Post #328 - March 25, 1944 FLASH! Ethel had a “Boy” Three O’Clock This Morning and What a Day! Phooey!

 

March 25, 1944

Dearest Phil, 

I've decided to make this a "running" letter and finish it tomorrow. I've got quite a bit to say and want this to be a "longie." 

To begin with, and before I tell you the "little" things, I want you to know that Ruth mailed off two packages to you today for me. Last night she finally nailed a whole box of Oh Henry's (24) and since the 24 didn't seem to fill the box, I bought two more bars, making 26 in all. I mailed that off, along with the other package, containing a box of Steven's chocolate straws, plain chocolates (also Steven's) and a box of Bond cookies such as I sent some time ago. Guess that will have to hold you for a little while cause I'm kinda low on funds at the moment. I have an opportunity to get a whole box of peanut chews and will take advantage of that just as soon as I have available funds. 

As I told you in yesterday's letter, I went to the Lindley to see "Thousands Cheer" and I can only echo your praises. I haven't enjoyed a picture as much as this one in a long, long time. I almost saw it twice. Fay accompanied me. After the movies we stopped in Ben's and each had a malted. (Wish I could send a couple of those along, with me attached). I noticed a new ice-cream - orange-cherry pecan and Ben gave me a whole spoonful to taste. You guessed it - it was delicious - just the sort of ice-cream you’d go for. He was the one who said I could have the peanut chews whenever I want them. I walked Fay home as it was nice and I felt like walking. We got on the subject of our husbands and I got to remembering how we first met, how you looked at me at Parvin State Park, how you told i me I had sex appeal and down the line until I was feeling awfully hungry for the sight of you. At this point I reached the house and had a picnic getting the door open. The key just wouldn't turn and I had to try many times before I finally succeeded in opening it. It was about 11:30 and to my surprise - Gloria. She came last night after all. We all chatted for a good while and then Gloria gave each and every one of us a gift. Me - a light fuschia (reddish) tailored blouse. It has four rows of stitching (same color) about the edges of the sleeves (puffed) and collar, a small space and then four more rows of stitching. It buttons differently too. There are three rose-pearl buttons close together, a small space, and then three more rose-pearl buttons to close the front. The collar comes to long, sharp points and the whole blouse fits beautifully. She gave Goldie a peach satin bed-jacket, Harry (belated birthday gift) a beige shirt and Mom a pair of pearl earrings (a cluster of three small white pearls). Santa Claus Strongin we called her. 

Mrs. Reisner visited yesterday. Davey is still a chemist, or rather, working at it, but due to the new ruling about men under 26 being drafted regardless of necessity, is now is 1-A. They are wondering what will happen." 

March 26, 1944 

FLASH! Ethel had a "boy" three of clock this morning. Weight - 7 lbs. 7 oz., after only one hour of terrific labour. I think they intend to name it Stewart or Stuart (take your pick). The family is a little disappointed, but, nevertheless, happy that it's all over. I hear the newcomer looks like Paul. 

I sort of got off the track. At any rate, Gloria looks better than ever. We sat and gabbed til 2:30 A.M. and then hit the hay. Adele woke me four times between then and 6:30, so you can imagine how I felt the next morning. (yesterday). Sam Nerenberg has a car now and gives it most of his attention, which Gloria thinks is good for him, mentally. It was lovely yesterday and is lovely today, regular spring weather. I dressed Adele in the morning and stayed out all morning. Ruth and Seymour were taking pictures in the back so I stuck my puss in too. We also snapped several of Adele. We took one of Adele with the little Maser boy who is the same age. We tried to get them to hold hands, but nothing doing. They wouldn't do it long enough to enable us to snap it. I doubt if I'll look well, but it is something nevertheless. 

Fay went downtown and since it was the last day before the 20% tax goes on cosmetics, leather goods, etc. I splurged by giving her $1.10 to get me a bottle of Elizabeth Arden's Brilliantine for my hair. My hair needs some attention and this does the trick. It gives luster and smells awfully good. You'd like it. 

