438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
20 March, 1944 1830
Dearest sweetheart –
Today has been a helluva long busy day – as was anticipated – with a busier one due tomorrow. As a matter of fact, darling, I won’t be able to write tomorrow but I will the day after, and I’ll be able to write a letter less mysteriously – not that there is anything particularly different – but I realize I’ve been sounding a little bit obscure. If so, dear, it’s because I’m trying to stay within the censorship rules.
Anyway – this morning we went up to battalion for another one of those meetings. We got back at noon and have been tearing around ever since. Our lights are out of order and it’s fast getting dark – so I’m writing more swiftly than usual, dear. Gosh darling, I love you so much and miss you so these days! I’m awaiting eagerly hearing from you and your folks in reply to my letters of over a week or so ago. The damn delay in time is so aggravating – and yet there isn’t a thing we can do about it – but wait. I haven’t heard from you now for 5 days, the longest stretch in some time. I should be getting a fairly recent letter soon. The last letter I got was written March 4th, but there are several before that that are still missing.
Last night George and I went into town – presumably to go to a movie – but the shows were terrible. On Sunday – all the theaters have a special program, one day only – and they show pictures that are years old, like “The Garden of Allah”, and George Brent in “Till We Meet Again.” I saw them both some time ago. So instead we went over to the Red Cross Club – for officers which opened in this town – quite recently. You know – most places have R.C. Clubs – only for enlisted men. It’s a relief to have a place to come to – just to lounge around. They serve meals and snacks all day – until 2400; there’s a large lounging room, with a Victrola and fairly new records; a ping-pong table and a lot of papers from the U.S. We stayed around until about 2230 and headed back for camp – really a couple of playboys.
It’s strange, sweetheart, how not hearing from you for several days makes me wonder what you’re doing and thinking. Despite the fact that letters get here about 2 weeks after they’re written, when you keep getting them – you feel you’re up to date. It’s just that I love to know just what your days are like – from day to day, and I feel cheated when I don’t hear. So I usually end up re-reading your older letters. Today I rounded up a stack of your letters and decided to put them into my trunk. You know, dearest, you’d be surprised what a dent they make in the space – but I don’t want to destroy them – because I love every one of them.
It’s getting very dark out now sweetheart and this kerosene lamp is blinking terribly – so I’ll stop here – not before reminding you, darling, that I’m very very much in love with you – or did I say that? It’s true, though, dear – wonderfully true – and I’m lucky to feel the way I do.
Send my best regards to your folks, sweetheart. I hope all is well at home and I hope to hear from you all – soon.
Today has been a helluva long busy day – as was anticipated – with a busier one due tomorrow. As a matter of fact, darling, I won’t be able to write tomorrow but I will the day after, and I’ll be able to write a letter less mysteriously – not that there is anything particularly different – but I realize I’ve been sounding a little bit obscure. If so, dear, it’s because I’m trying to stay within the censorship rules.
Anyway – this morning we went up to battalion for another one of those meetings. We got back at noon and have been tearing around ever since. Our lights are out of order and it’s fast getting dark – so I’m writing more swiftly than usual, dear. Gosh darling, I love you so much and miss you so these days! I’m awaiting eagerly hearing from you and your folks in reply to my letters of over a week or so ago. The damn delay in time is so aggravating – and yet there isn’t a thing we can do about it – but wait. I haven’t heard from you now for 5 days, the longest stretch in some time. I should be getting a fairly recent letter soon. The last letter I got was written March 4th, but there are several before that that are still missing.
Last night George and I went into town – presumably to go to a movie – but the shows were terrible. On Sunday – all the theaters have a special program, one day only – and they show pictures that are years old, like “The Garden of Allah”, and George Brent in “Till We Meet Again.” I saw them both some time ago. So instead we went over to the Red Cross Club – for officers which opened in this town – quite recently. You know – most places have R.C. Clubs – only for enlisted men. It’s a relief to have a place to come to – just to lounge around. They serve meals and snacks all day – until 2400; there’s a large lounging room, with a Victrola and fairly new records; a ping-pong table and a lot of papers from the U.S. We stayed around until about 2230 and headed back for camp – really a couple of playboys.
It’s strange, sweetheart, how not hearing from you for several days makes me wonder what you’re doing and thinking. Despite the fact that letters get here about 2 weeks after they’re written, when you keep getting them – you feel you’re up to date. It’s just that I love to know just what your days are like – from day to day, and I feel cheated when I don’t hear. So I usually end up re-reading your older letters. Today I rounded up a stack of your letters and decided to put them into my trunk. You know, dearest, you’d be surprised what a dent they make in the space – but I don’t want to destroy them – because I love every one of them.
It’s getting very dark out now sweetheart and this kerosene lamp is blinking terribly – so I’ll stop here – not before reminding you, darling, that I’m very very much in love with you – or did I say that? It’s true, though, dear – wonderfully true – and I’m lucky to feel the way I do.
Send my best regards to your folks, sweetheart. I hope all is well at home and I hope to hear from you all – soon.
All my love is yours – dear
Greg.
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