12 December, 1943 (Route of the "?")

Route of the Question Mark

Page 18 from The Route of the Question Mark is transcribed below, describing how time was spent since arriving in the UK, and pinpointing Doddington Park, Nantwich, Cheshire as "Somewhere in England."

page 18

...Scotland and the Firth of Clyde... The band that played for us on the railway platform at Gourick, Scotland...  Thanksgiving Day, 1943, and our K ration meal on the train from Gourick to Crewe, England... Doddington Park... The fog... The rain... The darkness... The English winter, and the English blackout, which we scrupulously observed... The unpleasant mess hall... The one clear day at Doddington, when Capt SILVIS took us for a walk to observe the English countryside... Our first pubs: The Boar's Head at Doddington, and the Red Lion at Nantwich... The ATS Girls, and our first contact with the English... The dances at Crewe... "Roll Me Over In The Clover, Roll Me Over, Lay Me Down, And Do It Again"... Giving up our American money and receiving pounds, shillings, and pence for it... The reckless poker games that taught us the value of this currency...

Here are a few links to click on:

Doddington Hall in Doddington Park

Boar's Head Inn, Walgherten, Nantwich, Cheshire

The ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service) Girls

The Red Lion, on Barony Road, was demolished for a care home.

As for the quoted tune, here are the full lyrics...

Now, this is number one
And the fun has just begun.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]
Roll me over, in the clover,
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

Now, this is number two,
And he's got me in a stew.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number three,
And his hand is on my knee.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number four,
And he's got me on the floor.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

CHORUS]

Now, this is number five,
And his hand is on my thigh.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number six,
And he's got me in a fix.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number seven,
And it's just like being in heaven.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number eight,
And the doctor's at the gate.
Roll me over, lay me down,
[CHORUS]

Now, this is number nine,
And the twins are doing fine.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

[CHORUS]

Now, this is number ten,
And he's started once again.
Roll me over, lay me down,
And do it again.

12 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Sunday, Dec 12, 1943    1150

England

Dearest and only Sweetheart –

Among so many other things I like about you is your artistic ability, darling – especially when you design intertwining hearts, one of which I always assume is yours, and the other – dare I say it – mine. I always look, dear, to see which has been pierced more severely by the arrow. The last set was a draw, if I may use the word, and that’s the way it should be. But seriously darling, I love it and keep it up.

After a long wait, dear, I got two more letters from you late yesterday. I read the earlier of the two and so help me I put the other aside for today and shall read it a little later. It’s hard to do, but it’s worth it for you see today I have something to look forward to.

I don’t know how long the mail situation will remain like this – but we’re getting ours in reverse. The last two letters I received were written the 7th and 8th of November. That about includes and concludes the interval between Edwards and you know what. Of course it doesn’t make any difference to me how I get my letters from you dear as long as I get them. I’m certain now though, that regardless of how long it takes, all our letters eventually reach us, and that’s a comforting thought.

Your letter of the 7th was a real “longie” as you put it, and I read it three times at the first sitting. That was the day your folks drove you back. I’m glad you drove, dear, and I hope you have your license to drive by the time I get back. It will be convenient because until I can get you a car of your own, you will want to use mine, while I’m having office hours or at the hospital etc. You also mention the lighter in that letter. I hope you are getting some use of it, darling.

Charlotte S. did sound dumb from the way you described her, especially when she said she was getting to forgetting her husband. Having a child and another one coming gave her so much to remember him by it seems to me. Concerning her description of the “1st week” which by the way has been told and retold by many a young bride – it’s a matter of point of view, as I look at it and always depends on the parties involved. For some reason or other it reminds me of the Gigolo in the Leper Colony who was doing all right until his business started falling off.

