02 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Dec 2, 1943   1400

Somewhere in England

Dearest Sweetheart -

The sun is shining here today and it’s quite welcome. I wonder how your weather is. I hope that by graduation time the roads are nice and clear. I remember your plans included your folks driving up to Holyoke, with your Grandmother B. How is she, by the way, dear? When you next see her, give her my regards.

At the sake of being repetitious, darling, I’ll say again that I’ve had no mail from you or home – as yet. I don’t know why, because many of the other fellows are now receiving air-mail and V-mail quite regularly. So far Air-mail seems to be coming as swiftly as V-mail. I wonder if that’s true in the other direction. As soon as I hear from you, darling, I’ll let you know – so you can gather how long it takes. Since getting settled here – I’ve written you and my folks at least once per day and soon you should be hearing from me reasonably regularly. I know, Sweetheart, that you must be having a very busy time right now – and if you’re writing only when you have a chance – I understand perfectly, dear. Whenever it is – you can be sure I’ll be appreciative.

Yesterday I wrote you that the Battery Commanders were going out to dinner. The Col. came along too. After staggering thru the black-out we reached the village and passed thru a few alleys and got to the Inn. Many of these inns are in side streets. The place was very old and had 3-4 medium sized rooms where drinks were served, but there was no bar proper. In the room we sat down in – there was a nice large fireplace – with a swell fire going. We got there at 1830 and drank a few until 1930. Drinks are reasonable – only 1/8 for a very good rum – but no coke with it. We then had a steak, yes steak dinner – complete. I hardly believed that was possible in England. It was excellently served and was supposed to cost 7 shillings. Well – we had wine, and then a liqueur and anyway – we ended up paying a pound each which is 20 shillings – so somewhere along the way – the price went up very fast. But it was an enjoyable dinner. About 2130 – we went to an Episcopalian Church in the town. That is officially the Church of England, by the way. We were making arrangements for services for the boys on Sundays. We met a very interesting Vicar, dear – whose son is in the RAF and trained in Florida and Oklahoma. He showed us all over the place. It turned out that the church was one of the old ones in England – over 600 years old. It had been reformed but never rebuilt – and from a historical point of view, it was interesting in that Cromwell had kept political prisoners there. We finally left at 2230 and drove back here. So that’s how I spent my first nite out, darling. It was very relaxing and helped me quite a bit, because truth to tell – I was feeling somewhat low.

In the line of news, Sweetheart, I have nothing to offer. We are allowed 48 hour passes, but the U.S. is just out of reach on that. Some of the boys are planning to go to London one of these week-ends, and I may go with them, although I don’t believe it will be this week-end.

And so, darling, I’ll close again. I hope, dear, that all is well with you and your folks. Again – good luck in your exams and the sincerest wishes on your graduation, dear. Were I present – I would give you a hard kiss in front of everyone on Graduation Day. Remind me, dear – I’ll owe that one to you and will pay you with interest. So long

And as ever,

All my love

Greg

01 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Dec 1, 1943     1345

Somewhere in England

Dearest Girl -

Another day, and the same longing desire to hear from you. I sure do hope I will soon dear. It will be a great tonic.

You may have noticed that the return address on the envelope is printed, with my signature above it. That, darling, is the latest. I swear – before the war is over we’ll probably be writing the address underneath the stamp. Censorship is undoubtedly important, but I think they’re getting even themselves confused – let alone the enemy.

By the way – the margin left – at the left side of the envelope is to allow the censor to cut the edge, without destroying the return address. Am I leaving enough margin, and also in that connection – how often are the letters being opened, dear? I’m just curious as a matter of interest.

Well, Sweetheart, tonite being Wednesday – the old 438^th is just champing at the bit again. But there’s no Coonamessett Club out this way. Incidentally, I’m told that all the pubs carry signs saying there’s a fine for ‘pilfering’ glasses – so it’s going to be difficult to add to our collection. The last one I got was from the Hotel in N.Y. The reason I didn’t send it was because there was too much red tape involved in packing it and getting it censored. But I have it in my trunk and we’ll have it to add later on.

