Post #387 - June 8, 1944 I Don’t Think, Sweet, That You’re Going to Make Adele’s Second Birthday and Don’t Get the Idea I’m Complaining, Chippie,—I Couldn’t. Not with Thoughts of the Boys on Normandy’s Beaches Almost Constantly in My Mind

 

June 8, 1944

My darling,

Today was a very tiring one for me, but I'm very happy! Yes, dear, two of your letters came through, those of May 17 and 18, the former with the $10 enclosure. I'm surprised you sent it along as you did and that it got through. I was very surprised to put it mildly. I'm very happy that the packages got through. Next time I'll wrap them better. I haven't sent off any packages since I sent off the one with the pictures and the peanut chews. I'm not going to send off any til I hear from you. Don't, worry, honey, I'll make up for lost time when I do start sending them again. When I say “hear from you" I mean til shortly after D-day so I can be sure of your correct address and of whether or not you have moved. I think your suggestion as to the disposal, of the $10 is very nice, but would you mind very much if we save it til you can accompany us? No one seems to be in much of a "going-out" mood what with Seymour going into the Navy tomorrow and Goldie about to pop. 

In your letter of May 18th you say if I cut my hair so much as an inch you'll give me the same dose I hand out to Adele when she's bad - wouldn't mind taking that licking right now! No, dear, don't worry, I shall not cut my hair. 

And now for why I'm so tired. As I told you yesterday Goldstein's put a pair of shoes away for me. So o - I took Adele down to try them. Ruth went along and brought Adele back, while I went on my way to work. I took my lunch along and ate at the office.

I was terribly disappointed, cause the white shoes he had set aside were of a different make and were too narrow across the instep. I had to settle for brown shoes, honey, and no one, including me, likes them. However, that does not detract from the fact that they are good shoes, well-made, and that her walking has improved noticeably in just one day. The fellow at the shop told me that he is expecting a few pairs of white buckskin in about the first week of July so I'll try to get her another pair then - for dress. The brown shoes are a pleasure, honey, cause they look neat and don't have to be cleaned twice a day. They are a 6-1/2 D and cost $3.50. 

Adele was a good girl going down and Ruth reports that she slept all the way back. I carried Adele to 5th St. to save time and Ruth carried her from 8th and South to 10th and South. I boarded the 47 trolley with her at 9th and South and bought an 

exchange for the Market St. trolley. I was 15 minutes late for work, but Mr. Bellet didn't mind. Nor did he mind that my dad brought me in a large container of hot chocolate and some cough drops. Both Adele and I awoke with colds in the morning and I hesitated about taking her downtown, but the fellow refused to hold the shoes for me and I simply could not wait any longer. That's what made me so tired. My resistance is good though and I'll throw it off in no time. Same goes for Adele.

Mr. Bellet isn't a bit strict, in fact, he sometimes sits and talks to me. The job is easy 

and will be easier once I get on to the work. I feel wonderful when I get home- not at all tired. 

This evening we have company for dinner - Rae and Mickey. Rae brought Adele a half dozen lollipops and a lot of chocolate squares. Adele sat and sucked a lollipop for about a half hour. She loved it and got all “stuck up", if’n you know what I mean. I also learned that the girls have bought Adele a birthday gift long in advance of her 2nd birthday - a doll. They didn't bring it along, but decided to tell me about it. They really intended to hold it til it was closer to her birthday. Gosh, honey, I can't get it through my head that Adele is just about 18-1/2 months old. I don't think, sweet, that you're going to make her second birthday, regardless of how early the war does end. 

June 9, 1944

 

Your letter of May 19 came this morning, along with a nice v-mail from Milt. He writes to me often, as you may have noted. He's a fine boy and it makes me feel badly when I don't have time to send off a letter to him. I shall try to get one off this weekend. No comment on your letter, sweet. 

I was so sleepy last night that I literally fell asleep on the typewriter and decided to let it ride til today. We have company for dinner again this evening - Paul and Mr. Chase (who is in to attend the unveiling on Sunday). I was fast asleep by 10:30 last night and both Adele and I slept thru til 7:30 this morning. I awoke at 6:30 (force of.. habit) but stayed relaxed til 7:30, at which time I dressed us both and made breakfast. I wore my tweed suit four days this week (the weather has stayed remarkably cool), but tiring of this, I decided on my soldier suit today. I don’t have sufficient clothing to dress properly, and will buy a few things when I have the opportunity.'

