21 October, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 21, 1943    0720

Dear Sweetheart -

With the swiftness of the wind must I make with the pen right now – or I won’t make the early Pony Express. To wit – the Colonel and I are due at AAA headquarters at 0750 and the time seems to be flying – like the beat of my heart – for example, dear.

It was nice talking with you dear, last nite. I was kind of lonesome when I first spoke with you, but you helped me feel much better. We went directly home after I called you a second time – and got a reasonably good night’s sleep.

My throat is peculiar. It waxes and wanes from hour to hour – and I don’t know when something is going to come out or not. I’m sure it will straighten out in a day or two. At the prices they’re paying me – I’m a sucker to exert myself. I’m letting the other boys do the yelling now. All I have to do is walk around the theater and wake up the sleeping. It’s really not hard work. After the second awakening – we make them stand up for the rest of the lecture. It’s baby stuff – but it may mean a man’s life someday. It’s a sure bet – they won’t know how to take care of themselves if they’re sleeping while being told how.

How did I get on that subject, dear? Last night I believe I dreamed about us for 3-4 hours in a row. It was all one big jumble, but you were always there and the general vein of the dream was a happy one, darling.

I’m interested, dear, in what your mother had to say and how she happened to ask you to come in. I can’t wait to see you again, sweetheart, whenever it is. It’s already Thursday and no news, so I think everything is all set.

Darling I’ll have to close now. Here’s looking forward to seeing you very soon and giving you something more material than just written love. Until then, dear

All my love

Greg

20 October, 1943 (Postcard)

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

Written upon arrival home from the Coonamessett Club

"Coonamessett Club, Hatchville, Near Falmouth, Mass."


* TIDBIT *

about The Coonamessett Club

Hatchville is one of eight named villages within the incorporated town of Falmouth, Massachusetts. Beginning in 1917, under Directors Charles Crane, Richard Crane, Wilfrid Wheeler and the Leatherbee brothers, farming began on the improved Chadwick farm site at the north end of the 158-acre Coonamessett Pond, in Hatchville. The Chadwick farmhouse was converted in 1926 to the Coonamessett Inn, with ten overnight rooms and dining facilities. By 1933 the Resort had an eighteen-hole golf course and clubhouse, a polo field, tennis courts, riding stable, an airport on the north side of Coonamessett Road, and seaplanes on Coonamessett Pond.

Charles Cranes' children, Frances A. Crane and her brother John O. Crane built 25 pre-fabricated, heated cottages near the Inn in February, 1941. And four months later, on the east side of Coonamessett Pond they built the Coonamessett Club, which was filled with servicemen for nearly three years. The popular Club was a big New England barn replete with dance floor/skating rink, bowling alleys, game room, dining room and lounge. In 1949, the Club was transformed into the 650-seat Falmouth Playhouse for summer stock productions. The Falmouth Playhouse was still a popular nightspot until destroyed by fire in February 1994.

20 October, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 20, 1943    0800

Dear Sweetheart –

Again it was wonderful talking with you, dear, although seeing you in person is oh – so much better. I had just come back from the movies when I called you. The picture, by the way, was rancid – “Tornado”, and should have been swept away while being made. At any rate it helped kill a couple of hours, dear.

I enjoyed your letter very much, too, darling – and it was a longie at that; I’m glad that you feel certain, dear, about me. That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear from you – and I know also that my own love for you is deep, sincere and will be everlasting. I’m as positive about that, darling, as I’ve ever been of anything important in my life so far.

The making of your record, dear, sounded amusing and I know you’re being modest when you compare your voice to that of Marjorie Mills. I’m sure it’s more like Lyn Fontaine or Gertrude Lawrence. However – if it is in fact like Marj. Mills’ voice – “Well, dear,” he said with his tongue in his cheek, “Marj. Mills’ voice is the sweetest on the radio.” Well, now that I got that out of my system, I can go on.

I shall be glad to meet the fellow you mentioned, dear, and do whatever I can to help him if he needs help. I’m particularly anxious to see whether he shakes. (You called him jerky.)

Today, dear, is just another day except that it’s Wednesday and we have no classes. That means that Charlie W., Pete, Bill S., Bruce S. and one or two others will go down to the Coon Club, have dinner, a few Martinis and spend a quiet evening. We usually return about 2300. It’s good relaxation.