I started to write about Wed. night, dear. One of the Battery Commanders contacted an Inn about 5 miles from here and arranged for the 6 B.C.’s to have a duck dinner tonite. That will make the first nite out for me. They say these Inns are quaint, but dull. There’s no music and no one raises his voice. But it will get me out for a couple of hours anyway.

I’m still dreaming, darling – but last nite I got cheated; I didn’t dream of you. For some reason or other I dreamed about interning. I had just applied to the Mass. Gen. Hosp. – for a surgical appointment. Then there were a whole maze of events, and I’ll be damned if I know how it ended. I had been thinking of taking a course perhaps – after the war, and I imagine that’s how I dreamed about that.

You ought to be able by now, Sweetheart, to gather that all my time is projected beyond the present in everything I think or talk about. This is just a necessary part, I suppose – but as you suggested in a letter – the last act – a real longie, by the way, is yet to come. As a matter of fact – it’s so long, we’ll make a whole new play around it – but estranged from you, dear?? Never!

Well, darling – I’ve got some things to do. So long for now, Sweetheart – and all my deepest love

Greg

30 November, 1943 (2nd letter)

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster N.Y.

Nov 30, 1943    2230

Somewhere in England

Dearest

I have just written you a fairly long letter by air mail – but I keep thinking that perhaps V-mail is quicker. Just so you’ll start getting some mail sooner, I thought I’d jot down a few lines.

Things are moving about normally, dear, but somehow the war and all always seems to be in second place to you. If I hadn’t told you before that I love you – I’d probably say again that love is behind that feeling. Well – if love is strong enough to make a war take second place, I can’t see the sense to it, and so there’s another reason I hope they end it all soon.

I’ve written more in my letter, darling – but I guess it all adds up to the same – that I love you and miss you – and want you – and oh so many more things along the same theme. For now, that’s all dear and

All my love

Greg

30 November, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster N.Y.

Sunday, Nov. 30, 1943    2130

Somewhere in England

Dearest Darling –

Each day I want to write you by V-Mail and then I decide to use Air Mail. One day you hear there’s no difference – and another day that there’s no comparison. Today, for example dear – I was told by an officer at a place where I was getting supplies – that V-mail takes 8-12 days, and air mail takes 3-4 weeks. I don’t know what to think or do, darling. I’ll just have to wait until I hear from you. I’ll mix in a few V-mails every now and then just in case.

I’ve just got thru reading another one of your letters; Surprised, dear? Yes – I’ve kept a good many of them – for just such an emergency as going overseas, for example. The one I just read was written the night (Sunday) I left you at Wilder and headed for Edwards, after I spent the week-end at Holyoke. I could write that a different way, Sweetheart, but it would sound funny. It was written when you thought you wouldn’t see me again, although before the letter was finished, you had made up your mind that we could see each other the following Friday – this, mind you, dear, after we had decided that it wouldn’t be wise. I laughed when I read that the first time, and again just now – because I no sooner had left So. Hadley Center – when I had already decided the same. And we did get to see each other, not only Friday – but Saturday too. Was our final ‘so-long’ so casual? I don’t mean casual, darling, I mean easy. In a way, it was, because we had done it before. As I think of it now though I wonder how I ever left you, dear. Why are we always so appreciative of things distant? Or – more appreciative, I should say, because the Lord knows – I loved you deeply and appreciated you all the time I was with you. It’s probably because when you are actually with one you love – that the sensual plays such a strong role; when you are separated – you have time to think and evaluate and weigh, and as I do all that, darling, I become even more aware of you and your qualities and love you more fully. I hope I’m making myself clear. I know this, dear – I never felt like this before – ever; and I did have occasion to. I know I would have loved you as much anyway, but maybe the war is a good thing in a way. It gives you a chance to survey the whole picture from a distance, and gives you plenty of time, at that. My picture is a perfect one dear. If only yours ends up the same way – I know we’ll be very compatible and happy.