Miss Hahn nearly fell through the floor when she called and found I was working steady. She told me she was getting a new girl in (just to write orders) and I didn't think she would need me. How ever she is worse off than ever before cause the new girl can't come in, as her mother had an emergency operation. She begged me to come in, so I'm giving her a break and I'm going in to her place for a short while tomorrow. I have to work for Bellet in the morning from 9 to 1 and after lunch I'll go direct to Miss Hahn's for a few hours. Her sister is terribly ill too and she is entirely helpless. I'm a jerk some time, but I do feel sorry for her and as long as I have Sunday off I guess it won't kill me. I don't feel half as tired now as I did when I was 

at home all day. Gosh, honey, today is exactly a week I'm working for Bellet. Today, for instance, I was finished working ??? at 4:30 at which time Mr. Bellet left and his son, the bookkeeper and myself indulged in some interesting conversation. The bookkeeper is not German, as I first thought, he is Austrian and has only been in this country a few years. He doesn't like Phila. weather or its dirt. I agreed with him on both scores, George, Mr. B.'s son drove my dad and I home this evening. Seymour was supposed to leave at 1 P. M. but the time was extended to 11:30 this evening, giving him another day. Goldie feels wonderful, so I guess the baby isn't due just yet. I guess she'll hold out for a few more days.

There isn't much else to say, baby, except that I'm unspeakably happy now that the mail is coming through regularly. I love you dearly, my darling Phil, and each day brings us closer together and closer to the attainment of our dearest wishes. I feel good, knowing that I'm doing all I can to make our reunion a good one, both mentally (physically) and financially. I didn’t feel that way before. Let us hope it will be short, but let us make the most of it, as we are now doing. My cold has practically disappeared and I'm once again the same old 

Your Eve 

I like my new pen, don't you? 

 

8 June 1944

Dearest Darling, 

No letter from you today; and though the place is fairly humming with activity, it don't know of anything that I would be permitted to tell you without risking the censor's displeasure.

Last night on CQ was a tough one. If there's anything more aggravating than being awakened by the ringing of the phone bell, I'd like to know what it is (and don't tell me the crying of the baby, there's some consolation in that, at least). Anyway, four times during the night, I had to get up, throw some clothes on, and go to rout someone or other out of bed. I'd have felt much better this morning if I'd stayed awake all night. Don't get the idea I’m complaining, Chippie,—I couldn't. Not with thoughts of the boys on Normandy's beaches almost constantly in my mind. I’m merely relating what yours very lovingly has been doing since last writing (After all—one must have something to write about!)

Forgot to tell you that night before last I saw you in a dream, more plainly than a has ever been my pleasure to see you thus heretofore. You were wearing the black-jersey with white collar (with the yellow flowers), just as you are in the picture on my chifforobe! When I awoke, I realized with regret that I had failed to retain the details. Only the image of you remained. Last night, I saw you again, Sweet, only this time you didn't wear anything and the “details" were vivid and excitingly fresh in my mind when I awoke. I don't have to elaborate on the “details.” We've lived them hundreds of times—need I say more? 

This afternoon, I broke away from the Orderly Room long enough to ride down to the Finance Office to dispatch the money to you. Remember, Baby, it is for the punkin's shoes, and your dress. Wear them well, my darlings.

Sorry this has to be such a “shorty,” Sweetheart, but I really have nothing else to 

say for the moment. My dearest love to you and Adele. My love to all. 

Ever, 

Your Phil 

Post #386 - June 7, 1944 I Like the Job Immensely and am Learning Most of the Business Quickly and All Day, I’ve Been Listening to the Radio, Hoping to Get Some Fresh News of the Invasion

 

June 7, 1944

My own,

I had a nice v-mail from Milt Brown this morning and it's exactly 20 days since I've heard from you. Mr. Bellet had a letter from his son (also in England) two days ago, dated May 18. I hope that means I'll soon be receiving your mail, sweet.

