March 30, 1944
My Sweet,
Your V-mail of 22 March, along with a letter from Jack N. and check from S & D [Sharp & Dohme] arrived this morning. I didn't get them til later in the afternoon 'cause I worked four hours for Miss Hahn this morning. I had planned to go to C. P. [Claire Pruett] this week, but it rained so often I couldn't. I hope to make it this weekend or sometime next week. You sure are patient and it is sweet of you.
Jack's letter was for both you and me, written by someone else. He mentions that his right hand is sort of out of commission, “just bothersome,” he said. I guess he either sprained or broke it, huh? He has a new address: Pvt. J. N. 32,983,798. Engineer Board, Pando, Colo. I would send the letter along, but there is nothing of real interest except what I've mentioned.
The letter from S & D was your March insurance, $3.45. I'm going to bank it. Guess that cleans up the mail situation.
I forgot to tell you that while I was at the Chase’s the other day, I noticed a book, a best-seller at the moment, “So Little Time” by John P. Marquand. Mickey had borrowed it from the Lit Brothers Library, and since it is paid for til next week and she had finished reading it, she gladly gave it to me. I hope to read it this weekend. I finished Mom’s sweater at long last. I was going to make Adele a vest, as I think I told you, but I think she needs a sweater more. I'm going to make a smocked yoke (eh - got it right!) and waist, mostly most likely pink trimmed with blue. I also have to make Stuart Chase sweater, as per my promise. I blocked Mom’s sweater a little too much and it is large, but it can be reblocked. I have to buy ribbon, have the button holes made and buy buttons before it can be worn. I don't care -as long as it is finished.
I'd like to send off another package next week, but I have no request. I had to send one of the last packages on one of Eddie's requests. You didn’t know what to use to fill up space on your 22 March V-mail. How about a request??!! Do you or don't you want candy? Well??
We played “hide and seek” with Adele this evening and had a barrel of fun. First we would “hide” and she would “seek” and then vice-versa. She says and waves “bye-bye.” When I pick her up she says “down.” She always wants to go “down.” What a kid! I've been terribly “Columbus” minded since the 28th. I didn't write or mention it in yesterday's letter, but I keep remembering constantly. I used to think 600 miles was far away. Little did I know! I pressed til 10:30 last night and hit the hay. Both Adele and I overslept (imagine!) this morning and didn't get downstairs till 7:45. Mr. Frommer’s son took me along, thereby getting me to Miss Hahn’s early. I have no specified time - whenever I get there is good enough for her. Her business has fallen off terrifically and she has no further need for me. I ordered some stationery for Goldie and will go there once more to pick it up. I've only got room for a short “I love you, my dearest” and a long kiss.
Your Eve
30 March 301944
Dearest Eve,
I'm writing this early because I'm going to be busy tonight preparing to go on pass tomorrow. It will be my first pass in six weeks and I'm just itching to get to London again. I had hoped that Ed or Richie or Jack Gutkin would get in touch with me to arrange for a meeting, but since they haven't—I'm taking off anyway.
The afternoon mail just came in, and just as I expected, there were no letters for me. There was a “consolation prize,” though, in the form of your package containing candy, chiclets, cookies, underwear, and a hanky. Thanks a million, Baby.
Nothing startling happened today, so I'll continue answering your most recent batch of letters:
It was good of you, Chippie, to take so lenient view of my failure to send you any money during March, but although I haven't yet learned to “manage my funds to the nth degree on (my) own,” I'm learning to make the best possible use of it, viz: The allotment for war bond I instituted this month.
Your conviction that I'll “make” T/4 is most flattering, but entirely without foundation. I assure you, Chippie. The questions you ask in regards to this are so naive as to be downright amusing. As for my being “complacent” about it, I can further assure you that no effort on my part in any direction, especially those you suggest, would have the slightest bearing on the fact that the rating both of us would like me to have just isn't available. Your impression that my job is authorized T/4 stems from the fact that when I was working in the Station Ordnance Office such was the case, but since I was transferred into the Orderly Room—all that is changed. Lest you gain another misconception, Chippie, I hasten to assure you that even had I continued in the S.O.O., I wouldn't have stood a chance for the rating (which was Sgt., by the way—and not T/4) simply because the rating was already given to another man in another section of the company before I even joined it. In short—no soap—and I'll thank you, Sweet, to disillusion yourself on this score and to forget the whole thing. I know it disappoints you that my “job” is considered so unimportant in the company that the ultimate rank I may attain is the T/5 I now hold, but that's the way it is and there's nothing I can do about it. Please don't embarrass me by mentioning the subject again. It isn't pleasant for me to feel that I have failed to come up to your standards or expectations.
The rest of your letter of 2 March 2 requires no comment.
The next letter(s) was written over a period of three days, but since it was a full seven pages long, I won't bawl you out for holding out on me.
On the 4th you wrote a page of local news, no comment. On the 5th you wrote 2-1/2 pages more (typed). You started to write very late because he had gone to the Lindley with Anne to see Bette Davis in “Old Acquaintance.” You're wrong, Chippie, I never said I saw this one—I never even heard of it. No, Sweet, I wouldn't exactly call you a “sentimental old fool”—you are neither, in my estimation, “old” nor a “fool,” and if you weren't “sentimental,” I wouldn't have you. I trust Adele’s lip wasn't cut badly enough to leave a scar. Your very complimentary closing is even more teasing and provocative than usual. For you, Baby, I'll “move over” anytime.
March 6th was my birthday, and you wasted no time asking me “how does it feel to be 29?” I believe I answered that for you some weeks ago, so I won't repeat myself. Yes, I read about the “quads,” and although it was a pretty sordid story,* I've heard a lot worse. Thanks for keeping me hep to the punkin’s ever-growing vocabulary. Any day, now—I'll be writing to her, too. At this point in the letter, you switch to pen and ink (probably continued it upstairs in our room—right?) You say Adele keeps you up much of the night and that it’s a good thing I'm not there 'cause I'd certainly lose a lot of sleep. Lady, if I were there I wouldn't want to sleep. It would be little less than sacrilege if I closed my eyes with two lovely girls so close at hand. Is it really true that you conceived on my birthday two years ago? I was never aware of it—the date I mean—the night itself is very clear in my mind—yeah man!
That leaves just yours of 7 March to be answered. I hope to do so in my next, which will be a “London letter.”
So long for now, my darling. Keep well and happy, and don't forget to remember me to the punkin. I am, as ever
Your Phil
P.S. Love to all.
P.S. Please send chocolates.
*Sordid Quads story—In researching this, I discovered that quads were a style of military Jeep developed during WWII. At first I thought it was a story about quadruplets. However, I was not able to determine to what incident, or story, they are referring.
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