438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
5 March, 1944 1045
Sunday morning
Wilma – darling –
Good morning! And how are you dear? The medium of even letter communication is wonderful – for not having read a letter from you for some time now makes me realize how much they help to keep us in close contact.
My leave is now more than half gone and I haven’t really done a thing – except to get hungry, I guess. You just can’t get anything to eat in a restaurant – no matter how good or bad. They call their food by fancy names, but it doesn’t help the quality or quantity. Incidentally – practically every menu is in French and before long I may get to know something about them. Another thing about English restaurants and hotels – the waiters are always dressed full-dress, no matter how small or unpretentious the place. It’s almost ridiculous to walk into a small, sometimes shabby eating place and have the waiter appear with white-tie and tails.
Yesterday, Sweetheart, I didn’t do very much except wander around some more. One thing struck me as I window-shopped and walked through the department stores – and that was the price of women’s clothes. Hats range from three guineas upwards. (A guinea is $4.25) What looks like a simple little frock made out of some kind of wool crepe, I presume, sells for 20 guineas; but sweaters that go with a skirt sell for 2 and 3 guineas. I don’t know how women can buy any clothes at such prices and I can understand now why so many of them are dressed so shabbily.
As I started to say, dear, I got up late yesterday and decided to hunt up a Chinese restaurant – just so my stomach would seem full – even for 2 hours. I finally did eat at one and then went down to Piccadilly to look around. I noticed one theater was showing Luise Rainer in ‘Hostages’ which must have played in the States some time ago – but I decided to see it anyway. It wasn’t too good, I thought. The suspense was well created in a couple of scenes – but there wasn’t much room for dramatic presentation – which is what I expected from Rainer. She looked terrible in it – as a matter of fact.
When I got out – I sought out the Army Post Office so that I could mail the letter I had written you earlier. In the evening I looked for a decent place to eat and found a Russian restaurant with excellent food. It tasted more nearly like home cooking than anything I’ve had since I left home. I then came back here and after having a couple of rums – went to bed.
Today I haven’t the vaguest idea of what I shall do – but it really doesn’t make much difference, darling. I’m only marking time. The last time I heard from you, dear, was your V -letter of February 14th. You mentioned my folks – and your folks – and visits etc. – and you can well imagine, sweetheart, how much I’ve been thinking about all that and wondering how everything is working out. I shan’t rest peaceful, dear, until I can really call you my fiancée and I’m just waiting until I hear from you – the go ahead signal.
Meanwhile, darling, I’m sitting tight but my love isn’t; it just keeps on growing and growing and I can’t and don’t want to do anything about it. It’s a wonderful feeling which I know you share, too.
I’ll stop for now, dear, and I’ll write again. I hope all is well with you and your folks. Send them my fondest regards – and for now – so long and
Good morning! And how are you dear? The medium of even letter communication is wonderful – for not having read a letter from you for some time now makes me realize how much they help to keep us in close contact.
My leave is now more than half gone and I haven’t really done a thing – except to get hungry, I guess. You just can’t get anything to eat in a restaurant – no matter how good or bad. They call their food by fancy names, but it doesn’t help the quality or quantity. Incidentally – practically every menu is in French and before long I may get to know something about them. Another thing about English restaurants and hotels – the waiters are always dressed full-dress, no matter how small or unpretentious the place. It’s almost ridiculous to walk into a small, sometimes shabby eating place and have the waiter appear with white-tie and tails.
Yesterday, Sweetheart, I didn’t do very much except wander around some more. One thing struck me as I window-shopped and walked through the department stores – and that was the price of women’s clothes. Hats range from three guineas upwards. (A guinea is $4.25) What looks like a simple little frock made out of some kind of wool crepe, I presume, sells for 20 guineas; but sweaters that go with a skirt sell for 2 and 3 guineas. I don’t know how women can buy any clothes at such prices and I can understand now why so many of them are dressed so shabbily.
As I started to say, dear, I got up late yesterday and decided to hunt up a Chinese restaurant – just so my stomach would seem full – even for 2 hours. I finally did eat at one and then went down to Piccadilly to look around. I noticed one theater was showing Luise Rainer in ‘Hostages’ which must have played in the States some time ago – but I decided to see it anyway. It wasn’t too good, I thought. The suspense was well created in a couple of scenes – but there wasn’t much room for dramatic presentation – which is what I expected from Rainer. She looked terrible in it – as a matter of fact.
When I got out – I sought out the Army Post Office so that I could mail the letter I had written you earlier. In the evening I looked for a decent place to eat and found a Russian restaurant with excellent food. It tasted more nearly like home cooking than anything I’ve had since I left home. I then came back here and after having a couple of rums – went to bed.
Today I haven’t the vaguest idea of what I shall do – but it really doesn’t make much difference, darling. I’m only marking time. The last time I heard from you, dear, was your V -letter of February 14th. You mentioned my folks – and your folks – and visits etc. – and you can well imagine, sweetheart, how much I’ve been thinking about all that and wondering how everything is working out. I shan’t rest peaceful, dear, until I can really call you my fiancée and I’m just waiting until I hear from you – the go ahead signal.
Meanwhile, darling, I’m sitting tight but my love isn’t; it just keeps on growing and growing and I can’t and don’t want to do anything about it. It’s a wonderful feeling which I know you share, too.
I’ll stop for now, dear, and I’ll write again. I hope all is well with you and your folks. Send them my fondest regards – and for now – so long and
All my love
Greg
* TIDBIT *
about Luise Rainer
CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE
Oscar Homolka, Luise Rainer and Arturo de Cordova
in a publicity still for Hostages (1943)
about Luise Rainer
CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE
Oscar Homolka, Luise Rainer and Arturo de Cordova
in a publicity still for Hostages (1943)
From the Alt Film Guide Blog comes this:
Because of both her longevity and the fact that Turner Classic Movies now shows nearly all of her films with a certain regularity, the Dusseldorf-born (some sources say Vienna) Rainer is probably better known today than at any time since the 1940s, when she last starred in a Hollywood production, the minor Paramount resistance drama Hostages(1943).
Before this current revival, Rainer was best remembered as the two-time Oscar winner with a four-year film career (1935-1938), while her acting was generally dismissed as several notches below sub-par. In fact, to many she served as one of the prime reminders of the unworthiness of the Academy Awards.
As the oft-told story goes, when Raymond Chandler got himself all worked up about his Oscar prospects in the mid-'40s, his wife told him not to take those things so seriously: "After all, Luise Rainer won it twice."
Before this current revival, Rainer was best remembered as the two-time Oscar winner with a four-year film career (1935-1938), while her acting was generally dismissed as several notches below sub-par. In fact, to many she served as one of the prime reminders of the unworthiness of the Academy Awards.
As the oft-told story goes, when Raymond Chandler got himself all worked up about his Oscar prospects in the mid-'40s, his wife told him not to take those things so seriously: "After all, Luise Rainer won it twice."