Well last night, instead of playing bridge as I wrote you I intended doing, I went into town. We send a convoy of trucks loaded with men into the nearest town. It leaves here at 1830 and leaves town at 2300. It’s the only means of transportation for the boys. An officer has to be in charge, and last night was my turn. Usually the great percentage head for the town hall where a public dance is held. I went up, as chaperone of course – because no other officer was present. Officers don’t go to the dance because it’s for enlisted men. It was an experience, dear. The girls looked as if they were anywhere from 13 to 17, which ought to make you feel pretty old, darling. (heh, heh.) Apparently there are far more girls around in this country, too – because they swarmed all over the men. (I was unmolested.) They seemed to follow American style dancing quite well – but the orchestra played too many waltzes to suit our boys. The girls cut in regularly on dancing couples and even on two girls dancing, if you can imagine it. I couldn’t help but feel sad for these girls. The past 4 years have been black ones for them, just when they should be enjoying life. The dresses are shabby, actually, and the shoes frayed. Many of them were wearing shoes with wooden soles, without heels. One of the drivers told me they had not had things like gum or peanuts for four years. If they haven’t had those things, you can imagine they’ve gone without much more. But you never hear any beefing and their spirit is admirable. It’s inconceivable when you’ve been here even a short while that Americans can enjoy so many luxuries. It’s truly a blessed and rich country we have and certainly well worth fighting for.

I know. I’ve spoken, or written rather, a great deal about the British and what few impressions I’ve received. I don’t know whether you find it interesting or not, dear. Tell me if I dwell too much on the subject. I don’t want to be boring.

By the way, you mention bashfulness or shyness or the possibility of it in my writing because of censorship. Well, what do you think, darling, am I? I’m not ashamed to say the things I want to, dear, no matter who reads my letters.

I’m anxiously awaiting your picture, dear. If I get anywhere near a place where I can have mine taken, I’ll do it.

Well Sweetheart, I’ve rambled enough for one sitting. It’s getting near lunch time – so I’ll close now. Darling I’m writing often and I hope you think so. I’ll continue to until war’s end – no fear about that. I love to write to you and I hope you find what I write interesting. I enjoy what letters I receive from you and I anxiously await each day’s mail. Keep them coming, darling, because I love you so very very much – I need them. Be well, darling, and you have

All my love, Sweetheart

Greg.

11 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Saturday, Dec 11, 1943  1400

England

My dearest Wilma -

Saturday afternoon – and once upon a girl there was a – excuse me dear – once upon a time I was wont to ride in either of two directions, but with you as the goal in both cases. Gosh they say that in the army one day is like another day, but somehow I’m always aware acutely of the arrival of Saturday and Sunday, and I have no doubt you are too, dear. On December 3rd, darling, I was on the Army active list for eighteen months. I can hardly believe it. I still find myself thinking in terms of when I closed my office; I don’t find a place for the 1½ year period – except the latter part of it.

Do you ever wonder, Sweetheart, whether or not we would have met had I not been in the Army. Of course I was getting fed up with my lonesomeness in Salem. Superficially I had plenty to do and places to go to, but when I got back of an evening I would feel very blue and realized I was missing one important thing, love for a woman and a woman’s love, in short – a wife. I suppose I would have started looking for someone, and yet I kept putting it off. Boston was a long way off it seemed, and I just stayed in the same old groove. What would have eventually happened, I don’t know. I’m not the bachelor type because I believe too much in a wife and family life. I would have gone on being fundamentally unhappy.

The fact that I didn’t get to meet you before I actually did is my own fault – but I’m satisfied now, dear.

I was just re-reading the last letter I received from you, written Nov. 21. I like it for several reasons, darling, but particularly because it’s the latest. If you’re like me, as time goes by you’ll scan my letters more and more closely to see if there are any changes, obvious or hidden. Human nature, darling, is like that and that’s not harmful at all. I pray, dear, that I never find any changes, that you continue to write that you’re “deeply in love” with me and that I have all your love. Nothing else will make me happy. Less than that will sadden my life. Remember ever, darling, that you have me if you want me.

Your reference to the “Rear Admiral” was funny, but if you want to be a doctor’s wife you must say ‘hemorrhoids!’ You have nice relatives, darling, and very friendly they were to me, too. I know they’re very fond of you, and if they liked me at all, it’s a great compliment. Won’t if be fun to have them over and entertain in our own house! We’ll have the widest circle of friends and relatives a couple ever had, or I miss my guess, dear.

