04 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

4 April, 1944         1115

My dearest darling -

Right now Charlie and I are goldbricking. We’re back in our room and ordinarily it’s rather early in the day to be back here. But we finished our work and didn’t have very much ambition – so we headed back to the Castle. It’s a fine sunny day and frankly, dear, I’m lazy. Incidentally – when I read some of your letters about your getting up at such and such an hour – late morning or even early afternoon – I wince, but I don’t blame you because among other things, it must help shorten the day considerably.

Yesterday, darling, I hit another Bonanza and got five letters from you from around the 17th, 19th, 16th etc. of March and one actually from the 21st. I underline “actually” because as you’ve already noted – I received an earlier letter already dated the 21st.

What distresses me mostly in the last few days’ mail, dear, is that apparently up to the 21st you still weren’t sure how I feel about an engagement – or a ring; and also – that apparently your folks had not yet heard from me. I’ve lost track of the date when I wrote both your folks and you about how I felt – and I can’t remember whether it was after my leave or not – but gee – it seems like a long time ago. Maybe it’s because we’ve moved in the interim and our last spot already seems far away in point of time. I’m sure, though, that by now, sweetheart, how I feel must be clear to you all – and I’m just waiting to hear. You even mention a letter of your mother’s written January 25th. That particular letter didn’t get to me for a long time – for some reason or other and then I wrote and explained. Apparently, dear, a whole bunch of our mail from the middle of March – was delayed, because some of the other fellows have had mail from home complaining of the delay.

I was glad to read you had visited the Gardner home. It’s been years since I went through it – but I remember how impressed I was at the time. Seeing things like that – as we have been able to do here in England – takes you out of the ordinary world, temporarily, true – but nevertheless long enough to let you know that something like that does exist.

I enjoyed your description of taking care of Charlotte’s baby and your vision of riding home to visit our folks with our son. And who in the world, dear, guaranteed you a son? Not that I don’t want one. The Lord knows I’d like nothing better – but there are girls, too, don’t forget. It won’t make much difference, though – as long as we have a family – and on that score – I certainly let my dreams carry me off, dear.

You wrote me a very sweet V-mail on the Ides of March, darling, which I enjoyed very much. It had such a pleasant thought – but we’d better get together – because my heart is with you in Newton, and if yours is here in England – we’re missing the boat. No doubt they meet somewhere midway across.

And what in the world I’m going to do with a salami in Walter Raleigh’s Castle – I don’t know. Anyway it was something different and when it comes – I’ll write a thanks to Stan.

Darling – I’ll close for now. I’m going to play squash this p.m. I’ll tell you how I arranged it – tomorrow. Sweetheart I love you and miss you – the way you do me – and there’s only one thing I have in mind always – to get home and marry you – quickly! My love to your folks and the family in general.

All my love for now, dear

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Isabella Stewart Gardner
and her Museum


Isabella Stewart Gardner
by John Singer Sargent (1888)

Greg was glad that Wilma had visited the "Gardner House', now known as the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Isabella was born the daughter of David Stewart, a business owner from New York and Adelia Smith. She married a wealthy Boston financier John Lowell Gardner in 1860 at the age of twenty. Everyone called him Jack, and everyone called her Mrs. Jack. According to excerpts from the Gardner Museum web site:

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is at once an intimate collection of fine and decorative art and a vibrant, innovative venue for contemporary artists, musicians and scholars. Housed in a stunning 15th-century Venetian-style palace with three stories of galleries surrounding a sun- and flower-filled courtyard, the museum provides an unusual backdrop for the viewing of art.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

The Gardner opened to the public on the evening of January 1st, 1903. It is the only private art collection in which the building, collection and installations are the creation of one individual. Isabella Stewart Gardner's vision that the museum remain as she arranged it "for the education and enrichment of the public forever" is reflected in every aspect of the museum. Although she conceived of the museum and amassed her collection with her husband, he died before it was built. Its preeminent collection contains more than 2,500 paintings, sculptures, tapestries, furniture, manuscripts, rare books and decorative arts. The galleries house works by some of the most recognized artists in the world, including Titian, Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Raphael, Botticelli, Manet, Degas, Whistler and Sargent.