 

Lena Miller called me last night and we also talked for a good hour. Herby was supposed to be drafted, but had a terrible auto accident, thereby securing an indefinite deferment. He broke his jaw in four places, broke his wrists and ankle, knocked out all his teeth, plus bruises and whatnot. Lena said he was laid up for three months and is just beginning to get on his feet. At first they thought he had a brain concussion and wouldn't come through it. Her girlfriend Sylvia and Jack Taylor (Syd's brother) were married a month ago and the Millers are very friendly with the Taylors. Quite a small world, isn't it? We made plans about seeing each other and she will come to see me first. We weren't definite about what day, but it will be in the near future. We want to see each other's baby.

My father spoke to his boss about taking me on, if and when I decided to go to work, and he would be more than glad to have me. I could either work in the office or sell juvenile furniture. I told my dad I wouldn't work more than five days a week cause I'd want some time with Adele. Phil, before you give me your reactions, let me remind you that I don't relish the idea of returning to work for I would like to raise Adele my way, but it is an opportunity to get us into a good position financially and one that I wouldn't like to pass up. I'd like nothing better than to get off to a good start once you get back. Adele would have excellent care, in fact, I think my mother has more patience with her than I do. She won't eat, time and again, yet when I take her other to my mother’s she goes to the food and eats like a little horse. That's kids for you! The pay would have to be between $25 and $30 per week. My grandmother expects to leave just before Passover and I could go right to work, about the middle of April. Please, baby, don’t be angry with me, for it is in my power, at the moment, to help us. Believe me, sweet, when I say I would rather see you doing it than me, I know you have pride and I'd feel the same way you do if I were a man. You are doing your very best in your present circumstances and I have an opportunity to do better. What do you say, sweet? You know how anxious I am to please you, baby, and I can't help feeling a bit indecisive about the whole thing til Í know it's okay with you. Remember - duplex apts! 

My grandmother told my mother that she is going to give Adele $5 when she leaves. I'll believe it when I see it. She's crazy about the kid and makes no bones about it. 

Last night I read Gloria many of your letters. She loves to listen to them and loves your style of writing. Since she is so appreciative of such things I took the liberty of reading some more intimate parts, if’n you don't mind. She always says, "You ought to be so proud of him, Ev." I am! 

Today the Browns dropped in for a short while. I read them the three letters I received from Syd this past week. Uncle put a dollar bill in Adele's hand and I refused to accept it, but was forced to take it whether I liked it or not. I told Adele to return it to him and she did, but he sent her back to me with it and she made me take it. She's not so dumb! My cousin Bessie drops in occasionally. She had TB. You'd never recognize her, sweet, she's positively attractive. She’s slim and a stunning dresser. She has plenty of money to spend on clothes and has lovely taste. She was wearing a stunning gray plaid man-tailored suit ($35), red tailored blouse, black leather shoes, red bag, and a large bunch of black ostrich feathers in her hair. She actually can look pretty. She thinks Adele is gorgeous. 

Hal Chase is town with his wife and they are staying at Ethel's. Hal has an engagement at the Earle with Ray Heatherton's band. Evidently he has an act as he receives billing right under Ray Heatherton. The whole gang went to the movies last night, Ethel included, and then hit the hay. Three o'clock Ethel started yelling murder and the whole bunch piled into the car and went to the hospital. At five they were back in bed and it was all over. 

Harry and Goldie went to Camden tonight to see Hal, as they play at the Stanley in Camden on Sunday; as you will recall. Gloria went to see Ethel with the rest of the gang this afternoon. Mom and I will see her later in the week. Rae is taking off from her job to spend the ten days with Paul and Ethel won't need our aid at all.

Adele looked exactly like a cupie doll with white bow in her hair, pink pique dress with full skirt, pink socks and white shoes. Her latest shoes are the nicest she has ever had - they stay white longer. I shall endeavor to get buckskin hereafter. 

Adele had a grand time this morning riding in a wagon. She, I held on to the sides and enjoyed every minute of it. She likes to ride a tricycle too and I guess I'll have to be getting one in the near future. Can you believe it? She's a regular little girl and no longer a baby. The other day Sarah gave her a brush to brush her hair. She brushed her hair and then cleared the brush of excess hair by throwing each piece on the floor. She aIways watches me carefully and then mimics to perfection. What a kid! She's the biggest showoff you ever saw and loves attention. She gets jealous if I don't pay strict attention to her. (I can hear you saying - just like a woman) When she's all prettied up she'll stand and admire herself in the mirror. She slept fairly well last night (Thank God) and I managed to get some rest. 

