438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
2 February, 1944 1030
Dearest sweetheart -
I thought I’d start a letter to you now, although I probably won’t be able to finish it until after lunch. I’m waiting for a jeep to take me to some of the sections, but my driver won’t be back for about half an hour. I have just finished a lecture on “shock, hemorrhage” etc.
I’m looking at you right now, dear, and funny thing – you’re looking right back. Did you notice that – about your picture? No matter what angle I look at it from – you’re always looking right back at me. Darling – I can’t thank you enough for that picture. It’s made a new man out of me. I can visualize you so much better than before – it’s wonderful! And as I write – you’re looking at me as if in approval – dear.
I was interested in your remarks about censorship, darling. I’m actually surprised that more of my letters haven’t been opened. Every letter written by an enlisted man is censored, of course (I have to censor my detachment’s mail), but they only spot check the officers’ mail. I can’t seem to remember my writing you any telephone number dear. You wrote you found it cut out. At any rate – they’re not cutting out very much and all in all – censorship rules in this theater aren’t too strict – unless you try to be too specific.
Last night, dearest, the Special Service officer arranged for a movie – just for our outfit. It was ‘This is the Army” – and somehow or other – I hadn’t seen it. I really liked it although some parts of it made me very homesick. It was well done and the song numbers are by now old favorites. It helped kill an evening. It was over by 2130. We then went back to quarters and sat around and talked. Where I’m situated right now – there’s an awfully nice officer. Jim Copleston by name. He’s a graduate of Fordham and went to Law School after that. He lives in Manhattan – and is well read etc. I’ve had some pleasant chats with him. The reason I haven’t had much chance to get to know him was that I’ve always been with Hq and he – with a line battery. For the time being – we’re together. Have to leave now – dear –
Well I did what I had to do – had lunch and I’m ready to continue. I was telling you about Jim. I find him interesting because he seems to have a good talking knowledge of books, art and music – besides having a good sense of humor. He’s a good Catholic, by the way, and the only man I ever knew that came out of Fordham with some knowledge of the arts. It’s been nice to have some talks with him, dear. He has a girl at home who is waiting to marry him. After the war, darling, if we occasionally take a trip to New York – Jim will be a nice fellow to look up.
That reminds me, dear – I haven’t heard from Stan in quite a while – although I should – one of these days. I wonder how things are really going with him and Shirley. Anything new? Also – how about Betty and Les? Did he get home or furlough, did she go down to see him – or what? I suppose you’ve told me all about it – but I happened to think about it. And did Fran get married the 15th of January – or am I thinking of something else? And when would you like to get married, darling? Will any day or month do? Remember – when the time comes, sweetheart – you name it – and it will be all right with me – just so long as you don’t put it off too far.
Well, dear, for now there really doesn’t seem to be anything of news to write about. The winter here is passing swiftly away and soon something is bound to happen. The quicker the better – as I see it, because the sooner it starts, the sooner we’ll all be home. The mere thought makes me tingle. It’s so obscure right now, but sweetheart – it has to come. Someday I’ll get off a boat and head for you and home. What lies in between – is not for us to know right now – but darling, I’ll go on thinking and dreaming and loving you and then one day, I won’t have to think or dream – just love, and when that day comes, dear, we’ll know our prayers were heard and answered. For now, dearest – all my sincerest
I thought I’d start a letter to you now, although I probably won’t be able to finish it until after lunch. I’m waiting for a jeep to take me to some of the sections, but my driver won’t be back for about half an hour. I have just finished a lecture on “shock, hemorrhage” etc.
I’m looking at you right now, dear, and funny thing – you’re looking right back. Did you notice that – about your picture? No matter what angle I look at it from – you’re always looking right back at me. Darling – I can’t thank you enough for that picture. It’s made a new man out of me. I can visualize you so much better than before – it’s wonderful! And as I write – you’re looking at me as if in approval – dear.
I was interested in your remarks about censorship, darling. I’m actually surprised that more of my letters haven’t been opened. Every letter written by an enlisted man is censored, of course (I have to censor my detachment’s mail), but they only spot check the officers’ mail. I can’t seem to remember my writing you any telephone number dear. You wrote you found it cut out. At any rate – they’re not cutting out very much and all in all – censorship rules in this theater aren’t too strict – unless you try to be too specific.
Last night, dearest, the Special Service officer arranged for a movie – just for our outfit. It was ‘This is the Army” – and somehow or other – I hadn’t seen it. I really liked it although some parts of it made me very homesick. It was well done and the song numbers are by now old favorites. It helped kill an evening. It was over by 2130. We then went back to quarters and sat around and talked. Where I’m situated right now – there’s an awfully nice officer. Jim Copleston by name. He’s a graduate of Fordham and went to Law School after that. He lives in Manhattan – and is well read etc. I’ve had some pleasant chats with him. The reason I haven’t had much chance to get to know him was that I’ve always been with Hq and he – with a line battery. For the time being – we’re together. Have to leave now – dear –
1300
Hello – darling!Well I did what I had to do – had lunch and I’m ready to continue. I was telling you about Jim. I find him interesting because he seems to have a good talking knowledge of books, art and music – besides having a good sense of humor. He’s a good Catholic, by the way, and the only man I ever knew that came out of Fordham with some knowledge of the arts. It’s been nice to have some talks with him, dear. He has a girl at home who is waiting to marry him. After the war, darling, if we occasionally take a trip to New York – Jim will be a nice fellow to look up.