Today, Sweetheart, I did some more riding around in a jeep – on business. It was rather cold – but I made good use of my hood – which has, by the way, turned out to be a good investment. Every now and then I think of my car – our car (with the push-back seat, you know). I wonder what has happened to it. Then I wonder what kind we’ll get after the war. I’d like to stick to convertibles – if you don’t mind, dear.

Today – Pete (and he sends his regards) and I were talking about the end of the war and how soon a fellow gets out. I suppose it’s kind of early to be thinking about such things – but I see no harm. If you have something worth waiting for – you don’t mind, and darling, I have you. After the war – it takes time to demobilize an outfit – but I believe it’s done in the States. We could be married before my discharge, couldn’t we? The work is routine; there’s no pressure – and why wait? That could perhaps save several months. It’s something to think about. I’m just waiting for that day, darling when I can call you my wife.

I suppose I sound very sentimental etc. But whatever it is Sweetheart – I hope I sound sincere. I am.

Well – it’s late and I’m tired, darling, so I think I’ll stop now and go to bed. You are all I think about at bed-time dear and it’s a pleasant way of falling asleep. Isn’t it?

Good-night, dear – and you have all my love.

Greg.

This Ration Card was issued to Greg on November 30th
for the month of December, 1943. The first two columns
list items and their weekly allotments. Subsequent
columns represent each week and show what was allotted.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

29 November, 1943 (2nd letter)

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster N.Y.

Nov 29, 1943       2000

Somewhere in England

Dear Sweetheart –

I suppose if you were able to get my letters in sequence you’d be amused at the times I write. For instance, last night I wrote you a long letter, sealed it and then proceeded to write you a V-mail letter. I found little difficulty in having enough to write, dear. I wrote you a fairly long letter at about 1630-1700 this p.m. – and here I am writing again. If I tried to write you every time I thought of you – I’d be writing all day and would certainly cause a bottle-neck in the base censor’s office – so it’s a good thing, darling – that I have a couple of other things to do during the day.

Today I felt quite blue for a while, dear. Some of the men and officers got some mail – some dated as recently as Nov. 24. Charlie got two from his wife and one from his folks. They were all air mail and it seems wonderful to think that you can sometimes get mail within a week. They were all addressed with the old APO number. I would have given anything to have heard from you – but there wasn’t a thing for me. However – had I been the only one – I really would have felt bad, but several others didn’t hear and I guess there’s just no figuring how it works. I know you are writing and that’s what counts. I’m sure all your letters will eventually reach me, dear.

This evening we officially opened our officers’ mess, complete with bar. We had all contributed £1 (one pound or 4 dollars) to get a stock going. Then we pay for each individual drink and after the profits turn up – we’ll probably get our investment back. We’ve also given a sum for the purchase of eggs-in-the-shell, if possible; So far – no results. I had a couple of rums, cost 1/8. Remember there are 3 main divisions in prices: pounds, shillings and pence. If something costs one pound, one shilling and one pence – it’s written £1:1/1, so 1/8 = one shilling and 8 pence – or about 33 cents. It was good rum, dear – but you were missing from my side. I couldn’t very well squeeze one of the other officers hands, could I?

Now I’m back in the Dispensary, where I live, incidentally. I’ve got to get my dry cleaning and laundry ready for tomorrow. Yes – I’ve got better facilities here than in the States – except for you, darling! Then I have a few administrative matters to take care of, and I’ll go to bed. I can’t tell you anything about the night life, Sweetheart, because I haven’t been out of an evening as yet. I don’t seem to want to do anything but hang around and think of you. Eventually I’ll go out and have a couple of beers with some of the boys – probably with Pete, anyway.

Well – that’s all darling. This was supposed to be just a note, you remember. I hope, dear – you’re well – and also – that if these letters get to Wilder after you’ve gone, that they’ll be forwarded to Newton.

Good-nite, dear and regards to the girls

All my love

Greg.