Natalie's new bedroom set is lovely - bone white with hand painted roses. It's girlish and so pretty. Betty got her a kidney shaped vanity with mirrored top and white organdy skirt. Natalie is still up in the clouds. She never thought she'd have such a lovely room so soon. 

And now, sweetness, I'll say a fond good-night. I guess Ethel's new little boy will be a "big" boy before you get to see him. I pray that I'll have you here for my birthday next year. I adore you, baby mine, with a love that grows daily. I guess you know what I’d do to you were you only here now. (SIGH) I had my period for eight days, having finished today, and it sort of knocked me a bit. I haven't had it that long since I had Adele. All's well that ends well and that goes for our separation. A kiss from 

Your Eve

25 March 1944

Evvie, Darling,

Again, no mail! I'm so disgusted with the mail service I can hardly contain myself. God knows, the daily prospect of receiving a letter from home is the one bright thing in an otherwise drab existence. To be deprived of this is both depressing and aggravating, and I'm burned up! So much so that I better say no more about it.

There really isn't much to write about and I was about to resort to V-mail again when it struck me that it would be an injustice to you, who takes so much pains to ensure that I receive the maximum of mail. It wouldn't be fair to deprive you because someone else isn't “on the ball.” Thereupon, I determined to write two of these pages—if I have to sit here all night.

Earlier this evening, after a very busy day, I had laid down on my bunk to relax. The weather (you’ll have to guess) made me terribly homesick, and there were moments during the day when I was aware of most disgusting pangs of longing and loneliness. It is a most wretched feeling: a mixture of frustration and utter helplessness, and most unwelcome. I quit rather early, hoping to sleep my mood off. Before I lay down, I looked long and hard at your picture, smiling so cheerfully at me from the shelf. But this only intensified my longing, so I flopped myself on the bunk to court the forgetfulness and oblivion to be found in sleep. I was just dozing off (in spite of Klein’s boisterous carrying-on) when Red came in to ask me if I wouldn't go to the movie with him. I knew “Du Barry was a Lady” was playing and I did want to see it, so I agreed to go without any further ado. On the way, we stopped at the mess hall to eat a supper of fried frankfurters. (I could've said hot-dogs, but frankfurters is a much longer word—catch?) potatoes, corn, cinnamon-flavored apple-sauce and tea. Arrived at the theater, I settled (I almost said “back” but the benches don't have backs)—I settled down (Don't be funny, Chippie, I know benches don't have “down,” either)—anyway I settled (settled? settled!) to enjoy the colorful and tuneful and eyeful (how’s that get in there?) “Du Barry.” Alas, and alack. (archaic, but expressive) it was not to be! Just as I was beginning to enjoy myself, the damn projector went on the blink again. All through the first reel, the sound was so low, that it was impossible to understand it. Tommy Dorsey's orchestra just wasted it's (their) time going through the motions. The second reel was just getting underway with the sound showing decided improvement when—bingo!—the damn projector wouldn't project! By this time, the frankfurters were beginning to make themselves felt (and they didn't taste nearly so good on the way up), and I was heartily wishing I had a “bicarb.” Red said he had had enough and rose to go, asking me if I was coming along. I was right beside him when he started down the aisle. When I reached the hut, I helped myself to the soda, after which I felt much better!

Then I preceded to the Orderly Room to write this. This just about covers “my day”—and what day! phooey! About now—I should say something nonchalant and don't-give-a-damn” like—“oh well, tomorrow's another day”—but if I do, I'll probably be tempted to add “yeah, that's just the trouble!”—so I won't say it.

If I start right here to tell you how much I miss you, want you, love you, adore you, and worship you, my darling Evelyn, it should bring me to just about here (and exactly two pages). I feel much better now.

Love

Your Phil  

Post #327 - March 22, 23, 1944 I Kept Remembering Too Much Today and I Saw Some of the Pilots on This Base Receive the DFC and Other Decorations

March 23, 1944

March 22, 1944

My Darling,

I'm sending off this V-mail 'cause I won't have time to write a full-fledged letter tonight. As a matter of fact, Chippie, I don't rightly know what I'd write about. Nothing worth mentioning took place today and it's been more than a week since I had a “real” letter.