But yes, this was Saturday afternoon and I’m so far away Sweetheart. It’s such an annoying, gnawing realization and at times seems unbearable. I’m in my office now, listening to the radio. It’s quiet and warm – but I’m so damned lonesome and I dread the thought of the evening. I’m not afraid of “diversion and thus a date”, as you put it dear. That won’t help me at all and if it did, I wouldn’t like it, because I don’t want anyone to divert me but you. I suppose we can get a bridge game going but it’s going to be a long evening.

So far there’s been no mail today. I heard disconcerting news yesterday to the effect that initial mail from here to home sometimes takes as long as 5-6 weeks to arrive and that even cablegrams take almost as long. I was under the assumption that you certainly had heard from me by this time. Gee I hope so, darling. I don’t mind so much not hearing as long as my letters get to you – but I’m convinced that when I do get the next batch from you that I will read your letters in sequence, and one each day. The in-between periods are much too lonesome and aggravating.

I’m afraid I’m sounding too blue, darling, but excuse it. I have plenty to be thankful for and I’m not forgetting that. As long as I have your love, I’m happy. I miss you strongly, but that’s natural, and as I’ve said before, that’s a good sign and I expect to keep on missing you. Why – I expect to miss you Sweetheart – if you leave Salem for an afternoon to visit your mother, for example, – so why shouldn’t I miss you now?

So long, dearest – until tomorrow and best of luck in your new job, whatever it is, but keep away from anything male – because you’re mine! You see – I am possessive – but please dear, don’t tell me too much so.

Auf Weidersehen, darling and

All my love for now

Greg

10 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Dec 10, 1943     1045

England

Dearest beloved -

I suppose that if you received my mail daily in sequence – it would read like a chronicle. It must be confusing to get them mixed, as you probably do. As I figure things, with censorship and the usual hold up of letters in the early days of arrival, you should be just about beginning to receive my mail somewhere about this date. Am I correct, dear? Of course this time of the year with Christmas packages and all I guess the mail is delayed even more than usual. I think you’ll eventually find, dear, that you’ll hear from me by air-mail in about one week’s time, which isn’t bad. I remember when I was in Fort Jackson, S.C. – it sometimes took 4 days for my mail to get home. Only there I was able to call frequently.

If you have my letter written last night, darling you’d know that we received no mail yesterday because the mail truck broke down. It finally got in about 0100, and was sorted out this a.m. – but no mail for me. So what can I do about it, dear? Nothing except to use my imagination again – and I sure do feel sorry for anyone who hasn’t got one and has to be away from home. I’ve been using mine pretty steadily, darling. When I don’t hear from you, I tell myself you are writing anyway and then I try to imagine what you might have written – and it’s always something sweet, dear.

Yesterday I heard a re-broadcast of an old “Hit Parade”. Number one at that time was “Brazil” and number two “It seems to me I heard that etc.” Frank Sinatra crooned, and the audience sighed deeply. Incidentally, I heard that someone was found at a Sinatra program who actually fainted. Investigation showed she hadn’t eaten all that day. In the evening I heard the program “Mail Call” direct from Hollywood – which is broadcast to soldiers overseas only. Lionel Barrymore, Dennis Day, Baby Snooks, and a few others took part. It’s wonderful, dear, to hear an American program – no matter what it is – And the American announcers sound so homey. And you know how irritating the advertisements used to sound? Well I’d like to hear a couple of choruses of Pepsi-cola and others. The B.B.C. and the stations of the continent have no advertisement at all. The program runs until the end of the half-hour or hour, the time is announced and the new program started. On the hour – the British Stations give the chimes of Big Ben from London – instead of the staccato notes of the WBC or CBS.

I’m getting as I can recognize more and more of the French and German that we hear so much of on the radio – so I’ll have to consider this trip as partly educational, dear.

