17 October 1944
Darling Ev,
I spent an almost sleepless night on CQ and killed this morning catching up on my shut-eye. This afternoon for the first time in months, I'm entirely caught up with my work. What a glorious feeling! So—I'm taking advantage of the break by getting this off early so that I may go to the movies tonight to see "Sweet Rosie O'Grady" - again, and possibly get off a letter to Jack N. I'm going to talk some more now about your still unanswered letters. I didn't get very far last night on yours of 3 Oct., and there is quite a bit more I'd like to say about its contents. First, I'd like you to know that I'm most grateful for your encouragement in the matter of my writing—and thanks for “the kiss for trying". I hereby return it with interest. (The “interest” may take any form you wish to imagine) - I know I can trust you not to take advantage of my generosity !??
You make quite a to-do about that new face powder you bought. I would like to suggest, Sweet, that you send me a sample. A little on a bit of cotton or piece of Kleenex should serve the purpose. Will you—huh?
Mom's new outfit must look pretty nice. Especially on her new figure. 18-1/2! Well, whaddya know? Any day now she'll be wanting to borrow your clothes—(do you have any outside of that ever-useful suit? It doesn't seem like it.) When are you going to "spring,” Baby?
I was more than glad to learn that Lil has sent off a package. But I wasn't harboring any grudge, Chippie. I was just wondering whether she was angry with me for something or other, ’cause she didn't even deign to answer my letters. I still have a sneaking hunch that she has something against me, and I'd very much like to know what it is.
Thanks for the financial statement, honey. After reading last night's letter, I don't think it's necessary that I explain why you should stop converting your savings into Bonds. What we need now is a cash reserve. Do you agree?
You needn't wonder anymore, Chippie, as to how I'd react to some of Adele's (boisterous) habits, ’cause I aim to enlighten you right here and now. If Adele is nearly as bright as you make out, then she should be very easy to “hold down". I figure the way to curb her “animal spirits" is to get her interested in something and keep her that way as long as you wish to keep her quiet. That shouldn't be too hard to do with one as inquisitive as the punkin.
Sorry you're having such a hard time getting those shoes for her. It just doesn't make sense, and I’m thoroughly disgusted with a thick-headed rationing board that can't manage to make so essential an item as babies' corrective shoes readily available. I don't blame you for getting mad, Sweet, - thinking about it makes me boil, too! - So much for your letter of the 3rd.
On glancing through your letters, I find that I have already answered those of 4–5 Oct, and there's nothing in that of the 6th that calls for comment. In the V-mail of the 7th, however, you ask a direct question and I try to make it a point to answer these. The reason Bert Woolf is not in the Army is that (you've guessed it!) he's 4-F (or the Limey equivalent). This letter, also, was the one in which you declared the "undefiniteness” of our present mode of life. Very regrettable, I know, honey, but what can one do about it except hope for the best, eh? Besides, I don't like to hear you complain when there are so many others who are in much worse case than you. Take Anne Arcaro, for instance. Surely, she has much better reason to rail against the fates than you have. You, at least, know that your husband is safe and well. And don't point to those women who are fortunate enough to have their husbands at home. Be proud that you have a man that the Army could use.
You start off your letter of the 8th with "Nothing much to say today"—and sure ’nuff you didn't say much. You're slippin’, Chippie. I can remember the time when you could talk—but I won't go into that here. Your mention of "Inky" and the punkin's reactions made me play with the idea of sending her a pup as a birthday gift thru one of the Phila. pet shops, but on further reflection, I figured it might work a hardship on you and Mom, so I decided against it. - Which reminds me that you've asked me in a couple of your recent letters what I would like for Xmas. I can only suggest that you look up last year's suggestions and act accordingly. Really, sweet, there isn't a thing that I need or want over here, except—yeah, you know! However, I would appreciate it if you'd send my civilian shoes. I think I left a pair or two behind didn't I? No, I'm afraid those rubber soled “sports" wouldn't do, but if you can dig up any others, I'd like to have them. You see, Chippie, my G.I. brogans are kinda beat up, but I can't get a pair to replace them. The replacements we can get are those "rough finish" kind that we can't use for “dress" purposes.
You needn't wonder anymore, Chippie, as to how I'd react to some of Adele's (boisterous) habits, ’cause I aim to enlighten you right here and now. If Adele is nearly as bright as you make out, then she should be very easy to “hold down". I figure the way to curb her “animal spirits" is to get her interested in something and keep her that way as long as you wish to keep her quiet. That shouldn't be too hard to do with one as inquisitive as the punkin.
Sorry you're having such a hard time getting those shoes for her. It just doesn't make sense, and I’m thoroughly disgusted with a thick-headed rationing board that can't manage to make so essential an item as babies' corrective shoes readily available. I don't blame you for getting mad, Sweet, - thinking about it makes me boil, too! - So much for your letter of the 3rd.
On glancing through your letters, I find that I have already answered those of 4–5 Oct, and there's nothing in that of the 6th that calls for comment. In the V-mail of the 7th, however, you ask a direct question and I try to make it a point to answer these. The reason Bert Woolf is not in the Army is that (you've guessed it!) he's 4-F (or the Limey equivalent). This letter, also, was the one in which you declared the "undefiniteness” of our present mode of life. Very regrettable, I know, honey, but what can one do about it except hope for the best, eh? Besides, I don't like to hear you complain when there are so many others who are in much worse case than you. Take Anne Arcaro, for instance. Surely, she has much better reason to rail against the fates than you have. You, at least, know that your husband is safe and well. And don't point to those women who are fortunate enough to have their husbands at home. Be proud that you have a man that the Army could use.
You start off your letter of the 8th with "Nothing much to say today"—and sure ’nuff you didn't say much. You're slippin’, Chippie. I can remember the time when you could talk—but I won't go into that here. Your mention of "Inky" and the punkin's reactions made me play with the idea of sending her a pup as a birthday gift thru one of the Phila. pet shops, but on further reflection, I figured it might work a hardship on you and Mom, so I decided against it. - Which reminds me that you've asked me in a couple of your recent letters what I would like for Xmas. I can only suggest that you look up last year's suggestions and act accordingly. Really, sweet, there isn't a thing that I need or want over here, except—yeah, you know! However, I would appreciate it if you'd send my civilian shoes. I think I left a pair or two behind didn't I? No, I'm afraid those rubber soled “sports" wouldn't do, but if you can dig up any others, I'd like to have them. You see, Chippie, my G.I. brogans are kinda beat up, but I can't get a pair to replace them. The replacements we can get are those "rough finish" kind that we can't use for “dress" purposes.
Well, Baby, that's just about all for today—and what a day! It's raining cats and dogs with no sign of a let up. Hope it stops before 6:00, 'cause i'd like to make the first show,
So-long, Sweet. See you tomorrow. Here's a kiss for you and one for the punkin. My love to all - but especially to you.
Ever,
Your Phil
P.S. Don't forget the powder sample!
So-long, Sweet. See you tomorrow. Here's a kiss for you and one for the punkin. My love to all - but especially to you.
Ever,
Your Phil
P.S. Don't forget the powder sample!
P.P.S. No mail from you today - darn it!