Since I started to work my days are so routine that I find it difficult to fill up even a v-mail form. Besides, I have very little spare time as you can well imagine. I like the job immensely and I'm learning most of the business quickly. I do a lot of billing, form letters, adding and shorthand. Today though, regardless of the pile of work, the afternoon dragged. I'm always thinking of you and wish very much that I could hear from you.

I've had to get Adele shoes, but shoes are scarcer than diamonds (for babies). However, one shoe store where I purchased Adele’s previous shoes promised to put a pair aside for me and I'll have to take her downtown tomorrow morning to fit them.

Mr. Benis called this morning and had to call off his visit here. He simply could not squeeze it in. He did say, however, that he and Frances would be in Philly in about a month for a bar mitzvah, and would certainly make it a point to visit us. I rushed like the devil this morning to be dressed and have Adele dressed on time. It just doesn't pay to rush - how many times have I said that?

It is clear and cooler again today. We don't have to pay our gas bill this month as the company owes us money. I gave Mom $40 for our board anyway, but I'll probably make some deductions during the month of July in August. When Nat was here this past Sunday, I told him about the garageman running off with three months rent and he promised to try to get it for us.

Adele said “night” very clearly this evening when I asked her to say good night to everyone. She's a regular little girl now and no longer a baby. She has a mind of her own, she has habits, she talks, and she tells you what she wants and she points to your picture and says “daddy”. When I give her the large picture of you and me (taken by Vartan) she gives me a kiss first and then you and then she hugs us both. Then she says, “mommy and daddy” and points to each of us. I think I shall soon be able to explain it to her, but I'm hoping you'll be home by that time. Adele gives me and “pop” a royal reception when we step out of Mr Bellet’s car. Mr. Bellet thinks you look like an actor on the picture you sent me from England. Aincha flattered!

I think you're the best looking guy in the world, but then I'm prejudiced. I do love you so much, baby, and I love to tell you so. Good night, baby, hope you're dreaming of

Your Eve

7 June 1944 

 

My Sweet,

 

I wish you could receive my letters as regularly as I receive yours, Today, yours of the 28th and 29th May arrived. The one of the 29th was especially welcome because it contained the snapshots and Jack's letters, 

The day has been pretty dull, since I had very little to do in the Orderly Room, from which I hardly stirred all day. Sgt. Murphy and the other clerks were busy elsewhere, so I was unable to leave, myself. I had meant to mail off that money I mentioned in my last, but I guess it'll have to wait 'til to morrow, 

All day, I've been listening to the radio, hoping to get some fresh news of the invasion, but all I could get was a repetition of the same bulletin, over and over again. We know little more now than we did yesterday. 

Tonight I am CQ again, but this time I have the bunk already made up so I don't have to cut this short in order to get it done. 

Before I go about the business of answering your letters, Baby, I want to tell you what I think of the snapshots, The two of you alone are, as you say, "glary" (and it's a perfectly good word because it conveys exactly what you mean to say). Too bad, ’cause they might have been darned good otherwise, However, the most important feature(s), namely, your stunning gams, are very well defined, and they look just delectable enough to make my mouth water. I am now considering the one of Mom, Adele and Gloria. A very good picture. Mom looks natural, and mighty pleased with the punkin, as who wouldn't be, she's adorable - even without the cap. I instinctively looked at her right foot, and the fault you mention is all too apparent, I hope it's as you say, and that she will grow out of it, but I won't be entirely easy in my mind until there is at least some improvement in the condition. Please remember to keep me posted on this, Baby. Gloria looks older and heavier, but she looks healthier than ever. You look best, I think, in the snap with the punkin and the British cadet. Your hair is lovely in this one, and you look enough like "my Evvie" to instill that urge in me to hold you close and kiss that smile that is the dearest thing about you, (All this in spite of the fact that your posture is bad, and the smile just a little forced). Isn't anyone reminding you to keep those shoulders back? You seem to sag in the middle, Chippie. I hate to have to remind you of this weakness, Sweet, but if you remember, I called your attention to this tendency frequently, and I dislike even more feeling that my efforts to correct it have been entirely wasted. It is just as important from the standpoint of health to correct it, as it is for the sake of appearance. Please take this in the spirit in which it is meant, darling, and don't think I am being over-fussy, 

The punkin is just too sweet in this one for my peace of mind, Here, more than in any other picture of her, is the look of the little girl I dreamt about long before I actually conceived her. I'm not sure, but I think it's her hair in this one which differs from all the others. That sweet, cherubic countenance is as wonderfully appealing as any I ever dreamed of. She is no longer the infant - she is the little girl I always wanted, and I'd give the world just to hold her as she stands there. The more I look at the two of you, the greater grows my longing for you, and ever more clearly do I realize what I am sacrificing in being away from you. God, bring me to my happiness soon! 