Things in general around here are so dull, that for the first time in many moons I am completely at a loss for words enough to fill even this limited space.

Tonight, as I told you in yesterday's letter, I am accompanying Moats and Klein on the “liberty run.” I'll tell you all about tonight's activities in tomorrow's letter. I hope they'll be something to talk about. I'm really not so keen to go anyplace, but I'm even less anxious to hang around the hut.

I don't know what's holding up the mail like this, but I do wish it would start coming through. Please excuse the brevity of this letter, Sweet, but I'm sure you understand the handicap I'm working under.

Plenty of room left to tell you, in great detail, the great extent of my love for you, Baby, but you are still young and impressionable and I hate to lay the basis for conceit in you—so I'll just remind you that I love you very dearly and let your imagination fill in the blank spaces. Kiss the punkin for me. Love to all from

Your Phil

P.S. Whaddya know? I did it again (filled the sheet, I mean)

Dearest Sweetheart, 

No mail (with the exception of some back numbers on Monday) since last Friday and I'm beginning to wonder what, exactly is holding up that mail. I sure do wish something shows up soon cause I’m at a loss of words and can’t seem to get down to some real letter writing. I'm sorry about the V-mail two days in a row, baby, but I'm out of air-mail envelopes and sufficient stamps to write any other way. Besides I'm finding it hard to write at all with the lack of mail. I had a letter from my brother today dated March 12, that contained very little in the way of news. It rained, rained, rained and is still raining for the past 24 hours. My mother may not get the refrigerator cause the party that accepted the deposit may not be able to obtain an apartment she had leased that had a refrigerator. If she gots the apartment with the refrigerator my mother will get her refrigerator and everybody will be happy. Here's hopin'! I cleaned the skylight in the bathroom, the walls, tile and plumbing and floor for a real cleaning and that room fairly sparkles now. I haven't been able to mail the latest package or go to Clair Pruett’s - the weather is against me. At least 

all the snow has disappeared. You were home last year at this time and we were preparing to go to Columbus. I kept remembering too much today and I'm kinda blue this evening. I miss you keenly, even hough we have been separated over seven months. Every once in a while I got a terrific urge to see you and don't 

know what to do with myself. I love you so much, Phil! It’s been so long since I spoke your name! Mind very much if I say it a couple of times? Phil. Phil. Phil. Phil. My Phil! Goo-night, baby, and don't mind if I cuddle up just as close as I always did. A kiss from

Your Eve

23 March1944

Dearest Darling,

Didn't go on the liberty run last night after all. Moats felt a cold coming on (his story) and since the weather wasn't too inviting anyway, Klein and I didn't press him. Instead, he and Klein procured a dozen fresh eggs, and we had a swell time frying and eating them at the Snack Bar. After that, we came back to our hut where Klein, Nicholson and myself played pinochle ‘til lights out.

This morning was spent at the usual routine tasks. In the afternoon I saw some of the pilots on this base received the DFC and other decorations.

This evening there was a USO show (“Flying High”) at the station theater. The MC was Al Bernie, whom I used to pay 35¢ at the Earle to see. (Ain't I lucky?) He was very well received here. His mimicry, posturing, mugging and rapid-fire “line” had the audience in an almost constant uproar. I don't remember when I've ever laughed so hard. The rest of the troupe were: (1) a very personable miss who sang and played the accordion and teased the guys unmercifully with her suggestive songs, wicked smile and eyes that said very naughty things indeed. (2) A singing sister team consisting of one beautiful blonde and one even more beautiful brunette. They sang beautifully, too, together and individually. The sophisticated-looking blonde sang a medley of “sweet” songs, and the innocent-looking brunette obliged with a number entitled “In Paris—it's love” that was so risqué that she had the boys howling. (3) Al Bernie introduced her as a “tremendous artist,”—and he wasn't kidding. Kay Laval (or something like that) is built on the lines of Kate Smith, only more so. Her forte was poking fun at herself and her “husband,” who assisted her and played the marimba to the entire satisfaction of the G.I.’s. (4) A little tap dancer who used her attractive, if muscular, legs to good advantage. (5) Al Bernie himself. His imitations of Charles Boyer, Edw. G. Robinson and Al Jolson were ludicrously exaggerated and very funny. His best effort though, was his take-off on Sinatra. He coughed, retched, and gave every indication of imminent collapse as he staggered through his song. A G.I. “page” walked on bearing a large sign: “If you feel faint—press the buzzer under the seat.” When it appeared that “Sinatra” couldn't last through the number another G.I. walked on to give him a “shot in the arm.” I don't have to tell you how the G.I.’s reacted to this lampooning of their pet aversion. They did everything but roll in the aisles. I laughed ’til I cried. All in all, I had one helluva good time.

