438th AAA AW BN
APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
6 April, 1944 ; 1245
Dearest sweetheart –
In writing you yesterday, I forgot to thank you for the package you sent me. I got it late yesterday afternoon and in excellent condition. I re-read the letter you sent me the day you finally sent it off and got another laugh. Couldn’t you get a larger bottle for the hair tonic, darling? You are either counting on a long war or you figure there’s still a chance. At any rate, dear, I shall find good use for it. The candy was perfect and I’m still enjoying it.
I’ve just had lunch. I have to be at the Dispensary in one hour and I’ll be busy most of the afternoon thereafter – so I thought I’d start writing you now. There was no mail yesterday – but that cablegram sure took the sting out of waiting – and now I’ve changed from a state of anxiety to one of pleasant curiosity. I’m still a little in a fog when I stop to realize what has happened or is happening to both of us – but it’s such a pleasant fog, darling. I hope your folks are genuinely convinced that it wasn’t the wrong decision to make. I feel that it wasn’t and I know you do. The rest is up to us – and we won’t let them down.
In one of your letters I received several days ago, darling, you tell me you’ve stored up a great deal of love for me. Well – that’s what I’m doing with my love for you, dear, storing it. That’s all we can do with our love – now, but I know it will be worth it. Just when I was getting so I could say nice things to you – I had to leave. You know, dear – I did tell you that it had always been rather difficult for me to sound affectionate etc. I was learning fast though. I don’t think it will take me long to pick up where I left off. You’ll be the judge of course – sweetheart – that is – if you’re still conscious when I’m through – and I’ll always be in love with you, too, dear – because I’m like my father a great deal and I know you’re aware of how much he’s still in love with my mother. It’s a wonderful example of what love should really be, dear, and I’ve had a good opportunity all my life to observe it.
You mentioned making a pair of socks for Mr. Clark. My own socks are in my trunk, dear. I’ve been reluctant to wear them very often because things get lost so darn easily in the Army – and I would like to bring them back with me for sentimental reasons.
In regards to Jane Austin’s works – for the time being, at any rate, I won’t be able to do very much. Where we’re situated now – it is out of the question altogether. I guess the only place you could find something well-bound would be in London – and my chances of getting back to visit there are appearing slimmer daily. But I’ll keep it in mind and might come across it some day by accident.
Darling – that’s all for now. I’ve got to go along. I hope to hear from you again soon, but I don’t mind waiting so much – now. Best regards home, dear and for the time being
In writing you yesterday, I forgot to thank you for the package you sent me. I got it late yesterday afternoon and in excellent condition. I re-read the letter you sent me the day you finally sent it off and got another laugh. Couldn’t you get a larger bottle for the hair tonic, darling? You are either counting on a long war or you figure there’s still a chance. At any rate, dear, I shall find good use for it. The candy was perfect and I’m still enjoying it.
I’ve just had lunch. I have to be at the Dispensary in one hour and I’ll be busy most of the afternoon thereafter – so I thought I’d start writing you now. There was no mail yesterday – but that cablegram sure took the sting out of waiting – and now I’ve changed from a state of anxiety to one of pleasant curiosity. I’m still a little in a fog when I stop to realize what has happened or is happening to both of us – but it’s such a pleasant fog, darling. I hope your folks are genuinely convinced that it wasn’t the wrong decision to make. I feel that it wasn’t and I know you do. The rest is up to us – and we won’t let them down.
In one of your letters I received several days ago, darling, you tell me you’ve stored up a great deal of love for me. Well – that’s what I’m doing with my love for you, dear, storing it. That’s all we can do with our love – now, but I know it will be worth it. Just when I was getting so I could say nice things to you – I had to leave. You know, dear – I did tell you that it had always been rather difficult for me to sound affectionate etc. I was learning fast though. I don’t think it will take me long to pick up where I left off. You’ll be the judge of course – sweetheart – that is – if you’re still conscious when I’m through – and I’ll always be in love with you, too, dear – because I’m like my father a great deal and I know you’re aware of how much he’s still in love with my mother. It’s a wonderful example of what love should really be, dear, and I’ve had a good opportunity all my life to observe it.
You mentioned making a pair of socks for Mr. Clark. My own socks are in my trunk, dear. I’ve been reluctant to wear them very often because things get lost so darn easily in the Army – and I would like to bring them back with me for sentimental reasons.
In regards to Jane Austin’s works – for the time being, at any rate, I won’t be able to do very much. Where we’re situated now – it is out of the question altogether. I guess the only place you could find something well-bound would be in London – and my chances of getting back to visit there are appearing slimmer daily. But I’ll keep it in mind and might come across it some day by accident.
Darling – that’s all for now. I’ve got to go along. I hope to hear from you again soon, but I don’t mind waiting so much – now. Best regards home, dear and for the time being
My sincerest love –
Greg.
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