I’m going to stop now – without closing the letter. I’ve got to do a couple of things before lunch – and perhaps today’s mail will be in, early p.m. Solong for now, Sweetheart

2200

Hello dear –

That was a longer pause than I anticipated. Several things turned up – but the one that took the longest was an unexpected trip to the hospital. One of our officers has been quite sick and I had to go see if he were going to be transferred out of our outfit. I didn’t get to the hospital until 1630 and after checking up on several of the boys – I met an M.D. who hails from the North Shore. Well we got to talking and he invited me to the Officers’ Mess. It was too late to get back to ours, so I stayed. Then we smoked awhile in the Officers’ Lounge and before I knew it – it was quite late, darling, and we had to make our way back thru the blackout. No, dear, I don’t often forget myself and let the hours slip by – so you needn’t start worrying about my being late for dinner and supper. If I know you’re at home waiting, I’ll be on time, dear, you’ll see. I don’t hurry now, because there’s no one here to hurry to. It will be swell seeing you often during the day (and night too, of course). That’s one of the privileges of being an MD, you can see your wife a whole lot more of your lifetime than the layman.

Coming back tonight – the moon was big and the sky clear – for a change. I looked up at it all the 31 miles back and dreamed of you. If you saw the moon too dear – you must have felt something because I was concentrating very hard.

On returning here I found no mail. I don’t mind so much but I’m beginning to worry about your receiving my mail. I do hope you are by now. I’ll close now Sweetheart because I’m tired and want to get some sleep. Be patient darling. I’ll write tomorrow and meanwhile –

All my love to you, dear

Greg

09 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Thursday, Dec 9, 1943   1630

England

Dearest Wilma -

The mailman has not returned as yet so I don’t know whether I’ll hear from you or not today. We get mail once a day here, incidentally, if at all.

Well today is 10 days from Graduation and I can well imagine how excited you are as you knock off day by day. It must be a little tougher on you than it was for us, because our Divisional Exams came at least a month before Commencement and we knew just where we stood. But I’m not very much worried as to how you’ll make out, dear, because I have a great deal of confidence in your ability. Good Lord, though, how I’d like to be there with you! I missed so much with you, leaving the States when I did. First your Birthday, then your Graduation, then Christmas and New Year’s. I get very lonesome when I think of the coming Holidays. I wonder what you’ll do on Christmas, and particularly New Year’s Eve. We could have had so much fun, darling. Here in England, by the way, New Year’s Eve is just another night. They don’t celebrate it at all, although the Scotch do make quite a time of it we’re told. I’ll probably stay up and write you a letter at midnight, say. And I’ll be thinking oh so hard about you and wondering what you decided to do. I know how much you enjoy life and I guess I don’t blame you, but it’s so difficult to think of those at home and not get blue when we think of days of celebration.

Excuse me, darling, for getting off on such a tangent. Well last night I went to my first English movie house. I’ve already written you that they show most of our pictures – a few months late. They also have their own. I saw one of theirs last nite – called “The Flemish Farm” – and among some of the players was Clive Brook – remember him? It was another one of those pictures about Germans and occupied Belgium, but there were several good scenes and suspense was created with as equal imagination as Hollywood has. The best seats are in the first balcony, the worst are in the orchestra, just the reverse of ours. But all over England you are permitted to smoke anywhere in the theater and there are ash-trays behind each seat. That reminds me, darling, that Salem’s own Paramount theater (for which I once had an all year round courtesy pass for 2 because one of the owners was a patient of mine) allows smoking upstairs.

I’m going to leave now for a short while, dear, chow’s on!

1930
Hello Darling!

Chow wasn’t that long. We had a Battery Commander’s meeting at 1830 and we just got thru. Coming over to the dispensary from headquarters I looked up to see the moon. Full moon is the 11th and you know how I feel about full moons, dear. As a matter of fact the moon here isn’t very pretty; you can hardly see it thru the mist. I don’t need a moon to feel the way I do, anyway.

I just got some word on the mail situation for tonight. The mail truck broke down on its way back. They’ve called for someone to tow it back and since it’s quite a distance from here – I can forget about mail for tonight. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to become stoic about disappointments and waiting. I know that I’m not used to it yet. I hope I won’t get used to it, Sweetheart, even though that sounds paradoxical. What I mean is that I want to miss you and want you and feel disappointment at not hearing from you right up to the day I hold you in my arms again for always – and I know that’s the way it will be.