Mail is still “among those missing” and something I would very much like to have. Maybe tomorrow (I hope—I hope).

Goodnight for now, my darling. See you tomorrow. You know, of course, that I am still

Your adoring hubby,

Phil

P.S. My love to all. A special kiss for Miss Adele Bara Strongin (bless her li’l heart)! 

 

Post #326 - March 21, 1944 Ben Wrote to Harry W. and Told Him that He Hoped to See our Jack “Real Soon” and Last Night There was a Red Cross Show Here on the Base

 

March 21, 1944 

Dearest Phil, 

No mail at all today and I figure there are about seven letters due me. What in heaven's name is holding it up? God but I'm anxious for some late news! 

Ben wrote to Harry W. and told him that he hoped to see our Jack "real soon". 

I had a pleasant surprise this afternoon when Seymour walked in quickly, handed me $5 "for yesterday" and walked out just as quickly as he had entered. I intend to bank that $5. 

The weather was lovely today in spite of the snow and melted most of it. I shoveled the pavement and the back of the house of the snow. It was actually melted ice. It snowed to a depth of seven to eight inches. There were many accidents due to the slippery roads. 

Miss Hahn called me this evening and wants me to work a half day tomorrow. I've been soliciting orders for her and she pays me a small bonus, besides giving me whatever I buy at cost price. 

When most of the snow had melted I took Adele out in the walker and shopped. I enjoyed the crisp, fresh air and bright sun, refreshing breezes and general springtime touch, even though there was snow on the ground. 

I worked on Mom's sweater last night and it won't be long now before I complete it. It's turning out better than I thought it would. I already know what I'm going to make next. The next item on my list is a vest for Adele, a white one with all ruffled edges. I’ll go into detail about it when I make it. 

I must run now as my mother is washing and is giving me hell for not hanging them when she brings them over. 

I dislike ending so abruptly, sweetheart, but I didn't finish with Adele until 8 P.M. and I'm rushing like mad to get done. Time, though, to say how much I love and adore you, angel mine, and time for a long, lingering kiss. 

Your Eve

21 March 1944

Sweetheart,

Still no mail—and the jack-pot’s piling up. Here it is the 21 of March, and the only letters I have received for this month from you are the V-mails of 3 and 8 March. I'm looking forward to settling down to read about 10 of your letters at one sitting. There's nothing I enjoy more, so you'll have to condone my eagerness. C’mon Sump’n!!

Last night there was a Red Cross show here on the base. The gals (American and British) called themselves “The Minstrel Maids.” There were six of them, all passing fair, but not quite pretty enough to make me homesick (if’n you know what I mean—and you know what I mean!) They put on a pretty good show, but the stars of the show were two guys who clowned the bit and played the banjo and drums. The drummer half of the team was a whiz, stealing Jack Pepper’s famous act and doing it credit. There was a not-so-young babe built on the lines of Sophie Tucker and singing in much the same manner. Her rendition of “Minnie from Trinidad” was enjoyed immensely. On the whole, a very creditable show.

Moats and I just returned from the Snack Bar where we had a coupla sandwiches and coffee. Klein is on guard, Red went to the Liberty Run with McFarlin, and Burdine was too lazy to stir himself, which is all by way of explaining why only the two of us went to the Snack Bar.