Your letter of the 28th gave me the first intimation I had had that Seymour had joined the Navy. I'm glad for him, in that he attained his wish, but I sympathize with your mother, who must feel pretty badly about having to give up her second son, even if only temporarily. 

Isn't 4942 the house the Lieberman's used to occupy? Or was it 4940? I don't remember. Don't feel too badly about Betty's moving, Honey. Remember, it might have been much worse - she might have moved out of the neighborhood entirely, 

Glad to hear the good news about Hilda and Jenny and Dave. They're swell kids, and deserve just such a break. Convey my best wishes for their every happiness, and don't forget to include Mr. and Mrs. Zaslaw. You might call them on the phone and remember me to them, if you will, Chippie, 

Adele apparently behaved herself and enjoyed her first party much better than did her old man at his. I remember I was awfully backward, and most painfully shy and embarrassed. Guess she "took after" her Mommy this time, huh? Too bad she had to spoil her good record for the evening shortly afterward at the Anapolsky's, 

How did Mom like "A Guy Named Joe"? I haven't seen it yet, but I will - I will. Haven't seen Broadway Rhythm' either - ditto! 

What the devil is "one-piece shorts and skirt that you mention here, and which apparently inspired so much comment? I've puzzled and puzzled over it, but I'll be damned if I can picture it. Guess you'll have to draw a picture, Chippie. You don't say if Pete made a picture of you in this outfit when he made a couple of the punkin. Why not? In answer to your coy fishing-for-compliments question "I always look nice (don't I dearest?)", I must admit, albeit reluctantly, that if there were ever a time when you didn't, I either wasn't around to see it, or I just don't remember it? oops I mean (That ought to thrill your girlish heart all to pieces). (I'm not so dumb---) 

 

Jack's letter was a revelation. I had no idea he was so crazy about Denver, I don't have any objections whatever to settling there, provided our opportunities are there. I am, of course, delighted with Jack's reaction to your suggestion, but what about Lenny? Jack seems to be having himself a time out there, and I'm glad, for his sake. 

Your letter of the 29th was as short as it was sweet, which made it too darned short. However, since it contained both the snaps and Jack's letters, I guess I'll have to forgive you - this time. 

There really isn't anything more I can say about this letter, except - someday I'm going to make you pay up those "oodles of love and a billion kisses" that you so lightly promise in the last paragraph, Remember - I got it in writing, and I mean to take advantage of it! 

Baby, I've worked myself up to such a fever of longing for you, that in pure self-defense I must end this right here and now. I love you so much, Ev, hold my punkin and pretend very hard that you are me, then tell me how wonderful it feels. My love to all. 

Your adoring 

Phil

Post #385 - June 6, 1944 D-Day—Drew Pearson Predicts that the War will be Over in the Fall, Providing the Invasion is Successful and Today is the Most Important One in the Lives of All of Us

 

June 6, 1944 - D-Day

My dearest.

First, the fall of Rome and now - D day. All I can think of is when will it be over - when will I see you - when!! By the way, exactly what does the “d” stand for?

I had two letters today, one from Fay, the other from Michael Nerenberg. No doubt you have received a letter from him by this time as he said he was going to write. His letter was most friendly and he told quite a bit about himself. He asked me to visit them some evening and I hope I shall have the opportunity to do so.

Two nice things happened today - besides D-Day. Mr Benis is in town and will visit here for a short while tomorrow morning. He wants to see Adele. And - I finally bought a fountain pen (notice signature). It retails for $1.25 and Mr. Bellet gave it to me for 75¢.

