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Evie, my darling,
Yesterday (Sunday) being a day off, Klein and I made an early start and hitch-hiked to Walton-on-Naze. It was a beautiful day, and we took good advantage of it. We arrived at Walton, where we were greeted very cordially by our British buddies, and got into our swim trunks straightaway. Then, after a bite to eat, we went to the beach. I hadn't swum a stroke in the past three years, so when Sgt. Jim Montgomery suggested that we walk out on the breakwater, dive off, and swim back in, I was a bit leary, but rather than have him think I was incapable or afraid, I took him up on it. Once on the breakwater, it turned out that Jim wasn't as sure of himself as he first pretended, but I dived first to reassure him, and he followed right after. I'm in pretty poor shape, and I had all I could do to swim to where I could stand on the bottom. I only recall one other time when solid footing felt so good. That was when Jeanette once dared me to follow her at Almonesson Lake. She swam out
so far that I almost didn't make it back. (But that's another story) ~ We sunned ourselves on the beach ’til lunch time, when we went back to eat - still in our bathing suits. After lunch we had another swim and another laze on the beach. The beach was crowded with holiday-makers, but only a very small percentage went into the water at all. They were perfectly content to sit around on the beach (in their street clothes) and drink bottles of tea or lemonade. - And kids! millions of them! And cute! Some of the kids were sweet enough to eat, no kiddin'! - which reminds me that I took a picture of a smiling little boy who caught my eye last time we were up to Walton. The pictures incidentally, won't be ready for a coupla weeks yet. Service is very slow here, and films literally unobtainable. Anyhow, we didn't leave the beach ’til tea-time (4:30). After tea, feeling very fresh and clean for my nap and swim, I dressed and went down to the billiard room, where I beat the ears off Bill (50-17). We caught the 8:50 bus back to Colchester, and there caught the base truck back to camp, arriving at 11:30.
This morning was spent working on those everlasting "Forms 20", the afternoon in transcribing the squadron pay-roll at the Finance Office. Today has been another very sunny, but cool June day! Your V-mail of 15 June and Air Mails of 4 and 18 June arrived today together with that package of candy you mailed in April. Your letters asked if the package arrived, and urged me to make some snaps of myself. I think I've taken care of both. Thanks for the candy, honey. That box of "Lafond" chocolates is really delicious, and those large chocolate bars are always very welcome, especially since they've cut our food rations 20% and we are barely getting enough to eat these days.
Your letters contained several items of interest, Sweet. Among them were the information that you raised the rent to $45. I can only say that that's about what it should have been from the first, and even if the others didn't appreciate the saving your Mom made possible for them and us, I certainly did. One thing I would like to know in this connection. How are the expenses being divided now ? You say something about wishing that I were home to help you with the punkin and that you'd like to see how I'd handle her. From this angle, honey, it's very hard for me to conceive just how I would handle her, although I must admit I have a hazy notion that I'd have her in my arms so much of the time that she'd hardly have any time
or freedom to act uŃ€. At any rate, your wish that I were with her cannot possibly be more fervent than my own.—
The description of those new summer dresses you bought recalled to me how I used to love to see you in a pretty new dress, and how I used to enjoy watching you take it off at night - whoa - I won't go into that now. But they do sound real cute, and I'd dearly love to see you in them. - Especially that blue-gray that you paid $13.00 for. I hope the price didn't bother you too much, Chippie. I assure you it wouldn't phase me if you'd told me you paid $50.00 for a dress. If I can manage to get a few pounds ahead, I'll pay for those dresses - and love doing it. That's not blarney, baby, it's the simple truth.
Glad to learn that Bob has finally bestirred himself to do something about that voice he's been wasting for so long. I predict we'll be hearing many favorable reports about him.
I wasn't surprised that Goldie came hustling back to Philly. It must have been very lonely for her without Harry.
In speaking of Lena's pregnancy, honey, you inject so much of repugnance in your words that I couldn’t help but feel disturbed by it. Please, Chippie, remember that I am well-acquainted with your aversion, so there is no need to write in that vein. As for that "deathly fear" you have of it (being pregnant), I think it sounds rather silly under the circumstances, don't you?
That story about my grabbing you out of Syd's arms when you were dancing with him doesn't sound just right to me. That's not the way I remember it. I wouldn't have thought anything of your dancing with him if it hadn't been for something you told me about him - some “phenomenon” that you evidently found remarkable, but which almost revolted me. As it was, I don't remember that I cut in on you at all. Seems to me you finished a dance with him (on the sun-porch), came and told me your little tale and then I danced with you. I only defend myself in this instance because I've always prided myself that I was pretty successful at masking my terrific jealousy of you. Please try to remember the circumstances, Sweet, and tell me if I'm not right. Will you, dear? And what do you mean you "stood up for me"? I'm curious to know just how you justified my “ill manners" in this case. As for “neglecting" you to play cards, I can only say it would have been downright rude of me to do otherwise when I knew darned well that Uncle Nish came over with every expectation of a card game. Right now, I can't conceive how I'll ever be able to tear myself away from you long enough to play cards! So much for your letters.—
There has been no further word about my transfer. The rumors today say that we'll be going home in August, that we'll be going home in November, and that we’ll be here 'til Xmas or later. The one thing that everyone is sure of is that the 440th Air Service Group is going home, because all the men that are coming into the outfit have more than 85 points. What we don't know, is who of us will still be with the Group when it does go back home. Here's hoping, sweetheart!
Just room and time enough to tell you, darling, that my constant prayer is that I will be with you at home - soon. November won't be too hard to take—I adore you, my Evie. A kiss and a hug for Adele. Tell her that Daddy said to be a good girl. Love to all.