I received your V-mail of 8 March on the 20th, but failed to mention it because I was reluctant to spoil the continuity of the “Anniversary letter.” You were preparing to go downtown with Anne, so you didn't have time to say much. What there was, though, was mighty sweet and I want to thank you, Honey, for taking the time to dash off the few paragraphs. The last sentence particularly intrigued me. You say “She (Adele) sings herself to sleep with this tune. “ah-ah, da-da.” I won't pretend to believe your assertion that she's thinking of me at those times. What I want to know is—does she say “da-da” or “dah-dah”? You want to know if I'd like a job like your Dad's? How can I tell you when I don't know what his job is? All I know is that he works for a furniture concern. You said that you were all dressed up in your fur “outfit.” Does that mean you had a hat made from that piece of fur? If so, how come you didn't tell me about it.? If not, why do you use the term “outfit”? Maybe the answers are in some of the letters I'm “sweating out.”

Tomorrow, Moats, Klein and myself are taking the Liberty Run to town. This time we won't waste our time and money at the Hippodrome. There are some nice movie houses in the town and this time we intend to wind up at one of them!

Seems to me Mom owes me a letter. I can't understand why she holds it off so long. Is she so busy all day and in the evenings that she doesn't have time, or is it that she doesn't feel she has anything to write about? Just remind her, will you, Sweet?

It's a long time since I mentioned the neighbors. Remember me to the Frommers and the gang next door (I never did learn Lou’s and Pete’s surnames.) What are Helen and Jean doing these days? If you're writing to Jean, give her my best. While I remember it—send me Mr. Silver's full name and address, I neglected to make a note of it and it would take hours to find it among the more than 200 letters of yours I have on file.

And now—as the “old maestro” used to say, “it's time for au revoir, pleasant dreams—” Look for me at 5:00 o'clock, Baby—I'm always there. Kiss the cherub for her “da-da.” Wish she was old enough to understand my writing—I might just possibly ask her to kiss her “mommy” for me, her

Loving daddy, Phil

P.S. Love to all.

P.P.S. Please send the candy, food, clothes, radio, baseball glove, roller skates, scooter, bicycle, books, games, toys—or what have you? (Hope I haven't forgotten anything.) I'd appreciate it, dear, if you would deliver the next package in person—or, if you don't feel like lugging anything, just forget the packages.

March 21, 1944

Dear Phil:

How are you? I received my report today and the marks I made were as follows, English B

Practical Math B

Biology B

Bookkeeping B

American Ideals B

Arithmetic Review C

Chorus B

I made the honor roll and to do so you must have all “a’s” or “b’s” with a possible “c” in a minor subject. I'm going to try harder this term because the first report really doesn't count. I may start to work at the five and ten again next week. They're getting busier because of the oncoming Easter holidays. That's all for now, regards from all.

Loads of love and kisses

Ruth

Post #325 - March 20, 1944 I Feel as Though I’ve Matured in Those Three Years Into Womanhood and Our Love has been Tested in the Harsh Crucible of War

 

March 20, 1944

(three years) 

Beloved Darling, 

"Our" big night is here again, our third. My only wish tonight is that our fourth will find us reunited or about to be reunited. I feel as though I've matured in those three years into womanhood. I've experienced and learned many things, mostly, I think, to my advantage. Don't you think I've changed a lot? You have changed too, for the better. I guess "love" does that to people, the desire to be right and to be loved completely. As time goes by, I realize how lucky I was. You were the best thing that could ever have happened to little immatured me. They say it's not wise for a girl of 18 to marry at that age, but if the marriage is as successful as ours is, then it's okey dokey with me and my daughter. What do you say, baby? 

I remember our first anniversary clearly. Did you ever really know how happy and surprised I was? I shall never, never forget that particular moment when I discovered the box of jewelry in among the lovely bouquet of gladiolas. I never dreamt that you could surprise me so completely and I loved it. Perhaps it was because I never expected it of you. You never were too sentimental. The Army seems to have made a regular sentimentalist out of you and it's perfectly alright with me, especially where I'm concerned. Later in the evening you fell asleep and that was that. I'm hoping I'll never have trouble with your sleeping habits once you return. It always threw me off, cause you were rested and I was tired. I had to work twice as hard to keep up with you. I certainly wouldn't be able to do it now. I have a picnic keeping up with Adele let alone keeping up with you. I wouldn't mind knocking myself silly right this moment, if only you were here. I doubt, though, if I’d do you much good, cause I fell off last night and felt lousy all night and all day. 