Incidentally, darling, I was amused at your calling me ‘conservative’. I can be as radical, unconventional, (I could even add immoral) as anyone I know. I know I’ve been somewhat conservative with you, but I want you to be aware of my capabilities (or shortcomings). As for coming down to Edwards, dear, – I would love to have you spend the week-end with me; – I guess you know that. I object only to the inconvenience to you in getting here and leaving here. The connections are really very poor. I’d much rather meet you in Providence, for that matter – but that also presents problems of one sort or another. As a matter of fact – I’d just as soon go up to Holyoke – and this time – alone. We could really be together, by ourselves – and for the greatest length of time. I don’t mind the drive at all. If there’s any doubt in your mind at all about your going home – tell me, Sweetheart – and we’ll spend the week-end together in Holyoke. I know my folks won’t mind as long as I tell them I’m spending the week-end with you. Think it over, dear, and anything you say is fine with me.

Darling – I’ll stop now. It’s 0845 – with all the delays etc. and I want to get his off. I’ll call you this evening and I’m just hoping nothing new develops. Keep your fingers crossed.

So long for now and

All my love

Greg

19 October, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 19, 1943    0715

Dearest Girl –

It is now 0755. I got as far as the salutation and then had to see a few sick soldiers. I’m back at my desk again, dear, and will try to write fast enough to get this out in the early mail.

It was swell talking with you, darling, as it always is of course – but somehow or other, each week-end has brought us closer together, and the last week-end was certainly no hindrance. It’s been steady and gradual, and I think – sensible. So that I can’t help but experience a sense of responsibility, possession, – a “you-belong-to-me” feeling. You don’t mind, dear, do you? I hope you feel the same about me.

Ordinarily – today and yesterday would have been dull and gray. It’s raining a steady drizzle, but I don’t feel blue or lonesome, at all, dear – and I have you to thank for that.

Last night, as I told you, dear – a hike was canceled because of rain. A couple of us went to the movies at 2000. We saw “Girl Crazy” with M. Rooney and J. Garland. It was a typical musical – featuring old songs by the Gershwin Brothers. It was pretty good and had a fair amount of laughs.

I climbed into bed about 2215 and couldn’t (or wouldn’t) fall asleep. You’re really cutting down on my sleep, darling, because not only do I stay awake thinking, but I find myself waking up in the early hours of the morning – and I start where I left off the night before. But I wouldn’t miss it for anything dear.

Today – more lecturing, checking up, presenting a few cases before the C.D.D. Board (Certificate of Disability Discharge). I expect we’ll go on the hike tonite – if it stops raining.

Again, darling, no news so far this morning, and I don’t want to be quoted – but I’d just as soon never get any. But I’m afraid, dear – that the war wouldn’t be won that way. My only hope is that it won’t be as long as some of the pessimists indicate it might be. I want to come back to those I love (Oh – what a prominent place you occupy, dearest!) and get started on life with you. You know, dear – I never proposed to you formally, and I don’t think I ever will have to. But it seems to me that after going out with you about the 3rd time – I felt I’d like to marry you, and as I recall it – I told you so – in one way or another – I never dreamed, really, that I could encroach on your life, I never thought I would be so fortunate as to win your love. I’m a very lucky guy and I’m very very happy dear. I see no reason why everything shouldn’t work out the way we want it to, God-willing. Anyway I pray for it every night, and I feel that although I haven’t been the best man in the Lord’s eyes I can’t be very bad fundamentally – and that therefore my prayers will be answered.

Well, Sweetheart – I’d better stop and get this mailed. I’ll call you at 2200 tonite and I do love you more and more each day, dear.

My deepest love

Greg.

18 October, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 18, 1943    0620

Darling Wilma -

I like to put ‘Wilma’, after ‘darling’. You know why? That’s so I can write ‘darling’ with a capital letter. That’s perfectly clear, now – I hope.

Well, Sweetheart – I came close to calling you at school last night, just to say ‘hello!’ I know I had seen you a good part of the day, etc. – but I felt very happy and wanted to tell you so. But for the life of me – when 1000-1015 came along – I found I had a half dollar, two dimes – and no more change . No one else was in the barracks, and of course – there isn’t a thing open in camp at that hour. I was almost tempted to reverse the charge – but thought better of that plan immediately. Anyway, dear, I felt like talking with you.

This past week-end, dearest, was wonderful in every respect and seemed to be a natural culmination of what we both want. Nothing pleases a fellow who loves a girl (and I do love you, dear) more than to know that besides the love of the girl – he has at least the respect of her folks, and to know that your folks don’t object to me, not passively as before, but actively, naturally is what I wanted most, next to your love. I know they won’t be sorry.

