20 February, 2011

20 February, 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
Sunday Morning
20 February, 1944        0930
Dearest sweetheart –

One thing you won’t have to worry about is my staying in bed late. For one thing, I expect to be busy with my work and the hospital, and for another – I never did indulge in the well-known luxury. Maybe I never had the right incentive, dear. I’ll probably be able to change on very short notice though.

Down here – some of the fellow are allowed to sleep a bit later on Sundays, but I inevitably awaken at the usual hour. This morning there’s very little to do and that’s why I’m writing so early.

Well yesterday I got a few letters from you, Sweetheart, and most welcome, too. I got one from January 19th, Feb. 2, a V-mail from February 4th and an airmail from the 7th of February. I read them all with interest and noted particularly your various moods, dear, in your writing. In one – you seemed just a little bit tired, darling, and in that connection I wanted to mention this before – you know how much I love your letters and want them, but I know that sometimes if you’re out for a day or an evening, that it must be difficult for you to get a letter written. In that case dear, you know I’ll understand. If you’re very tired or blue, or upset in any other way, it’s hard to write. In my own case it’s different. I can usually write almost any time of the day or evening. If I happen to be blue or discouraged (I’m never physically tired), I wait and sure enough, later in the day I feel better and then I write. And I know I have more time than you, anyway.

You wrote in one of your letters that you had had a serious talk with your parents about us, dear. I’m glad that the result was pleasant and satisfying, as you put it. They’re right about dating, and I believe I’ve expressed myself on that score before, sweetheart, so enough said. I will say this. I marvel at your will power and lack of desire to go out. It so chimes with my own feelings, that I’m amazed at it all. We must really be in love, dear, and for that I’m glad.

You mention in the same letter about your hesitancy in going over to my house too often. We’ve been very frank with each other, so frank – that I mentioned the matter even before you did – but only in anticipation, dear, of your reaction. Engaged – or unengaged, it makes little difference to me or my folks. You’ve met my family enough times now to know how plain and real they are. The fact is, I brought you to my house in the first place. That meant a great deal to them, because unlike many fellows, I was not in the habit of bringing girls to my home. You can verify that very easily. So that it was sort of understood that when I did bring a girl to meet my folks, it meant that that was the girl I intended to marry. I know my folks understand that just as I’ve explained that to you now. Please feel free in every sense of the word to visit my house as often as you can. As a matter of fact – if my folks don’t invite you very often – it’s because they don’t want you to think that they are taking too much for granted from you. I know – they’re like that. I’m sure they love you, darling, because that’s what I hear in every letter, and I know nothing will please them more than our marriage.

Last night was another quiet night, dear. One of the officers from the other half of our battalion came over and we played cribbage and sipped beer. I heard a re-broadcast of a Dinah Shore program and also one by Xavier Cugat. I enjoyed one number particularly – ‘Green Eyes’. Today I shall read and relax again. I’m amazed at my lack of boredom. I enjoy sitting around without bothering to ‘dress-up’. Incidentally, you’ll have trouble with me when we’re married, darling, trying to get me to do just that. I love to hang around in old sport shoes, baggy flannels – and guess what – my new sweater of course!!

Well, Sweetheart, that’s all for now I guess. I hope to hear from you again today – although I can’t kick if I don’t. Best regards to everyone and all my love is yours, darling, all of it.

Greg

* TIDBIT *

Xavier Cugat and his Waldorf Astoria Orchestra
Perform Green Eyes


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