26 April 1945
Darling Chippie,
Today was another day like yesterday and the day before except for two things: 1) It rained. (2) No mail. Otherwise, the routine was exactly the same. When I came back to barracks I was pretty weary, and lay down to grab a cat-nap before riding down to the mess-hall for supper with Klein. Ordinarily, I skip this meal, but when there is (are?) hot dogs and sauer-kraut and cherry pie with vanilla sauce, well, I just make it a point not to miss supper - that's all. After eating and getting back to the hut I was still tired, so, since you weren't here to prevent me, my sweet, I indulged myself to the extent of another hours nap (n’yah!). Then I gathered up my paraphernalia and headed for the ablution for a much-needed shave and wash, whence I have just returned to write this. Oh yes, forgot to tell you I got a hair cut yesterday. What's so remarkable about that? Well, nothing, except, perhaps, that the barber was a woman - and an attractive blonde at that! If nothing else, it was a novel experience. - Which all brings me pretty well up-to-date, honey - and also leaves a pretty big stretch of white space to fill. What shall I tell you now, baby? I know you've been waiting for me to enlarge on a few hints I let drop recently, but I’m sure you realize that the only reason I haven't is that I can’t. However let your fondest hopes be your guide, darling.
In closing, let me say once again that I have never, for as much as a moment, stopped missing you. My love for you, my Chippie, has withstood the tests of time and absence from your adored presence, and is, I am proud to say, stronger and tenderer, and more securely enshrined than ever. In a word, my sweet, I love you. Kiss Adele for
Your Phil
