May 30, 1944
My Sweet,
There was no delivery of mail today due to the holiday. I hope you will bear with me when I say I'm disgusted with this one way correspondence. I find it exceedingly difficult to express myself properly, or to say anything of real comfort to you, sweet.
Today was much like all the others. I pressed most of the day and still have a pile for some other time. The weather has been nice for the past few days. It's cool in the early morning and in the evening and very hot in the afternoon. I spent part of the afternoon outside with Adele. Emma visited for a short while. Here's an interesting piece of news: Miriam Brown is in her third month. She is getting needles in order to hold it. She must have very weak insides.
One of the neighbors, who knows quite a bit about children's feet and shoes, advised me to take Adele to a certain hospital to have her feet and legs examined. She told me not to listen to the doctor, but to make sure for myself by letting another doctor examine her. In this way I would have the opportunity of having Adele examined by a specialist in this field and at the price I could afford to pay. She said her kid walked the same way and she corrected it with special shoes. I've got nothing to lose, so when she gets the name of the place for me, I shall take Adele for an examination. Adele has worn away part of the heel of her present shoes, and they aren't even two months old. I intended to get her shoes next week and perhaps I can get her shoes more easily if they are prescribed by a doctor. I dread the ordeal of shoe-buying already.
I have an idea that the letter I sent off last night will be late in arriving. Therefore, honey, I might inform you that it bears two enclosures, a letter from Jack N. and four snaps, two of me alone and two of me, Adele and the family. It was a heavy letter and required 18¢ postage to ensure its delivery (it should be de-livery, shouldn't it?).
Flora and her husband are home on another two week furlough. Flora’s mother is keeping steady company with a nice-looking bachelor and I'm sure it will culminate in marriage. She introduced us and he seems very nice.
Adele got me up no less than six times last night (boy, was I mad!) and I'm hoping she’ll be more considerate this evening. I'm kind of tired this evening, baby. Gosh, I forgot to mention in my last few letters that I'm keeping “our” date faithfully. I look forward to that moment each day. My dearest one, I love you so much! A fond hug and kiss from
Your Eve
30 May 1944
Dearest Darling,
Seems like writing each and every day is getting to be a little too much for me. Yesterday, for instance, I thought and thought about something to write about, but only succeeded in drawing a blank. One fact did strike me, though; that our precious Adele was exactly a year and a half old on that day (29th May). It set me to wondering how much older she will be before I come home to her. She must be adorable about now and I can't help feeling that I'm missing a great deal in being away from her.
The only activity I indulged in that is worthy of note (yesterday) was my almost daily excursion to the Base Theater to see Frederic March and Alexis Smith in “The Adventures of Mark Twain.” It was a fairly interesting picture, but I didn't care too much for the direction. Seemed to me they wasted too much footage on trifling details. The whole thing was out of proportion. (Maybe I should have been a movie critic, huh?)
Today is Memorial Day and I've been trying to remember what I was doing a year ago. Seems to me we passed in review before the Colonel at Ft. Dix (and was it hot!) Can't remember, for the life of me, whether I managed to get home in the evening or not. I'll be surprised if you don't remember, Sweet.
Finally managed to send off that long delayed letter to Anne Furr.
I have been “appointed” company historian and I expect to be busy tonight and tomorrow interviewing the various section chiefs to procure the data for the company history which I must have completed by the 3 June. This will be a monthly chore and entails a good bit of work.
No mail arrived either yesterday or today, so—since I have nothing else to report from this end, I'll sign off now. Love and kisses from me to you, Angel—and to my littler angel, the adorable punkin. My love to all.
Ever,
Your Phil
P.S. Please send candy.
