine how the guys felt about all this—They were browned off plenty, believe me!
Well, darling, there will be no more doodlebugs, thank God, and the trenches have all been filled in and we're just marking time and wondering what comes next—and hoping, to a man, that it will be home.
Any thoughts I might have about home just now would only bore you to tears—you've heard them from me so many times, so I'll conclude this with a few words that I pray will never bore you coming from me—I adore you, my Evie—A kiss for Adele. My love to all.
It is now seven days since I had mail from you. I realize that I cannot depend on receiving mail regularly due to the movement of troops, supplies, etc., but I can't help wondering what the hold up is and whether or not you are coming back to the States. I'm terribly restless because of it and I'll feel lots better when I know something - one way or the other. This stage reminds me of the times we didn't know where we stood in the draft.
I wanted to tell you about several of Adele's remarks and always seem to forget. The other day she said to Mom, "Nanmom, do me a favor, Bring me up a glass of milk." This morning she went to the mirror, fussed with her hair and said, "I'm making myself a pompadour," Yesterday when I was walking with her over to my mother's a woman, who lives across the street from my mother, called to Adele, "How are you, honey?" She replied, "I'm fine, How's your husband?" Well, I thought we'd both die! She (Adele) had never seen the woman's husband, nor did she ever make a remark like that before. She must have overheard someone else use the expression and fitted it in perfectly. What a kid! Phil, if you don't come home soon, I don't what I'll do! Adele is so very interesting now and I can't help feel that you are missing so much that I know you would enjoy. Gosh, darling, she's liable to be jealous of you when you vie for my affections, but I doubt it, cause she's not a jealous kid, nor is she selfish. She'll give Diana anything we ask her to or any one else for that matter. Most kids usually won't part with their possessions. I know Diana won't, but Adele always did. It really doesn't matter, for it is what they do when they are older that counts the most.
Adele napped one day this week, but for the most part, she has more or less cut out the afternoon naps, I'd say she naps about two to three times a week now. She's been sleeping very soundly and has been so good lately that I'm afraid to talk about it for fear something will change,
Last night I bathed her, sewed and knitted and washed some clothes. That's how I spend most of my evenings when I stay in. I have no patience for letter-writing and haven't written letters for some time now. Milt Brown is at the front again, seeing action on Minandoa, as I haven't heard from him for some time.
Remember Dotsie, Ben's niece (candy store)? Well her family bought a candy store out in West Philly and they moved out there yesterday. I tore this when pushing my carriage and don't feel like typing it over. Hope it gets through okay.
I'm hoping there will be some mail for me tomorrow. That's all I seem to think about any more. Good night, honey, I love you so very much and am so impatient for some word from you.
As I told you in yesterday's v-mail I went straight out to Dot’s from work. She had asked me to meet her at the bakery and I arrived there about 6:40. I stayed only a few minutes, as the boss told Dot she could leave. Dot works until 7 generally, but the boss made an exception this time.
After a delicious dinner of veg. soup, breaded veal cutlet, fried potatoes, etc. Dot’s mother put Harold (he gets more handsome each time I see him) to bed and Dot and I went shopping. I could not get the jerseys and pajamas, though we tried some six or seven stores. All I could get for Adele was a pair of coral colored light-weight gabardine shorts (on the order a sunsuit) and a pair of acqua linen shorts.
We went from one store to another and at one of the places Dot spotted an all white waffle pique dress that was stunning. Since she has to attend her cousin's wedding shortly, she decided to buy the dress for the occasion. And so we went - from one store to another. On our way back to her house we stopped at a little dress shop just off Sansom St. on 60th St. Well, honey, yours truly bought two dresses only because they were both reduced. They are winter dresses and I doubt if I'll have much wear out of them for a months, but they were bargains - and you know me when it comes to a bargain. One dress is a powder blue gabardine sports dress, buttons down the front, has sport pockets with buttons on the shoulders, two pleats in front, one in the back and plenty of darts and tucks that make it fit just right. It was reduced from $14 to $9. The other is a crepe material - and an odd shade of green that I find it hard to describe. It's a very deep acquay green with gold buttons down the front. There is a small ruffle that runs across the bust and back over the shoulders. It has small pockets in the front on either side, trimmed with the ruffle. The neckline is gathered and ties with a small bow. The belt is snug fitting and also tied with a small bow. It was reduced from $10.00 to $4.79 and is only a size 9, but it fits me to perfection. That's because it's cut very fully.