I often wondered about love and being affected by it. I even voiced my opinion (to your Mother). I know I made it sound very abstract and matter of fact. I wasn’t entirely wrong – but I was never aware of a certain something that can’t be put into words, that I never experienced, darling, until I met you. The combination of what you want in a woman, plus this certain something, doesn’t come often or ever, I suppose, to some people. I have it, darling, in my knowledge and love for you and it makes me happier than I’ve ever been before – despite the agony of being separated. I keep telling you I’m happy – and you must wonder how I can be. That’s why I’ve tried to explain how and why I feel that way. Do you understand, dear?

I seem to be particularly wordy tonight, dear – but it’s easy, especially when you can keep writing and no one interrupts your conversation – not that you ever did.

Wilma, darling, I wonder if you gather from my letters how much I love you and want you to be waiting for me when I return. I want it like I’ve never wanted anything before. Also I might warn you, dear, that anything I’ve ever really wanted, I’ve got – so you might as well resign yourself to me dear, because I want you very very much.

I’d better stop now, dearest, until tomorrow. I hope you’re hearing from me reasonably regularly now. I hope to hear from you tomorrow, but if not – you’ll be just as near to me as you always are in my mind and heart. Goodnight, dear and you have

All my love

Greg

08 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Wednesday, Dec 8, 1943 1100

England

Dearest Girl -

You can see by the time that I probably won’t be able to finish this at one sitting, but I thought I’d start anyway, since I happen to have a few spare moments just now. At 1130 I have to attend a B.C.’s meeting where we all air our views about different matters. Today I’m going to beef about the mess-kit water not being hot enough. I do that periodically, and they are getting used to it by now. As long as the boys don’t get any disease from contamination, I don’t care.

I’m sitting at my desk, near a warm stove, dear, with the radio playing Gypsy music, softly. It’s very comfortable – but you would complete the picture beautifully. Speaking of pictures reminds me of a statement you made in one of your letters – i.e. – that with time your picture might become dimmed. I don’t know, dear, whether you meant that figuratively or literally – but in either case you were way off the beam. Even without your photograph, darling, your image is very much in my mind; a picture will help – but even if either should be dimmed in my visual sensory mechanism, it wouldn’t matter at all because Sweetheart – it’s what you are basically that I love. Suppose I can’t visualize you? What of it? I know that when I left home I left behind me a girl whose qualities and make-up I loved and who in addition, loved me. That fact won’t get dimmed ever in my memory sense, believe me, darling – and it will bring me back to you, I know.

The program has changed to dance music and right now they’re playing “Put Your Arms etc.” and boy how I’d like to! The native dance bands – as I hear them on the radio – aren’t too good. The leading band leader seems to be a fellow named Victor Sylvester, and he isn’t bad. Yet he can’t touch Dorsey, Miller, Goodman, James et al. They play a lot of our old numbers like ‘Blue Skies’, ‘Who’. I’ve listened to hear ‘Dark Eyes’ – but so far, dear, no luck.

I did hear Bob Hope’s program the other night – or did I mention that? It was a Monday at 7:30 p.m. or 1930 and it was therefore about 1430 in the States. It was a special overseas program, done weekly. Crosby and Langford were on with him, and they wise-cracked freely. The ad-libbing was plentiful and they addressed all their remarks to the soldiers. I haven’t been able to find out about Jack Benny’s program as yet – but I understand he does one, too.

I have to leave right now, dear. Excuse me.

1240

Hello darling –

Just got back from lunch. We had steak, mashed potatoes, diced beets, mustard, pickles, coffee, pineapple and home-made tarts, and that wasn’t an extraordinary meal – either. Right now I’m waiting for one of the other officers to call for me. The BC’s are custodians of the funds of the batteries. We lugged our cash overseas and now we’re going to deposit it in an English bank – possibly Barclay’s. They have branches all over England and if we should move right from this spot – we’d have a branch somewhere else.

And news? Well what opinions you can get from the papers here and some natives – they all seem to feel that the war in Europe can’t last much longer. They feel the ‘Jerries won’t stick it’. The British are not a bunch of wishful thinkers – so maybe they have the right dope. Gosh, darling, how long must I dream of the ride back and the moment when I see you and I don’t know what? Will I be reserved? Wait and see, darling.