Your Phil
26 June 1945
Dearest Darling,
Today, at long last, we were given some definite information as to where we are going and when, approximately. Now before you get all steamed up, Chippie, I must remind you that I'm still alerted for transfer, and if it comes thru (the transfer), circumstances will be entirely altered. The odds are that the transfer will come thru, I'm only hoping now that it don't. Now, a teletype from 3d Air Division Hq was posted on our squadron bulletin board. It said definitely that this Service Group would ship to the United States "on or about" November 1945. There is a strong possibility that the shipment will take place some six or seven weeks before that, because the transport of troops is that far ahead of schedule. So now you know how the situation stands, Sweet, except for the unknown factor of my transfer. I've already told you what it would mean if I were assigned to another unit at this stage of the game–a quick trip to the Pacific, or a billet someplace in Germany in the Air Force of Occupation. So you would do well, honey, to keep it all in mind.
Last night, before I wrote to you, Klein and I went to the early show to see "Hangover Square" with Laird Cregar, Linda Darnell and George Sanders. It was neither good nor bad—one of those so-so pictures. But Linda Darnell is some tomato. She is very beautiful, but there is something wicked and evil about that type of beauty - else I'm too impressionable.
Today again I spent my time on the Forms 20. The fellow who is supposed to replace me, 39 years old, a lantsman from New York, named Murray Magdol, was the merchandising manager of a Lerner store in New York in civilian life. I asked him what he could save me in the way of clothes bills for you. He said to come around sometime when we're both in civvie street and he'll give us an “in” with the wholesalers. I was only kidding, but maybe we'll take him up on it some day - huh, Chippie?
I just pulled a fast one on Klein. We walked down to the snack bar for a sandwich and coffee. When Klein, who happened to be very hungry (as per usual), picked up seven egg sandwiches and put them on his plate, I told him he was a pig, and ventured a guess that he wouldn't eat them all. He immediately became very indignant and offered to bet he would eat every bite. I told him to name the amount he wanted to bet. He said "half-a-buck". I said "it's a bet", reached over, took a bite out of one of his sandwiches and calmly informed him that he lost. Well, he didn't like the way I won, but he couldn't deny that he had lost the bet, either. I've been teasing him about it ever since. Some fun, hey, kid?
The weather today wasn't quite as nice as it had been, but it was nice and cool, and the clouds cleared in the evening. The days very long now - it doesn't get really dark ‘til about mid-night. We usually turn in about 11,0'clock, when the sun is just setting.
That's about all I have to say tonight, sweetheart, so I’ll bid you still another fond adieu, kiss you full and lingeringly on your sweet lips, squeeze your exciting body as close to mine as I possibly can, and whisper the thing my heart is full to bursting
with ~ I adore you, my Evie ~ Kiss our punkin for me. My love to all.
Ever,
Your Phil
Dearest Darling,
Today, at long last, we were given some definite information as to where we are going and when, approximately. Now before you get all steamed up, Chippie, I must remind you that I'm still alerted for transfer, and if it comes thru (the transfer), circumstances will be entirely altered. The odds are that the transfer will come thru, I'm only hoping now that it don't. Now, a teletype from 3d Air Division Hq was posted on our squadron bulletin board. It said definitely that this Service Group would ship to the United States "on or about" November 1945. There is a strong possibility that the shipment will take place some six or seven weeks before that, because the transport of troops is that far ahead of schedule. So now you know how the situation stands, Sweet, except for the unknown factor of my transfer. I've already told you what it would mean if I were assigned to another unit at this stage of the game–a quick trip to the Pacific, or a billet someplace in Germany in the Air Force of Occupation. So you would do well, honey, to keep it all in mind.
Last night, before I wrote to you, Klein and I went to the early show to see "Hangover Square" with Laird Cregar, Linda Darnell and George Sanders. It was neither good nor bad—one of those so-so pictures. But Linda Darnell is some tomato. She is very beautiful, but there is something wicked and evil about that type of beauty - else I'm too impressionable.
Today again I spent my time on the Forms 20. The fellow who is supposed to replace me, 39 years old, a lantsman from New York, named Murray Magdol, was the merchandising manager of a Lerner store in New York in civilian life. I asked him what he could save me in the way of clothes bills for you. He said to come around sometime when we're both in civvie street and he'll give us an “in” with the wholesalers. I was only kidding, but maybe we'll take him up on it some day - huh, Chippie?
I just pulled a fast one on Klein. We walked down to the snack bar for a sandwich and coffee. When Klein, who happened to be very hungry (as per usual), picked up seven egg sandwiches and put them on his plate, I told him he was a pig, and ventured a guess that he wouldn't eat them all. He immediately became very indignant and offered to bet he would eat every bite. I told him to name the amount he wanted to bet. He said "half-a-buck". I said "it's a bet", reached over, took a bite out of one of his sandwiches and calmly informed him that he lost. Well, he didn't like the way I won, but he couldn't deny that he had lost the bet, either. I've been teasing him about it ever since. Some fun, hey, kid?
The weather today wasn't quite as nice as it had been, but it was nice and cool, and the clouds cleared in the evening. The days very long now - it doesn't get really dark ‘til about mid-night. We usually turn in about 11,0'clock, when the sun is just setting.
That's about all I have to say tonight, sweetheart, so I’ll bid you still another fond adieu, kiss you full and lingeringly on your sweet lips, squeeze your exciting body as close to mine as I possibly can, and whisper the thing my heart is full to bursting
with ~ I adore you, my Evie ~ Kiss our punkin for me. My love to all.
Ever,
Your Phil