That reminds me, dear – I haven’t heard from Stan in quite a while – although I should – one of these days. I wonder how things are really going with him and Shirley. Anything new? Also – how about Betty and Les? Did he get home or furlough, did she go down to see him – or what? I suppose you’ve told me all about it – but I happened to think about it. And did Fran get married the 15th of January – or am I thinking of something else? And when would you like to get married, darling? Will any day or month do? Remember – when the time comes, sweetheart – you name it – and it will be all right with me – just so long as you don’t put it off too far.
Well, dear, for now there really doesn’t seem to be anything of news to write about. The winter here is passing swiftly away and soon something is bound to happen. The quicker the better – as I see it, because the sooner it starts, the sooner we’ll all be home. The mere thought makes me tingle. It’s so obscure right now, but sweetheart – it has to come. Someday I’ll get off a boat and head for you and home. What lies in between – is not for us to know right now – but darling, I’ll go on thinking and dreaming and loving you and then one day, I won’t have to think or dream – just love, and when that day comes, dear, we’ll know our prayers were heard and answered. For now, dearest – all my sincerest
Love
Greg.
* TIDBIT *
about This is the Army
about This is the Army
This Is the Army (1943) had a thin romantic plot which provided a thread on which to hang a musical revue sung and danced by more than 300 real American soldiers, with 17 Irving Berlin songs providing the score. The picture was made by Warner Brothers by special arrangement with the War Department as a morale booster and to raise money to help soldiers and their families by way of the Army Emergency Relief organization. Insisting on integration, Berlin was allowed to include African American performers. Although this was not new for Berlin, it certainly was for the segregated United States Army. As a compromise, no Whites and African Americans appeared on stage simultaneously.
The movie started as a 1942 Broadway musical, but its origins went back to Irving Berlin's World War I stage hit Yip Yip Yaphank, an all-soldier revue (about his outfit in Yaphank, New York) that lifted public morale in its own time. In This Is the Army, Berlin followed his previous model, updating it with new songs and a reworked plot. Like Yip Yip Yaphank, the new production concerned a Broadway producer putting on a variety show performed by soldiers who march off to war at the end of the show.
The Broadway version of This Is the Army opened on July 4, 1942, employing a cast of over 300 actual soldiers who formed a real Army unit. Soon it went on the road. Meanwhile, Berlin sold the show to Jack Warner and the movie production was begun. The soldier cast set up a military barracks near the Burbank studio, and they marched to work in formation every morning at 6 a.m.
Joining the military cast were actors George Murphy and Ronald Reagan, playing father and son. Also appearing in the picture were Kate Smith, Frances Langford, boxer Joe Louis, and Irving Berlin, himself, singing "Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning." Here he sings that song:
Kate Smith performed "God Bless America," her signature song, which Berlin originally wrote in 1918 but which only made its public debut in 1938 on Kate Smith's radio program. For the movie, Smith recreated her famous introduction to the song. Here is the clip:
The movie was not the end of the show, however. After production, the Army again took the stage show on the road, touring England and then the battlefronts of North Africa, Italy, the Middle East, and the Pacific Theater, with stops in New Guinea, the Philippines, Okinawa and Iwo Jima. The final stop was Hawaii, and the final performance was on Maui on October 22, 1945. Berlin accompanied the show on this world tour, continuing to sing his song on stage at every performance. In the end, This Is the Army was seen by some 2.5 million soldiers. The movie and stage show combined to bring in nearly $10 million for Army Emergency Relief.
The movie started as a 1942 Broadway musical, but its origins went back to Irving Berlin's World War I stage hit Yip Yip Yaphank, an all-soldier revue (about his outfit in Yaphank, New York) that lifted public morale in its own time. In This Is the Army, Berlin followed his previous model, updating it with new songs and a reworked plot. Like Yip Yip Yaphank, the new production concerned a Broadway producer putting on a variety show performed by soldiers who march off to war at the end of the show.
The Broadway version of This Is the Army opened on July 4, 1942, employing a cast of over 300 actual soldiers who formed a real Army unit. Soon it went on the road. Meanwhile, Berlin sold the show to Jack Warner and the movie production was begun. The soldier cast set up a military barracks near the Burbank studio, and they marched to work in formation every morning at 6 a.m.
Joining the military cast were actors George Murphy and Ronald Reagan, playing father and son. Also appearing in the picture were Kate Smith, Frances Langford, boxer Joe Louis, and Irving Berlin, himself, singing "Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning." Here he sings that song:
Kate Smith performed "God Bless America," her signature song, which Berlin originally wrote in 1918 but which only made its public debut in 1938 on Kate Smith's radio program. For the movie, Smith recreated her famous introduction to the song. Here is the clip:
The movie was not the end of the show, however. After production, the Army again took the stage show on the road, touring England and then the battlefronts of North Africa, Italy, the Middle East, and the Pacific Theater, with stops in New Guinea, the Philippines, Okinawa and Iwo Jima. The final stop was Hawaii, and the final performance was on Maui on October 22, 1945. Berlin accompanied the show on this world tour, continuing to sing his song on stage at every performance. In the end, This Is the Army was seen by some 2.5 million soldiers. The movie and stage show combined to bring in nearly $10 million for Army Emergency Relief.
