438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
03 March, 1944 1500
Dearest Sweetheart,
It seems like ages since I wrote you last and yet I’ve only missed the past two days. I tried to write yesterday – but I guess I spent most of the day traveling. I am now sitting in my hotel room – using the same old G.I. stationery which I brought along. Hotels in England don’t supply you with writing paper.
Well, darling – I’m on my leave. How much of it I can tell you about while I’m on it – I really don’t know. There’s so many damn angles to censorship – that I think the censors themselves don’t know. At any rate, dear, I left camp Wednesday a.m. and traveled most of the day to get to my destination. I was disappointed when I arrived. In the first place it was very cold and a steady wind blew in from the Atlantic. The place was nothing more than Revere Beach, Mass. might be at this time of year – minus all the amusements. Desolate and bleak – is the only way to describe it and how I got roped into making that trip is beyond me. However – there was no way of getting back that night – so I stayed over, in a small private hotel – cold and dreary. About the only thing I can say for that day is that I passed through most of England and hit a few spots I hadn’t been to before – e.g. Stratford-on-Avon, Rugby and a couple of other spots.
Anyway, sweetheart, yesterday I got on a train and hot-footed it back to where I can see a little activity. That again – took almost the whole day. The trains just crawl along in this country and some of them stop almost as often as our street-cars. So here I am – checked in at a hotel – I’ve stayed here before – and I’m just going to take it easy. I’m going to try my best to see a couple of plays and perhaps get into Symphony on Sunday – but so far it’s been almost impossible. Beyond that, dear, I have no plans whatsoever, and I suppose that’s the best way to spend a leave. It’s good to be away from Camp and I can understand, I think, why the Army gives leaves more frequently in this theater than at home.
That’s about all the news there is, darling. I hadn’t heard from you for a couple of days when I left camp – and I’m expecting to find a nice set of letters from you – waiting for me. I can’t help but think how nice it would be if you were here with me, dear, just as once before – But there’ll come a day, sweetheart, and that’s what I’m living for. I love you, dear, and that’s all I think about – whether I’m in camp, on the train – or just wandering around. The thought of you never leaves me – and that’s good, isn’t it?
I’ll close now, dearest, and I’ll write again. For now – so long and
It seems like ages since I wrote you last and yet I’ve only missed the past two days. I tried to write yesterday – but I guess I spent most of the day traveling. I am now sitting in my hotel room – using the same old G.I. stationery which I brought along. Hotels in England don’t supply you with writing paper.
Well, darling – I’m on my leave. How much of it I can tell you about while I’m on it – I really don’t know. There’s so many damn angles to censorship – that I think the censors themselves don’t know. At any rate, dear, I left camp Wednesday a.m. and traveled most of the day to get to my destination. I was disappointed when I arrived. In the first place it was very cold and a steady wind blew in from the Atlantic. The place was nothing more than Revere Beach, Mass. might be at this time of year – minus all the amusements. Desolate and bleak – is the only way to describe it and how I got roped into making that trip is beyond me. However – there was no way of getting back that night – so I stayed over, in a small private hotel – cold and dreary. About the only thing I can say for that day is that I passed through most of England and hit a few spots I hadn’t been to before – e.g. Stratford-on-Avon, Rugby and a couple of other spots.
Anyway, sweetheart, yesterday I got on a train and hot-footed it back to where I can see a little activity. That again – took almost the whole day. The trains just crawl along in this country and some of them stop almost as often as our street-cars. So here I am – checked in at a hotel – I’ve stayed here before – and I’m just going to take it easy. I’m going to try my best to see a couple of plays and perhaps get into Symphony on Sunday – but so far it’s been almost impossible. Beyond that, dear, I have no plans whatsoever, and I suppose that’s the best way to spend a leave. It’s good to be away from Camp and I can understand, I think, why the Army gives leaves more frequently in this theater than at home.
That’s about all the news there is, darling. I hadn’t heard from you for a couple of days when I left camp – and I’m expecting to find a nice set of letters from you – waiting for me. I can’t help but think how nice it would be if you were here with me, dear, just as once before – But there’ll come a day, sweetheart, and that’s what I’m living for. I love you, dear, and that’s all I think about – whether I’m in camp, on the train – or just wandering around. The thought of you never leaves me – and that’s good, isn’t it?
I’ll close now, dearest, and I’ll write again. For now – so long and
All my love is yours,
Greg
Regards to everyone,
Love
G.
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