Your three back letters of March 1, 2, and 3 were in the mails this morning (the free ones) and saved me from being disappointed. There was also an anniversary card from the family. My sister gave me a white crepe blouse, tailored with a scalloped collar and pocket, long sleeves, that is quite attractive. 

We had another heavy snowstorm today, to make matters worse. We had more snow these past two days than we did all winter. It's fairly thick and I have no desire to go out at all. It's freezing cold. 

My father finally landed a refrigerator for my Mom. He happened to see an ad in the Sunday papers and decided to follow it up. It's a 1942 model G.E., practically brand new. Besides that, the same family had a lovely maple bed and bureau for sale and my dad bought that too, all for $215. My grandmother is leaving us (you can just imagine how sorry we all are!) shortly and my mom would have been without a refrigerator again. She's elated about the whole thing, and I don’t blame her. The maple set is for Ruth. Ruth had her hair done at the beauty parlor the other day - gettin' to be a glamour babe. 

After I finished writing to you last might, I wrote to Milton and then a *thank you" letter to Goldie's folks. I hope you'll get the opportunity to get that Jewish letter off to them in the near future. Then I caught up on my pressing, which had accumulated. While pressing the last piece I felt funny and knew that I was unwell. I made some progress on the sleeves of Mom's sweater today and hope to finish the whole sweater shortly. 

Harry just returned from a second visit to the doctor and he has been put on a diet. He weighs 221 lbs. Everyone around here is trying to reduce except me. I guess the only way I'll ever gain weight is by getting pregnant. Who's giving who ideas? 

Adele says "Har ra" for Harry. She was a mess today, just cause I wanted to rest a little. She wet her pants and even "went" in her pants, for which she was soundly paddled. I couldn't wait til I got her into bed this evening. 

I called Dot and we chewed the rag awhile. Snuff has been making $80 per week and it's going to be quite a change for Dot. From $80 per week to $80 per month. She's going to pay her mother $40 per month. She says we'll get together more often once Snuff goes away. 

There isn't much else to say, baby, so I shall close now with the earnest wish and prayer that I'll be saying I LOVE YOU in your ear softly in the near future. Phil, darling, I want so to put my arms about you, hold you, caress you and make love to you this evening. I wonder why!?? Guess it's really love, huh? Three big kisses, one from each of your women, me, Adele and Mom.

Your Eve

P.S. Goldie's baby is due June 9th and I've mentioned it before.

P.P.S. I'm glad you got the package of Stevens candy and the hankies. I've mailed two packages since then.