29 November, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster N.Y.

Nov 29, 1943    1630

Somewhere in England

Wilma, darling –

And so tomorrow is Dec 1 and the last lap before you graduate. I suppose dear by now you have gone into high gear and are studying like fury. Anyway I hope so. I wonder what you’ve done or are planning to do after graduation, Sweetheart. I find myself thinking a great deal about that these days. You’ll undoubtedly have a lot of time to yourself, even if you work. Will you get bored and fidgety, dear? I pray that you won’t.

The papers here – and undoubtedly the U.S. papers carry so much the past few days about “peace bids”, rumors, etc. One can’t help getting a lift out of that. If the Army and Airforce don’t let up as a result, it’s good tonic. It may be all false – but there’s usually fire where there’s smoke – and maybe something will come of it. I keep thinking of your father’s forecast and wish it were going to be true. Somehow, however, it seems a little premature at this stage.

Last nite, darling, I dreamed of you and your folks. As usual – in dreams – it was very hazy and petered out before it could make sense. It seems I was calling your house by phone. I don’t know from where. Your father answered and recognized my voice and said ‘Wait a minute’. The next voice was that of Shirley B. – for some reason or another and she too said “Wait a minute’. Finally I heard your voice – and the wonderful part of dreams is that I could actually hear it – we exchanged a few words that are non-intelligible to me now – and bingo! – that’s all to the dream. I can only interpret it as a play-back on some of the phone calls I’ve made to you in the past, dear and my frequent feeling of wanting to call you. So far I’ve not been able to find out about telephoning, but you can be sure that if I could conceivably call you Sweetheart – I will – regardless of what it may cost. I think, however, that it seems unlikely. As soon as I get to a big city long enough to find out, I’ll inquire.

I wonder if you’re getting home some of these week-ends or if you’re staying up at school. Have you heard from Shirley or Stan and how are they getting along? Have you been in touch with my folks, dear, – or been to see them? I hope so. I want you to know them very well by the time I get back, dear.

Here – there is nothing particularly new. I find myself – as does everyone else – mimicking the English custom of raising their voices at the end of a sentence and stressing certain words in the middle of a phrase. It’s very peculiar. When you speak on the phone, they always say ‘Are you there?’ But I also find myself liking the English very much. In any of our dealings with the neighboring townspeople – they have been extremely helpful and cooperative – and regardless of what some of our Senators have said – it is the feeling of all American soldiers I’ve spoken with that the ordinary Englishman is very appreciative of the American help here and what they are doing. They speak in great praise of the Airforce, too. And the few British soldiers I’ve spoken with have admiration for the American soldier and the way he lives.

The food here – for the Army – is excellent, and the consensus of opinion, dear, is that you do best if you eat in camp – since everything is so closely rationed outside. Our px’s have everything in the line of cigarettes, tobacco, candy and soap, toilet articles – and even cigars, darling – but each soldier has to have a ration card. The ration however adequately supplies our needs. The eggs in the a.m. are powdered, however, and I haven’t yet got accustomed to that. The milk is powdered, too and has water added to it. It ends up tasting not too bad.

Well, dear – that’s about all this time. I hope I’m lucky enough to dream of you again tonite. But if not – you’re still quiet vivid in my mind, dear – and I do love you so very very much.

All my love for now, darling

Greg

28 November, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 c/o Postmaster N.Y.

Sunday, November 28    1110

Somewhere in England

Dearest Sweetheart –

The past few days have been very busy ones and I’m not sure dear whether or not I wrote you yesterday. From what I gather about getting mail, sequence seems to be no factor at all anyway. At least that’s true of this side anyway. To date, I haven’t received any mail at all here. The only thing I’ve received at all dear, was the one letter I wrote you about a long time ago. I’ve almost worn the print off – reading it. It was written the day you told me you didn’t think it wise to go to New York, remember? I’m told however that sooner or later – but always – all mail will reach us, so darling, some day I expect a harvest.

Sunday morning in Boston I would be getting ready to call you, Sweetheart. I’m so thankful for our memories because I have ample time to relive them. As I think back over the past few months, it’s wonderful to think how well we got to know each other dear. We really did spend a lot of time together, didn’t we? I’ll never forget my telling you I’d like to get to know you well enough to write to you. Off hand I’d say I did.