Aside from those few things, D-Day is no different than any other day for me. It has gotten warmer, there were flags in front of most every home, I worked from 12 to 6 and I'm making fine progress at my job. I had a queer feeling all day long - an unsettled feeling - the tension is over - where will it end? - and how long will it be - where are my loved ones? - are they alright? - when will I receive mail? The uncertainty is killing me.

Adele has been sleeping well and the change of my routine doesn't seem to have affected her at all. She is eating fairly well and keeps my mom on the go all day long.

Goldie is still around and probably will hold out for the weekend or later. Harry just commented that it takes an invasion to close 10 race tracks. Yep, he's still picking the winners????

I just knew France would be the first to be invaded. A flash, (Nazi source) has just come over the radio that Allies have landed in Greece. Drew Pearson predicts that the war will be over in the fall, providing the invasion is successful. Oh, baby, how can words tell you what I feel! I just can't seem to say the right things this evening - but I'm sure you know what I mean. Just knowing that I might see you even, though it isn't at all definite, is really sumpin’ to get excited about. Each day brings us closer and closer together and it makes me feel so good! I love you, my dearest husband. May God keep you well and bring you home safely to

Your Eve

6 June 1944 

My Darling, 

Today is a most important one in the lives of all of us, The suspense, ever-increasing, of the past few weeks, has dissipated in the climax of definite and colossal action. A series of moods have come and gone since I first heard the news. I learned about it just a little after six this morning, just after I had relieved the CQ in order that he might go to breakfast. The phone rang. It was Sgt. Murphy, calling from the Ammunition area. He asked me if I had "heard". When I asked him "heard what"?, he told me. My first reaction was one of exaltation. I don't have to tell you how we have all been looking forward to this, and the suspense has been terrific. Then, the sobering thought of the thousands of boys out there, not many miles away, on the beaches of France, giving their best in the business of fighting and killing and dying, and all the while thinking inspiring thoughts, or bitter ones, or just how to knock out that pill-box up ahead. Then, apprehension, the chilling thought that maybe all would not go as planned, Then, on hearing the news broadcasts, and especially Churchill's heart-warning message to the House of Commons, a new re-assurance, and the return of that feeling of exaltation, Over all, the elation that comes with the knowledge of a great endeavor undertaken and auspiciously inaugurated. Needless to say, the Company has been unprecedentedly busy these past few days. I myself have not been called on to perform other than I have been doing, except in one instance but many of the men are working the nights through, grabbing what sleep they can at odd moments. "Invasion" is never more than a few minutes from anyone's mind. There was no demonstration among the men at the announcement of the news, but the air has been electric ever since with suppressed excitement. The dearth of news of the new front is maddening. It has the effect of crumbs tossed to a starving man. Naturally, everyone is most anxious to know what is going on, and I've been asked a hundred times today, "heard anything new? The pilots, who could probably tell us much, if they were permitted to, are necessarily reticent. The news of new developments that come in over the radio are meager, and obviously too general to give anyone a clear picture of what is really going on, 

I'm wondering, dear, what impact the news made on you, and the people of the neighborhood as a whole, I don’t know what part the various boys of the neighborhood are playing in this undertaking, and am therefore unaware of the probable emotional repercussions of all their mothers and wives and sweethearts, but this much I do know - that you and mom need worry very little on my account. It would be wonderful if all our boys could "fight" the war from my comparatively safe vantage-point. I have made it a point to keep you fully aware of my exact circumstances at all times with an eye to this day. Thus, knowing that you know my present situation, I am satisfied the news of the invasion caused you no undue apprehension on my account. I know you are all wondering and worrying about Eddie, and concerned for Harry Wynman and Eddie Strongin. I wish I could reassure you on that score, too, but, unfortunately, I have no idea as to the present circumstances of any of them. However, I would wish you all to be in good faith as to their continued well-being. Above all, do not attach any significance to a lack of mail from them, however prolonged. It will, no doubt, be necessary from time to time, for the authorities to hold up the mail for reasons of security. Refrain from jumping at conclusions. Maintain an easy mind, and a calm, spirit. Do not worry until you know that there is something to worry about. Be proud that they have attained their stature as men, in the noblest sense of the word - that they are doing their utmost to protect and bring peace to their loved ones. 

