February 13, 1944
Dearest,
Today, I’m as happy as a lark—(well, almost). The afternoon mail brought me four eagerly awaited letters: yours of 27, 28 and 30 Jan., and Ruthie’s of 29 Jan. Your personalized stationary is very smart, Honey, but don't be too sparing of it on that account. By the way, how many sheets and envelopes did you get? Is that all? And how long do you expect that to last? Or are you going to “ration” me to a single sheet per day? (At that, I prefer it to V-mail). Y’know—the more V-mail I get, the less I like it. I feel cheated—just as I feel I'm cheating you when I send V-mail instead of an honest-to-God letter. Your solicitude for my “jealousy” is very sweet and touching, Baby, but I think you misunderstand the reason. You evidently think that I am not sufficiently convinced of your love and devotion, and probably attribute my jealousy to that. It isn't that at all, Sweet, God knows you have tendered me every evidence of wifely affection and devotion a man could possibly wish for. No—it’s something deeper than that—something that defies elucidation to an “un-jealous” person such as yourself. However, the important thing is that you reckon with my jealousy—and I know you will. I know, Sweet, that you had no idea what your innocent remarks were doing to me—and I hold no brief with you for it. To close this subject, which is as distasteful to me as it must be to you, I want you to know that I'm humbly grateful for your understanding and unhesitating desire to cooperate. Thanks a million, Chippie.
I note you're still teasing me about the “next one.” Don't stop it, Baby, I love it! Coming from you, that particular brand of “music” is the most wonderfully exciting it has ever been my privilege to hear. Nevertheless, to get back to earth, in this case, “actions speak louder than words”—and I refuse to be convinced by mere talk and protestations of willingness. (Now, who's teasing?) But we shall see—we shall see.
Your paragraph about Harry and Goldie is very confusing and contradictory—as I shall someday point out to you.
I don't exactly know how I can get that discount for you on those Combevita Tablets. I would suggest that you call Mr. Kerr at Sharp & Dohme (sales dept.), identify yourself, and ask him if it would be possible for you to procure a few bottles at the old price. If he can't oblige you, forget the price angle—and get some anyhow. Sounds to me like you need them, Sweet, and I think they did you a world of good when you used them. After all, what's a few paltry dollars where your health is concerned? I won't tolerate skimping on your part in this instance—I'm warning you!
If Harry and Goldie show a reluctance to discuss a name for the newcomer—just forget it. After all, it's their baby; but I don't know why they should feel that way about it—and deprive me of my fun. I think it's very narrow of them. But if they aren't interested—then I'm not either—so there now.
Yes, Chippy I have visited the “nearby towns and villages,” but I am not at liberty to tell you about them, and that's that.
The picture you draw of the lassie—rubbing the sore spot when she faws down—kissing you voluntarily in the morning—is almost too sweet to be borne. I get an overwhelming urge to hold her in my arms and sample some of that sweetness. She is precious beyond words; therefore, just reading about her is just so much whetting of my hunger for her. It leaves me maddeningly unstated. God, what I wouldn't give to hold her close just for an instant. I'm still congratulating myself for realizing in time that I would be doing myself a favor if I didn't let myself become “attached” to my daughter—my very own child—Phil’s baby—Philip Strongin's daughter—it's no use—no matter how I look at it, it still doesn't seem real. I hate to imagine what my feelings would be at this time had I “let myself go” when I was seeing the punkin every so often. Bless her little heart—I'm afraid you're going to have some real competition for my time and attention when I come home to you, my beloved girls.
That letter of mine that reached you within five days must have broken all records. Too bad that kind of speed is the exception, rather than the rule.
I'm going to hold you to that promise to have Clare Pruett make your picture. Don't wait so long that I have to pester you for it.
Sorry, Sweet, but it's “lights out” for now, so I'll close with a great big hug and kiss (where did I hear that before?) for you, your daughter and mine, and my love to all the folks.
(as of yore)
Phil
Sunday, February 13, 1944
Dear Baila,
Received your letter and it was good hearing from you. I’m glad to hear that you are going to be a Grandma again—wish you lots of luck and happiness. How does she feel, Goldie, and I bet Harry must be very happy. How’s Evelyn and her baby—her baby must be adorable. When does Ethel expect her baby and how are they all. I know it’s a long time since you heard from us. Mickey was supposed to come and visit us and then she was ill and I haven’t heard from you all since. Well things are not so pleasant with us here. Jack is in England and I’ll write his address at the end of this letter and you send it to Philip. My brother-in-law is in England also. My husband is in ?[hole in paper] since October but expects to leave from there—for all I know he may be on his way somewhere. I guess you know the feeling. All we could do is pray for their safety and quick return. I got a V-Mail from Harry N. Yuman, but I can’t make out the return address—so will you please send it to me. I’d appreciatae it. Also Phil’s and Jackie and Ben Wyman’s address. And I’ll write them.
Ma is not feeling so well about coming to Philadelphia. It’s very hard for her being that I’m working and Papa. She can’t leave the house because because Pop comes home very late at night and leaves very early in the morning and he must have a hot meal anyway. Betty is coming in this week from Springfield to stay for a week or so and Sol will come down for the weekend. Did you know that Emma and May were in Florida and are due back this Saturday. Why not come down here. It would be swell have you. Rose Emma’s met Gloria’s sister. She’s going to have a baby also. Not Rose, follow me.
Well, I guess you’d be glad to hear that Sheldon is going to school now. He in the first grade and does he enjoy going to school. George expects to enlist in the Navy in April. Seems so impossible but it is so. That’s about all the news and I hope this letter reaches you all in the best of health.
Regards to the Wymans and Evelyn and Harry and Goldie.
Your loving cousin,
Anne
Pvt. Isadore J. Gutkin 3125 0260
97 Station Complement Sqd.
A.P.O. 638, C/O Postmaster, N.Y.
