12 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Sunday, Dec 12, 1943    1150

England

Dearest and only Sweetheart –

Among so many other things I like about you is your artistic ability, darling – especially when you design intertwining hearts, one of which I always assume is yours, and the other – dare I say it – mine. I always look, dear, to see which has been pierced more severely by the arrow. The last set was a draw, if I may use the word, and that’s the way it should be. But seriously darling, I love it and keep it up.

After a long wait, dear, I got two more letters from you late yesterday. I read the earlier of the two and so help me I put the other aside for today and shall read it a little later. It’s hard to do, but it’s worth it for you see today I have something to look forward to.

I don’t know how long the mail situation will remain like this – but we’re getting ours in reverse. The last two letters I received were written the 7th and 8th of November. That about includes and concludes the interval between Edwards and you know what. Of course it doesn’t make any difference to me how I get my letters from you dear as long as I get them. I’m certain now though, that regardless of how long it takes, all our letters eventually reach us, and that’s a comforting thought.

Your letter of the 7th was a real “longie” as you put it, and I read it three times at the first sitting. That was the day your folks drove you back. I’m glad you drove, dear, and I hope you have your license to drive by the time I get back. It will be convenient because until I can get you a car of your own, you will want to use mine, while I’m having office hours or at the hospital etc. You also mention the lighter in that letter. I hope you are getting some use of it, darling.

Charlotte S. did sound dumb from the way you described her, especially when she said she was getting to forgetting her husband. Having a child and another one coming gave her so much to remember him by it seems to me. Concerning her description of the “1st week” which by the way has been told and retold by many a young bride – it’s a matter of point of view, as I look at it and always depends on the parties involved. For some reason or other it reminds me of the Gigolo in the Leper Colony who was doing all right until his business started falling off.

Well last night, instead of playing bridge as I wrote you I intended doing, I went into town. We send a convoy of trucks loaded with men into the nearest town. It leaves here at 1830 and leaves town at 2300. It’s the only means of transportation for the boys. An officer has to be in charge, and last night was my turn. Usually the great percentage head for the town hall where a public dance is held. I went up, as chaperone of course – because no other officer was present. Officers don’t go to the dance because it’s for enlisted men. It was an experience, dear. The girls looked as if they were anywhere from 13 to 17, which ought to make you feel pretty old, darling. (heh, heh.) Apparently there are far more girls around in this country, too – because they swarmed all over the men. (I was unmolested.) They seemed to follow American style dancing quite well – but the orchestra played too many waltzes to suit our boys. The girls cut in regularly on dancing couples and even on two girls dancing, if you can imagine it. I couldn’t help but feel sad for these girls. The past 4 years have been black ones for them, just when they should be enjoying life. The dresses are shabby, actually, and the shoes frayed. Many of them were wearing shoes with wooden soles, without heels. One of the drivers told me they had not had things like gum or peanuts for four years. If they haven’t had those things, you can imagine they’ve gone without much more. But you never hear any beefing and their spirit is admirable. It’s inconceivable when you’ve been here even a short while that Americans can enjoy so many luxuries. It’s truly a blessed and rich country we have and certainly well worth fighting for.

I know. I’ve spoken, or written rather, a great deal about the British and what few impressions I’ve received. I don’t know whether you find it interesting or not, dear. Tell me if I dwell too much on the subject. I don’t want to be boring.

By the way, you mention bashfulness or shyness or the possibility of it in my writing because of censorship. Well, what do you think, darling, am I? I’m not ashamed to say the things I want to, dear, no matter who reads my letters.

I’m anxiously awaiting your picture, dear. If I get anywhere near a place where I can have mine taken, I’ll do it.

Well Sweetheart, I’ve rambled enough for one sitting. It’s getting near lunch time – so I’ll close now. Darling I’m writing often and I hope you think so. I’ll continue to until war’s end – no fear about that. I love to write to you and I hope you find what I write interesting. I enjoy what letters I receive from you and I anxiously await each day’s mail. Keep them coming, darling, because I love you so very very much – I need them. Be well, darling, and you have

All my love, Sweetheart

Greg.