Tired, but happy, we went back to Dot's and I rested until 10:30 at which time I said my goodnights and went home. About 11:15 I was home after making good connections on both el and subway. I showed Mom the things I bought and she liked the dresses very much.
I was in bed by 12:15 and had a good night’s rest. This hot, sticky weather continues, and I don't like it one bit. You can't feel comfortable for so much as a minute. There has been no mail from you all week and I can't help wondering at the delay, especially at this time. Gosh, honey, I just can't wait till I hear from you! I love you so much, baby, and if you don't mind I'll just take you in my arms and hug and kiss you to my heart’s content. That's just how I feel -
Your Eve
17 May 1945
Evie, Darling,
Just got back from the Aero Club, where I saw combat films of the battle for Cologne, and the pictorial record of the hellish work of the nazis in the concentration camps. The pictures are beyond description. I was conscious of two emotions while viewing the films; a great pity for the poor people who fell into the sadistic hands of the nazi sub-humans, and a tearing hate for the monsters responsible for this wholesale degradation and murder of so many thousands of people. I have no shred of sympathy for the germans in general, or the nazis in particular. It would be no less than just to allow them to starve into obliteration, as they forced others to do. I don't like to dwell on this, Chippie, but one doesn’t forget these things easily - nor should we!
There isn't much to report today. Last night Klein and I went to the movie to see "This is the Life” with Susanna Foster, Donald O'Connor and Peggy Ryan. It was a fair sort of show, and we enjoyed it.
For the past three days I've been making out the "Adjusted Rating Card” for all the guys in the organization. When I started, I thought I could finish in a day, but it took every bit of three. I haven't figured the average for the Sqdn., but I guess it's about 60. My score is 70, not 71, as I previously reported. I've found out that my Enlisted Reserve time isn't good for a solitary point, but I still rate pretty high within the Sqdn., if that means anything which—it don’t at this stage of the game. Believe it or not, we don’t have one man with 85 points! We expect a lot of transferring, shifting about, etc, about the end of the month. The men who are over 42 years old are being discharged, and a handful of men on the station who have 95 points and more. The rest of us are "sweating out the Pacific” and hoping with all our hearts that we'll get a stay in the States first.
I don't know what hopes you have allowed yourself to build up, honey, but you must know by now that I won't be discharged until the campaign against the japs has been successfully concluded - barring unforeseen circumstances. The best we can hope for for the immediate future is that I'll get a furlough home before shipping to the Pacific. This must hit you pretty hard, Chippie, as it has me (I really thought I stood a chance for discharge before the minimum score was announced) but I long ago learned the futility and uselessness of feeling bitter and railing against the fates. I hope you have, too. If ever there was a time when you needed courage and patience - now is the time. Please don't let me down, darling, by weakening at this point. I can bear anything just as long as I know you are strong. If you let the weight of cruel circumstance bear you down now, after holding up so beautifully all this time, it might well be my own finish. The one thought I can't live with is that you have given way to despair. That is why, darling Evie, I repeatedly impress upon you the need for iron fortitude and boundless patience - no matter what setbacks the future may hold. Just as much as I, you must continue to be the “good soldier" you have always been—for both our sakes, but especially for the punkin.
Don't let my little exhortation discourage you, Sweet. I’m still hopeful of a happy time together before we have further cause for heartbreak. I love you with all my heart, my lovely. A sweet kiss for my adored punkin. Love to all from