I took my time going back, dear, and as I’ve said, found no one here. From what I gathered so far this a.m. (and it’s not much – as you can see by the hour) – nothing new has come up. But oh, darling, it’s going to be so difficult when something does turn up. I hate to think of it, especially when I know it’s so near.

I haven’t gone to breakfast as yet. There’s no one in the dispensary right now – and I thought I could commune with you in writing more quietly now, than later. Also at 0800 I have an appointment at the Dental clinic to have my teeth cleaned. I have broken this – or other appointments, rather – on 3 occasions, so I’m going to try to make this one today. I don’t have to lecture until 1300 – so I’m all set for the morning.

Darling, at the cost of repeating myself (as lovers do, I think – and I can see why) I want to tell you again that I’m very very happy that things have worked out as they have, that I love you and find my love returned, that you like my folks, and they you – and about your folks, too. All these things I will have to think about in days when I can do nothing but think – and the thoughts will help carry me through, I know.

I’ll call you tonight, darling, and I hope dear that your cold is much better! That’s all for now, dear and remember you’ll always have my deepest and sincerest love.

Greg

14 October, 1943

[Note from FOURTHCHILD:
Oops! Thought I'd posted this on the 14th and neglected to check.]

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 14, 1943    0655

Dearest Girl -

I’ll be writing swiftly again today, dear, because I have another lecture this morning from 0730 – 0830 (and Friday too, incidentally.) I got here this a.m. a little bit earlier so that I could get started.

I was glad to hear, darling, that you were feeling better; but I don’t like the idea that you still have a temperature. So take care of yourself until you are afebrile, will you dear?

Last night after I spoke with you – we had a songfest, about ½ dozen of us, in the shower room. About 8:30 p.m. we decided to go over to the Coon Club and relax awhile. So we did and had a few. Nothing strenuous, dear – nothing strenuous. We got back a little after midnight. Incidentally, Sweetheart, have you by any chance noticed the moon these past few nights? It’s very very aggravating to be alone on such nights, dear, but having someone dear to think of – helps a great deal.

I believe I told you, darling, about the gas – I hope I get the tickets on Friday. Your last letter, Sweetheart, was frank, but so are you and I love you for that as well as for many other reasons. Remember that I’m not used to telling girls I love them and inherently I’m perhaps less outwardly affectionate than you, dear – but I still don’t think you’ll find me wanting.

Darling I know this is short – but I’ve got to go now. I’ll tell you all the nice things I think of when I see you Saturday night, and that day can’t come too soon for me. Until tonight, then, darling – so long and

All my love

Greg.

13 October, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

Camp Edwards, Mass

Oct. 13, 1943    0725

Darling Wilma –

I was surprised, sorry and worried to hear that you were ill and I do hope that by now your throat is greatly improved. With your tonsil tabs removed – you shouldn’t be getting sore throats, dear, but I will say this – your cigarette smoking is certainly a contributory factor. Anyway, dear, I hope you are feeling better by now.

As you know, I had to attend a Court Martial last night. It lasted until 2200, and just in time for bed. This a.m., Sweetheart, I really feel rested for the first time this week – and by week-end’s time, I’ll be raring to go – so you had better be cured!

Your mention of writing to your folks, dear, worried me a little, in view of what you had to say concerning your feelings towards them Sunday night. I hope you didn’t write anything to hurt their feelings or antagonize them in any way. That is not the way to approach the matter at all – as of course you know, dear.

This morning, darling, our sick call is tremendous, so I’m beginning to suspect a bit of Gold-bricking. If so, I have the medicine necessary to prevent a recurrence.

And so help me, dear, I have not yet gone over to the car to look for your bars. I don’t think I’ll find them there, though – because I was in the car Monday a.m. and didn’t notice a thing.

Concerning this week-end, Sweetheart, – right now I see no reason why I won’t be off. Remember, always though – this is the Army. I can’t foresee any complication right now. It will certainly be a treat to be able to get in again. I’ve applied for gas. The rationing board is here on the Post, and with my tongue in my cheek, I wrote that I see Officers’ wives and children off the Post when they’re sick. I do, actually, but in Govt. transportation. Shh!

Darling – I’ll stop now and I’m looking forward to calling you later today. I hope you’re feeling much better, dear – and please take care of yourself. So long for now and

All my love

Greg.