I’m afraid I’ll have to close now Sweetheart, – they’re waiting for me. Starting with this letter I’m addressing you at home on the hunch that it will take about that long to get to you. At any rate your mother will hold it.

Solong, my darling – I miss you terribly dear – particularly with the approach of the coming holidays, but what can a fellow do but sit tight and wait, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll write you again tomorrow, dear and until then – you have for safekeeping

All my love

Greg

07 December, 1943

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 515 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Dec. 7, 1943     1645

England

My dearest Sweetheart -

I used to think about overseas in a rather abstract way, I think. I would wonder how it would feel to actually be away. Now I know. Yet despite the awfulness of distance and the impossibility of being in close contact with beloved ones, I think it must be tougher on those at home.

I just received two more letters from you, darling – the most recent being the letter written on the 21st, after your long week-end at home. They were very sweet letters and told me very very much. But you were a very lonesome girl that week-end, dear, – very lonesome. We must have been thinking along the same lines, about the same time – as I think back.

First about my getting to meet an English girl, dear. Before I get to know one, I’ve got to meet one, don’t I? Darling, I haven’t got the slightest desire to meet an English, American, French, Russian, Italian, Burmese – or any other kind of girl. How could I want to, when I know you and love you so much? I know that you can’t help thinking things – to wit, I do the same. But you must have implicit confidence in my steadiness and my mind. I have one obsession, darling, and that is you – no matter where I go. Always, always remember that fact. I found you and knew immediately what I had been looking for. I loved you and tried to make you do the same; I’m not going to let anything destroy that!

Before you wrote what you did – or at least before I received this last letter, darling, I touched on a subject which you ask me to discuss. You remember before I left I kept saying I wished you and I had been engaged. I still wish it, dear – but remember, many an engaged person is so by virtue of a ring only, and not by much more. I feel I’m engaged, attached or any other word to you. You know my folks as no other girls I knew knows them; I know your folks rather well too. As far as I’m concerned, darling, I want to come home to marry you and that’s all I’m interested in.

I told you the other day, darling, how I felt about your going out. That’s going to be entirely up to you, dear. It’s probably easier for me not to go out than for you. After all – not many people in England are interested in me – For you it’s different, and I know that it must be difficult after sitting around night after night – not to accept what seems like a harmless invitation. Furthermore – it will be worse once school is over. All I can say, dear, is that I hope you don’t tell me about it. That’s fair enough, isn’t it?

Now I hope I’ve make myself clear on that subject. I was pleased to hear that my father had written you. He’s really out to hook you for me, I guess – and I’ll have to thank him.

You must be plugging away at the books these days and nights. I hope you’re concentrating and I want you to hit those exams hard.

I think your relatives are swell for remembering me so. I’m glad they do, dear, and don’t forget to send them all my best regards.

And out here in England, darling, there’s nothing at all in the line of news. My sight-seeing has consisted mostly of seeing the countryside on my visits to the hospital. The infernal fog and mist are a nuisance and are just what A. Conan Doyle said they were. It is actually difficult to walk even in the daytime. And it does get depressing not to see the sun day after day – just a moist grayishness that soaks everything. The ground and sidewalks never get dry – or at least never since we’ve been here. And because of our latitude and longitude (whatever they are), the sun never gets up very high in the sky. It reaches a point about as high as the sun would go in our country at about 1000 – and then starts sinking. Consequently, darling, it doesn’t start to get light these days until about 0845 and it’s dark right after 1700.

But it doesn’t really worry me very much dear. The fact is that this is all temporary and I’ll be coming back to you one of these days and we’ll stay in New England. Salem has some nice weather – and when it gets bad – we’ll stay in.

Now Sweetheart I hope you’re feeling well and taking care of yourself. I’m interested in how you’re making out in your quest for something to do after school is over – and I’m very much interested in whether or not you’re finding time very heavy, and whether the desire for diversion is very great in you. Write me, darling, and tell me – will you?

That’s all for now, dear – I hope I’ve answered your questions – You’ve got me, darling, and you’ll have me always – if you want me; no matter where I go, I’m coming back to you.

All my love, darling

Greg