Your V-mail of 30th May arrived today, and I note that you are concerned that you hadn't heard from me for twelve days. You will, no doubt, Chippie, realize why this had to be, by the time you receive this. You must learn to expect these delays, and to regard them with equanimity, 

Taking Adele to the hospital to have her feet examined by a specialist sounds like a good idea, and I'm hoping you make the opportunity to do so. 

Your talk about buying shoes for the punkin makes me think that it's about time I bought them for her. Too, it's about time I bought you a new dress, so tomorrow I will send off enough to cover both items, 

I'm looking forward to receiving your letter of the 29th, containing those snaps you mention, and Jack N.'s letter. Yes, Baby, it should be "de-livery - but why the sudden concern over such a trifle? Or are you becoming self-conscious about your writing?

 

In closing, darling, I want to ask you to do your utmost to keep everyone at home in good heart in these frightening days. Discourage, as far as possible, any inclination they may have to speculate on where the boys are, or what they are doing. Keep the subject as far as possible from their minds. Concentrate, as far as you are able, on the many commonplaces of the every-day routine of living (And don't let me hear you say that you can't!) Allow no pessimistic thought to be aired by anyone without challenging the basis for it. You at home have every cause for confidence in the eventual happy conclusion to the present struggle. Do not be so unselfish as to forget that almost everyone has his own private anxiety for his own particular loved ones. Keep always in mind the unalterable fact that the most heartening victories for the country as a whole, is bought only at the price of many individual "defeats". Therefore, any overt show of exuberance in such a victory is not only in bad taste, it is apt to cause someone real pain, and create bitterness, 

Good night for now, my darling. My love to the punkin, and all my dear ones. I am your adoring

Phil

June 6, 1944

Dear Phil,

Haven't received any of your authentic letters for quite a while and am anxiously awaiting one. It seems like years since we passed under the Golden Gate. I now have nine months overseas service in and have nine more months to go to be eligible to go back to our land of the free. I hope, as we all do, that the war will be over by then. Phil, did you experience any of those bombings over there? I have yet to see a Jap or even a “zero”. I'm still at the same job as a combination stock Record Clerk and Control Clerk. I don't get much exercise anymore and I'm putting on weight that I need. Remember how I looked the last time you saw me? Scrawny, wasn't I? However, I'm looking and feeling chipper these days and the little mosquito has yet to dig her beak into my anatomy. I entered a malaria control contest and my entry was as follows: “It's better to have a complexion of yellow, than get the chills and shake like Jello”—I didn't even come close to winning the prize. Flash! just heard news of the invasion of France. Gosh, Phil, there's no telling where you will be by the time this epistle reaches you. The radio is a good imitation of a pin up babe, for all the boys are gathered around it. I hope and pray for your safety and the safety of all the boys who are taking part in the biggest show on earth. I know that what I am just about to write will sound silly to you, for I'm just your kid brother, but if you are over there where those dirty Jerries are beginning to understand how hopeless their plight is, please stay close to the good earth and smudge up that fair skinned puss of yours—In other words, take good care of yourself, you big lug. I hear from the folks quite often. I'm sure you know about the arrival of one widdle he-man, Stuart Chase, so I shan't say any more about our brand new cousin. Ev wrote me that you had sent Mom, your mother-in-law and Ev orchids for Mother's Day. You certainly outdone me, Phil, for I sent the only thing available—a greet o gram. The way Ev, Gloria, and Goldie write, the spirit of Mother's Day was never higher. I know that the folks at home will be even more concerned about your safety now that the invasion is a reality, so please, Phil, write to them as often as you can and don't forget your kid brother down where South meets West. Well, Phil, here's hoping we shall be seeing each other in the very near future.

As ever,

Your kid brother

Jack  

Post #384 - June 5, 1944 The Longest Break We Ever Had Was from Aug. 5 to 27 When You Left for England and Things are Going on Around Here that Makes Us Think that Something is Due to “Pop”

 

June 5, 1944

My dearest Phil,

Today, sweet, is exactly 18 days since I received your last letter. The longest break we ever had was from Aug. 5th to 27th when you left for England. I hope this doesn't equal it, though somehow I feel that it may even be longer. God pray that I be wrong! Today I went to the bank to cash my allotment check and the check from S&D. I made a deposit of $25. I worked from 12 to 6 and learned a lot more about bills, etc. The girl came into clean (she is really Mrs. Cooperstein’s girl) and she is an excellent worker. So much so that we decided to chip in and have her every two weeks. Phil, you ought to see her work! She lifts up a mattress or a spring by herself as if it were a feather. She's a big husky gal of 22 and she seems to enjoy working so hard.

