438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster N.Y.
England
Saturday, January 1, 1944 1500
Wilma darling –
Here it is another year started and I’m not around to start it with you dear. Whenever I next see you again will be the real start of the year for me, I know.
I wrote you about how I celebrated New Year’s Eve last night. I guess it was the sanest, safest, soberest New Year’s I’ve spent since I was eleven years old. We broke up the “party” at 0030 or thereabouts and went to bed. We didn’t have to get up until 0800 as this is celebrated as a Holiday for American Soldiers. I don’t know if I mentioned it to you before, but the English people proper have no celebration that amounts to anything for New Year’s Eve – while in Scotland it’s practically a National Holiday.
After breakfast this a.m. I went to the hospital and saw a few cases, checked in at the Officers’ Club to pay my mess bill and Club dues and then came back here.
We have just started our own Officers’ Mess in a separate area that we have for ourselves. There are 10 of us in our headquarters section and we have a building just for ourselves. At one end of it we have comfortable stuffed chairs, tables, places to write and a radio. I’m in that part of the room now. It’s quite comfortable, dear, and warm. But there’s nothing here for lonesomeness – except what I’m doing now – writing.
We ate at 1300 and had an enormous turkey – done beautifully, with cranberry sauce, potatoes, peas, candied parsnips, turnips, giblet gravy and pudding; coffee or tea, of course. Before dinner the Colonel opened a bottle of Canadian Club Whiskey and we all had a drink. It was really very nice.
This place is going to be very comfortable and I think we’ll end up using our own Club as much as the Regular Club. The rest of the day will be quietly spent. There’ll probably be a bridge game later and so another day, sweetheart.
I’m finally planning to go to London this Monday with Pete (who sends his regards, darling) and probably one other officer. We are allowed a 48 hour pass every now and then and we’re taking ours. One of our officers is there for the week-end and is going to try and reserve a room or two for us at some Hotel. Talk about your luck, by the way. The officer I just mentioned is married to a nurse who is in the Army. She was with a General Hospital and they came to England several months ago. When he arrived here he found out where she was. She’s only about an hour’s ride from us and he’s spending his pass with her in London. He hasn’t seen her for about 6 months. I wonder if they’ll see any of the sights. I’d love to spend 48 hours with you, darling – in London or anywhere else for that matter – but why don’t I stop dreaming?
I’ve got to run along now, sweetheart, to see a sick soldier in one of our batteries. One of my men has just come in and told me about him; it sounds as if I’ll have to send him to the hospital. Meanwhile, darling I love your patience and good hopes which you show in your letters. It’s a wonderful reaction to be able to read your letters and find that you’re not discouraged and still care for me. It helps tremendously, darling, and I love you for it. In this next year – I hope you keep it up and don’t get tired. Be well, dearest, and my love for you is returned in full measure. I’ll write tomorrow, dear. Until then – you have
Here it is another year started and I’m not around to start it with you dear. Whenever I next see you again will be the real start of the year for me, I know.
I wrote you about how I celebrated New Year’s Eve last night. I guess it was the sanest, safest, soberest New Year’s I’ve spent since I was eleven years old. We broke up the “party” at 0030 or thereabouts and went to bed. We didn’t have to get up until 0800 as this is celebrated as a Holiday for American Soldiers. I don’t know if I mentioned it to you before, but the English people proper have no celebration that amounts to anything for New Year’s Eve – while in Scotland it’s practically a National Holiday.
After breakfast this a.m. I went to the hospital and saw a few cases, checked in at the Officers’ Club to pay my mess bill and Club dues and then came back here.
CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE
Officers' Mess Bill - AAF Station 595
December, 1943
Officers' Mess Bill - AAF Station 595
December, 1943
We have just started our own Officers’ Mess in a separate area that we have for ourselves. There are 10 of us in our headquarters section and we have a building just for ourselves. At one end of it we have comfortable stuffed chairs, tables, places to write and a radio. I’m in that part of the room now. It’s quite comfortable, dear, and warm. But there’s nothing here for lonesomeness – except what I’m doing now – writing.
We ate at 1300 and had an enormous turkey – done beautifully, with cranberry sauce, potatoes, peas, candied parsnips, turnips, giblet gravy and pudding; coffee or tea, of course. Before dinner the Colonel opened a bottle of Canadian Club Whiskey and we all had a drink. It was really very nice.
This place is going to be very comfortable and I think we’ll end up using our own Club as much as the Regular Club. The rest of the day will be quietly spent. There’ll probably be a bridge game later and so another day, sweetheart.
I’m finally planning to go to London this Monday with Pete (who sends his regards, darling) and probably one other officer. We are allowed a 48 hour pass every now and then and we’re taking ours. One of our officers is there for the week-end and is going to try and reserve a room or two for us at some Hotel. Talk about your luck, by the way. The officer I just mentioned is married to a nurse who is in the Army. She was with a General Hospital and they came to England several months ago. When he arrived here he found out where she was. She’s only about an hour’s ride from us and he’s spending his pass with her in London. He hasn’t seen her for about 6 months. I wonder if they’ll see any of the sights. I’d love to spend 48 hours with you, darling – in London or anywhere else for that matter – but why don’t I stop dreaming?
I’ve got to run along now, sweetheart, to see a sick soldier in one of our batteries. One of my men has just come in and told me about him; it sounds as if I’ll have to send him to the hospital. Meanwhile, darling I love your patience and good hopes which you show in your letters. It’s a wonderful reaction to be able to read your letters and find that you’re not discouraged and still care for me. It helps tremendously, darling, and I love you for it. In this next year – I hope you keep it up and don’t get tired. Be well, dearest, and my love for you is returned in full measure. I’ll write tomorrow, dear. Until then – you have
All my love
Greg.
P.S. I usually forget to send my regards to some of your relatives that I’ve met. It’s not because I don’t think of them, dear. Please send my regards to all of them that I know.
L,
Greg.
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