Setting her sights on the Fenway, a formerly marshy area that had recently been filled, in 1898 she purchased a plot of land on which to build her museum. Architect Willard T. Sears drew up plans and construction of Fenway Court, as it was originally called, began in June of 1899. Mrs. Jack attended the driving of the first pile and visited the construction site regularly, carefully supervising every detail of the building. She climbed ladders to show painters the effect she sought for the interior courtyard and determined the placement of each architectural element. The building was complete by November 1901, and Mrs. Jack spent the following year carefully installing her collection. Gardner herself lived in an apartment on the fourth floor.

Mrs. Jack disliked the cold, mausoleum-like spaces of most American museums of the period. As a result, she designed Fenway Court around a central courtyard filled with flowers. Light enters the galleries from the courtyard and from exterior windows, creating an atmospheric setting for works of art. Love of art, not knowledge about the history of art, was her aim. Her friends noted that the entire museum was a work of art in itself. Individual objects became part of a rich, complex and intensely personal setting.

The art of landscape has always been central to the Gardner Museum. Mrs. Jack was an avid gardener, and created theme gardens—an Italian garden and a Japanese garden—at her summer house in Brookline, Massachusetts. In keeping with her passion for horticulture and garden design, the museum’s interior courtyard is an astonishing work of art, combining plants, sculpture, and architectural elements.

Today her legacy continues as this lush central courtyard is regularly transformed with new plants and colors in nine dramatic seasonal displays, including the beloved Hanging Nasturtiums display each April. The unique interplay between the courtyard and the museum galleries offers visitors a fresh view of the courtyard from almost every room, inviting connections between art and landscape.

On the morning of March 18, 1990, thieves disguised as police officers broke into the museum and stole thirteen works of art, including a painting by Vermeer (The Concert) and three Rembrandts (two paintings, including his only seascape The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, and a small self-portrait print) as well as works by Manet, Degas, Govaert Flinck, and a French and a Chinese artifact. It is considered the biggest art theft in US history and remains unsolved. The museum still displays the paintings' empty frames in their original locations due to the strict provisions of Gardner's will, which instructed that the collection be maintained unchanged.

Examples of the nine seasonal courtyard displays can be seen in the following pictures. Wilma, no doubt, enjoyed the nastertiums.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

April
Nastertium


May-June
Spring Blooms


June-July
Summers Blues


August-September
Bellflowers


September-October
Grasses and Berries


October-November
Chrysanthemums


December
Holiday Garden


January-February
Midwinter Tropics


February-March
Orchids and Bromeliads

03 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

3 April, 1944         1400

Wilma, sweetheart –

Twenty-one months ago today I went into active service. It’s getting to be a long time – and yet I can recall very vividly all that has happened and I can’t make myself believe that almost two years of my life have slipped by, with me in uniform. I’m just looking forward to the day when I can merely look back on it all – which reminds me of the bird called the “Oozle-finch”, which always flies backwards. It doesn’t care where it’s going, it just wants to know where it’s been. Did you ever hear of such a bird, dear? – And you won’t find it in the dictionary –

I got Phil and Florence’s address and I’ll jot them a note. If you say they’d like to hear from me, darling, I’ll be glad to write. You mention a Sylvia as asking for me. Do I know her – or is she one of the children?

I’m glad you like Nancy Rowe. Somehow in the few times I had met her I found her a little more sincere and real than many of her friends seemed. Your description of Abbot is true. There’s something peculiar about him – or he’s hard to know, I’m not sure which. But the truth is I never did get to meet them very often. When I was in Salem, I came into town on a Saturday night – only occasionally. It was after I closed my practice that I started to get around a bit more.

I don’t remember Jay’s name – but I do recall that it wasn’t too fancy, and Wendie needs a rather neat surname it seems to me. Darling, we shouldn’t have too much trouble naming our children.

Yesterday, dear, Sunday – was another quiet, peaceful day and to walk around the streets of this pretty little town – you could almost forget there was a war on – were not so many soldiers on the streets. Charlie and I just hung around the room, read, listened to the radio and generally killed the day. He told me about what he had done in London, how much he had had to drink, etc. etc.