The weather continues cool and it is delightful. I wore my suit to work. Imagine! Here it is June 5 and I'm wearing a heavy wool suit and I'm covering myself with a quilt at night! Adele was a perfect little girl yesterday and today. She slept for three hours in the afternoon and from 7:30 P.M. last night till 8 this morning. She disturbed me twice throughout the night and awoke at 6:30. I put her in bed with me and we slept together til 8. That is Adele did. I couldn't fall back to sleep, got up, dressed for work, and half cleaned the room before Adele came to. I'm looking forward to better sleeping nights, especially when the weather gets cooler in the fall.

When Adele fell asleep, Mr. First called me in to type three short letters for him, for which she paid me $1. He won't need me often, so I oblige him when it is something very important. My services seemed to be in great demand, don't they, sweet?

I had two letters today - one from Syd, the other from Fay. I haven't any idea of when I'll be able to reply. I just about have time to get my daily stint off to you, baby.

Mr. Bellet says I can have anything wholesale and will recommend me to any place where he has connections. I think I shall be able to get everything Harry and Goldie need wholesale and that will be quite a saving. For instance, our crib for Adele cost $35. I believe I could get the same item for about $29. The profit is enormous. On the way home this evening, Mr. Bellet chanced to mention fountain pens and since I've been wanting to buy one for some time, I asked whether he had any available. He said he would fix me up shortly. I'm going to work Saturdays during the month of June only, and then only five days a week. They don't work on Saturdays during the months of July and August anyhow.

Tante Bosh got herself a place down the shore and assured us that we were most welcome. I'd like nothing better than to see Adele playing on the beach or take her into the water a little ways. I hope we get the opportunity to go sometime. By the way, you ought to see your daughter jump rope! I see I've reached the end of my letter, so before I run out of space, I want to hug and kiss you and tell you how much I love you, baby. I'm so hungry for you!

Your Eve

5 June 1944 

My own darling, 

Today was my day off, so to begin with, I allowed myself the luxury of lying abed until 11 o'clock. At that time, I bestirred myself to the extent of getting dressed, washing up, and walking to the mess-hall for lunch. After lunch, I got interested in a book of short mystery stories, and whiled away the afternoon reading, I was interrupted only once - when Sgt. Murphy came in to convey the CO's commendation on the company history which I submitted a few days ago, Everyone who read it seemed to think it was pretty good, for which, naturally, I am highly gratified. I was afraid, until then, that it might not be up to the required standards, since I only had a few days notice to gather the necessary data. Altogether, it took me three days to complete, On the first day, I got my information from the various section heads. On the second, I made the rough draft, and on the third, I typed it and sent it in to Headquarters. So you see, Chippie, it was all pretty impromptu, and I'm very much surprised at the result. This month, because I’ll have plenty of time to compile my data, I expect to turn in an even better one, 

At four o'clock, I went over to the Orderly Room to see if I had received any mail. Sure enough, there was your V-mail of 26 May! 

You are "uneasy" because you hadn't heard from me for eight days, I wish it were within my means to reassure you, Baby, and thus spare you your discomfiture, but, unfortunately, it isn't. I understand our mail was held up for reasons of security. Hope it doesn't happen again, Sweet. 

Again you mention your impatience to receive my letter of the the 14th May (Mother's Day), and I feel an even greater heel, when I picture your disappointment with its contents. If I could only write it over again! 

Though the rest of your letter is most interesting, containing many items of news about the family in general, there isn't anything else that calls for comment. 

The picture at the theater is "Flight for Freedom", one I saw a long time ago, so I think I'll indulge in a few rounds of poker to kill the evening, 

Things are going on around here that makes us think that something is due to "pop", but of course I'm not permitted to say what they are. By the time this reaches you, you will probably know as much about it as I. 

See you tomorrow, Baby. But right now, here's a big kiss and hug for you, and the same for the punkin. My love to all. 

 

Yours lovingly,

Phil