Sweetheart,
Got back all in good order last night just before midnight. I caught the 12:35 train at Middlesbrough, so it took me longer to come than it did going. Actually, I reached Colchester by 9:30, but I had to wait almost two hours for our trucks to come in to the station. However, it was a wonderfully cool summer evening (af dir gezugt gevwarn) [may it happen to you] so I didn’t mind the wait too much. Klein had gone to sleep early, for a wonder, so I didn’t learn ’til this morning that the snaps had come. I’m enclosing them herewith, which, with my furlough letter, should make this quite a worth-while packet. I’ve put some comments on the reverse sides of the snaps in order to call your attention to the interesting features. Hope you aren’t shocked to any great extent at my appearance. You see, having lived with myself these two years, I’m really in no position to know whether or not I have “deteriorated” to any great extent. Frankly, honey, I must admit to a certain amount of apprehension as to your reaction. Will you recognize “Your Phil” in the snaps? I will be most anxious to hear your answer, darling.
Klein had been good enough to pick up my mail, which I read in bed this morning before rising.—And what a stack there was. They were your “longies” of 2, 5, 6, 9, 10, 14, 16, July and V-mails of 11, 15 July. One letter contained the two snaps of the punkin showering herself in the basin. Very nice, and tell Pete thanks for me, but I’m disappointed with your lack of imagination, baby. You write that at the time these snaps were taken, you were in your shorts and barefoot. Didn’t it strike you that a snap of you thus might go far toward allaying a certain hunger to see “more” of you that’s been plaguing me this long, long time? To say I’m disappointed is putting it mildly. I could kick you for not thinking about it!
Much of your letters was devoted to the apparently terrific heat wave you had during the early part of the month, and the means you took to defeat it. Baby, if you could only have been with me these past few weeks!—
There are a few edifying paragraphs about Adele and her latest bright doings that made me want to rush right home and eat her all up. You’d do well, Chippie, to keep a close watch on me when I do get home, ’cause I’m liable to do just that—no kiddin’!—And who’s going to keep me from eatin’ you, I wonder?
Was tickled to hear about Syd’s being discharged. He and Tant and Uncle Nish must be nearly in seventh heaven. Now if only the war against the japs would reach a quick and happy conclusion! Then we’d all be able to rejoice—with full hearts. At that, Sweet, the way things are going down there, I can’t see us seeing action in the Pacific Theater—especially if we don’t get home ’til November. Dr. Soong, the eminent Chinese statesman has made an unqualified statement for today’s press to the effect that japan will surrender before the end of the year, or at the latest, early in ’46. Now, that’s mighty encouraging coming from Dr. Soong, ’cause he’s among the wisest of the wise Chinese.
I would very much like, darling, to answer your letters in detail, but that is a practically impossible task. I do want you to know, though, that I’m most deeply grateful for the very volume of your mail, despite that heat and everything else.
It is late now, my dearest, so I’ll gather all the elements that are going into this letter, include a large portion of love, which you may not be able to see, but which you must surely feel, charge you to kiss the punkin for me, and sign off.
As ever,
Your Phil
P.S. Mrs. Davies and the Doctor asked me to forward their best regards, Klein just asked me to do likewise.
P.P.S. Please, honey, write to the Davieses. I love you.
P.P.P.S. Couldn’t get it all in one envelope, honey, so am putting it in two. Thought I’d tell you—just in case they get separated. ’Bye now—
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