I keep wondering if you’ve heard from

Sunday 1830

Darling – I stopped where I did when our Col. dropped in to see me about a couple of things. From that time on ‘til now I’ve been busy without a let-up except for meals. Our letters don’t go out but once a day at 0800, so I’ll have to get mine written the p.m. or night before.

What I had started to say was that I’ll be interested in learning when you first heard from me, dear. I hope you’re being patient, darling. Remember – this is just a war; there have been wars before and they’ve always had an ending. They tell me that even the 30 years war wasn’t fought continuously, but had some intermissions. Now isn’t that cheerful, darling?

Well let me tell you a little more about England, dear. Wouldn’t it be swell if you were here though! It’s not beyond the limits of possibility that we could be here together someday Sweetheart. I’m ambitious. The towns here are really English. That’s very profound, that statement – but what I mean is that they are everything they are supposed to be, and the people, too. The dialect changes strikingly in different counties, even. In one place people say ‘half-penny’, in another – a ‘hay-penny'; in another place they say ‘three-pence’ for three-penny, and in another it’s called a ‘three-penny-bit’. It’s confusing. For that matter – the whole monetary system is, and I’ve even got one Englishman – the one who sent out your cablegram – to admit it. What is most difficult is trying to forget our money. If someone says that will cost 2 and 6, (written 2/6) you immediately try to figure first what it means and secondly what it means in American money. In this case – the 2 is shillings and the 6 is six pence. A shilling is 20 cents and 6 pence = a dime so 2/6 = 50 cents. The best thing to do is to think in terms of English money only, but when they say 2/6 – you expect to pay in 2 coins and find that it comes to one coin. A pound is worth 4 American dollars; there are no single dollar bills, but they do have 10 shilling bills (or notes) = $2.00. Incidentally – the money looks like stage money and is almost as big. It’s too wide for our wallets.

I had occasion to visit Liverpool for about an hour yesterday. It’s a big city with narrow winding streets – not unlike Boston in many respects. There were still many traces of previous heavy bombings. I was trying to locate a certain place for my outfit and had a devil of a time. Everyone I asked said he didn’t know. The people have been extremely well disciplined in not telling anyone anything – no matter what he’s wearing; he might conceivably be a paratrooper in disguise, etc. As you ride through the towns and cities you see red booths with all glass sides except for the frame – set at the edge of the curbstone at street corners. They are telephone booths and in some towns are stationed at every block. Everybody and his uncle rides a bicycle – all over the street; they’re really a hazard.

I haven’t been out with any of the fellows of an evening yet but the reports are in the negative. Every town has pubs – like saloons – and that’s all; no movies on Sundays. The movies are American, though – and in a neighboring town they are showing “Heaven Can Wait”, and Abbot and Costello in “Hit the Ice”. The pubs mostly sell beer – warm, as the English prefer it, and for hard liquor they serve gin, straight – if you can imagine. Oh – for a dry Martini, darling!

Buses transport most of the people and you wait at a corner in queues. You dare not push or crowd or try to get in front of anyone – or you pay a fine. I’m writing all this detail, dear – hoping you don’t mind. I’m just trying to let you project yourself over here a bit; I’m able to do the reverse so easily, that it’s really not fair.

So that’s about all for now except that if it’s 1900 now here it’s only 1500 where you are, dear. When I come home – my Sweetheart – I’ll have 4 extra hours in which to hug and kiss you. I wish I could ration those hours and have – say 15 minutes right now, dear. Boy oh boy! This is the longest I have gone since I’ve known you – without kissing you – and we were getting along so fine –

Well, darling, – I’d better stop now or this won’t fit into an airmail envelope. I don’t know when these letters will reach you but soon I’ll have to start writing to Newton – don’t you think? And to think I came so close to being able to attend your Graduation. Yet in the long run dear I think this was best because out set-up here is a much much better one than I would have drawn with that other outfit. And I do so want to come back safe and sound to marry you, darling, have a family and live happily ever after – Amen.

My sincerest and deepest love, dear – all of it.

Greg.