20 March 1944

Beloved Chippie,

Today, as you no doubt are well aware, is an important date for “us.” On this, the third anniversary of our marriage, I deem it fitting and proper that I renew my marital vows to love, honor and cherish the girl who has, in the three years of marriage, proved herself as wife and mother worthy of the greatest measure of my devotion. I want you to know, darling, that I am most humbly grateful for the privilege of calling you wife. I have had occasion many times over in the time since we made our vows to each other before God, to thank Him for sending you to me and for making me worthy in your eyes. Our love has been tested in the harsh crucible of war, sickness, separation, adverse domestic conditions and the torturing experience of childbearing. Through it all, I was acutely attentive to the state of our relationship. I doubt if you were aware at any time that I was constantly on the alert for the least sign of deterioration in our love for each other. Certainly many unions have been breached by less potent forces. Yet it may be said of our own that the ties between us were bound ever tighter by each succeeding trial. We have found our strength in each other. May it ever be so! Now, more than ever before, I am in the signally peculiar position of being able to consider our association objectively. I see a young couple in a far-away living room, standing before the Rabbi, and pledging themselves to each other forevermore. I see them dressed in their finest, huddled close together on a New York-bound bus; impatient for the privacy of the hotel room; impatient to pick up the thread of the future; thrillingly in love with love—and each other. I can see that same groom, a scant 10 weeks later, weary and thirsty and distracted; literally pushing his body through the rigors of Infantry field training; hating the everlasting trekking through the Maryland woods; the burning summer sun, the throat parching dust, the tedious hours of lying in ditches, the bite of gravel on knees and elbows, crawling through mud (and worse), cursing the flaming sun one day and chill rain the next. Through it all, counting the minutes ’til week-end leave when he would be free to hurry home to an ailing wife and a bedridden mother waiting in a dingy apartment. I see that bride tossing on a bed of pain, waiting, waiting for the loving arms of her soldier husband, hating a world that could breed so much of pain and loneliness and sordidness together with the wonders of love and beauty; praying fearfully that the Army would see fit to return to her, in her sore need, her absent husband. I see that gloriously happy moment of homecoming for the soldier; the wonderful resurgence of hope and initiative; the happy, exciting days of home seeking, shopping for furniture for the new home; the distinctive thrill of planning and decorating; the pride of possession; the unbounded satisfaction of a job well done. I see the bride and groom blissful in their new environment; proud as punch of themselves, and each other; knowing all the while that someday the soldier would be recalled to the Army to do his share for his country at war; snatching the little joys of the moment with one eye on the mail-box, and savoring each morsel of pleasure to the utmost. I see the young people studying long hours the crucial question of the advisability of bringing a child into a world of chaos and war. I see the soldier taking his courage and convictions in both hands and persuading the undecided and apprehensive bride that to deny themselves the right to progeny was a tacit admittance of cowardice and defeat; a supreme concession to the enemy, and a crime against nature and the unborn child. I see the understanding born of love and faith in her mate overcoming the doubts and fears and prejudices of the wife, inspiring her to even greater measures of sacrifice; imbuing her with a new fortitude and sense of triumph. I see the prospective young mother bidding a tearless and inevitable farewell to her soldier—at last, returning to his duty—painfully cognizant that his adoring young wife would be suffering all the travail of childbirth within a scant nine or ten weeks. I see the soldier, nine weeks later, making the long trip home on three-day leave; happy once again in the arms of his beloved Chippie; happy in the company of family and friends; laughing with the rest of the jesting crowd in the cab hospital-bound; derisively unbelieving of the doc’s assertion that his wife’s symptoms indicated the imminent arrival of the baby; stunned at the impact and significance of what was happening; pacing (in spite of himself and his privately a pre-determined conception of how he would comport himself at the crucial time) the hospital corridors; worrying the hospital personnel with incessant inquiries; contemplating the five-minute old infant in the arms of the nurse and trying very hard to believe that this was his very own daughter, and failing widely in his earnest efforts to convince himself. I see the young father making a nuisance of himself; belaboring each passing nurse and doctor with his anxiety for the welfare of the new mother; looking with heart-stopping dread at the waxy pallor of her in her exhausted unconsciousness; sitting at her bedside with the fright so big in him that he almost forgot to breathe; living again only when his beloved began to show signs of life. I see the soldier moving with the company to a “staging area”; rushing to his comparatively near-by home in the summer evenings; delighting in the “little girl” look of the mother of his beauteous Adele; chafing with impatience on those evenings when he was unable to leave the post; reveling in each precious moment with his more than ever, adored wife and glorying with her in the perfection of their newest and dearest acquisition. Finally, I see the soldier on a troop ship bound for England, together with thousands of his counterparts.

Further than this, my darling, I cannot contemplate “us” objectively. The soldier is too pressingly “me,” and the young wife too realistically “you.”

I have outlined the high spots of the three years since our marriage solely to prove to you that I have ample cause for my conviction that I am singularly fortunate in possessing a wife that's a paragon of all the womanly virtues. As time goes by, you give me Increasing justification and incentive and reason for loving you. Thus, when I say I love you three years more than when I married you, you shouldn't have any trouble understanding the phrase.

I grant you, Sweet, that our third anniversary could not be rightly called a happy one, but you should bear in mind that it might have been worse—much worse. Let us be grateful for the fact that the future is ours, and look to it with the faith and confidence you displayed when you when I left for the Army last September, 1942.

In closing, I want you to know that I have every confidence in our eventual re-union, and that, not too far in the future. Certainly the bulk of our time of separation has been passed. We are on the way home, Sweet. Keep well and happy and see to it that Adele is a true reflection of your loving care and a credit to the principles which were responsible for her being. Keep yourself the same loving wife and lovable Chippie as always—for me

Your Phil