This morning, another new week and the same old routine. Charlie and I are hanging around the Dispensary now. He’s in his usual position of recline – on the stretcher and making me sleepy just to look at him. There was a time when we used to take a p.m. nap – way back in Edwards – but I made myself get out of the habit some time ago because I don’t want to be lazy when I get home. I remember my intern days when we all used to go up to our rooms after the noon meal and assume the intern position. When I opened my office and had 2-3 or 2-4 office hours – I could hardly keep awake.

So Hal – the navigator looked you up, dear? Frankly, I don’t blame him, I would too. And of course, darling, I wasn’t hurt. Everything between us is on the up and up and it was a perfectly natural thing to do. As a matter of fact, Sweetheart, it was comforting to realize that you would feel so indifferent to someone you apparently liked quite well at one time. If you find me more appealing – even when I’m so far away – it’s a good sign – and I can say in return, dear, that you can feel the same sense of assurance as far as I’m concerned. No one that I’ve seen anywhere can possibly interest me – regardless of what Stan may have implied. Your freshness and love are the big magnet, darling, and it will always be so.

It’s getting noisy here. My men are coming in for a scheduled lecture and everyone is milling around. I’ll write again tomorrow, dear, as I will every day I can until war’s end and when I get back – I might even write you when we’re living together – married. It might be fun. For now, dearest, so long – and

All my deepest love

Greg

Best regards to the family

Love

G.

* TIDBIT *

about the OozleFinch


The original Oozlefinch model

Greg was looking forward to look backwards on his war experience, comparing himself to the "oozle-finch." He said its definition could not be found in the dictionary. Maybe not. But it can be found on the internet...

During World War II, antiaircraft artillerymen, once considered part of the Coastal Artillery Corps, remembered the existence of the Oozlefinch and many of them took his likeness with them when they went overseas. His spirit is said to have led those men who fought in both the European and Pacific Theaters to greater successes. But the story of the oozlefinch began long before WWII.

There are many legends about the origins of the oozlefinch but most seem to agree that the story of this lovable Air Defense mascot began in 1905 at Ft. Monroe, Virginia, then the home of the Coastal Artillery Corps. A Captain H.M. Merriam, no doubt under the effects of alcohol, first reported seeing a large-eyed, flight challenged bird outside the Officers Club. Soon more people would report seeing this bird and sketches began to be made.

The depiction that witnesses of the oozlefinch gave of this strange bird centered on its large eyes that never seemed to close and liked to watch out over the beach just like the coastal artillerymen it came to represent. These eyes are large and all-seeing, unshaded by eyelids or eyebrows, and rather seriously blood-shot. Just why the eyes are so prominent, and red, no one seems sure. But being all-seeing, the bird can gather more information in a shorter period of time than mere mortals who have conventional sight. Because his eyes have no eyelids or eyebrows, the bird is forced to fly backwards to protect his powers of observation from dirt and debris. It is said he can turn them 180 degrees to gaze inward when he desires the maximum value from self-contemplation, a necessary trait in a good leader. The bird also had over sized feet that could be used to snatch and grab anything that came at it, just like its coastal artillerymen brethren were able to reach out and attack any enemy ships approaching defended shores.

In December of 1906, the wife of Col. E. R. Tilton, while shopping in Hampton, Va., purchased a model of the bird Merriam described to her. At her husband’s request, the bird was housed at the Fort Monroe Officers’ Club, where he remained for two years. During World War I, after he was moved to the Casemate Club, Oozle Finch received a crest in honor of his protection of the artillerymen at war.

Latin translation: "What the hell do we care?"

World War II would see the greatest numbers of depictions of the oozlefinch as air defenders spread across the globe to provide air defense against the German Luftwaffe and the aircraft of the Imperial Japanese. With one of the greatest innovations of Air Defense, the development of the radar, the depiction of the oozlefinch changed as its eyes became larger and in some cases radar shaped.

The oozlefinch remains the guardian of all missile men and now carries a missle in its left leg.

Representing the Air Defense Artillery Corps, its motto is: "If it flies, it dies. Blazing skies." Yet it is still said that while flying backwards this bird doesn't care where it's going, it just wants to know where it's been.

02 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

2 April, 1944      1430

Dearest darling,

Kiss my blues away! I got a nice bunch of mail late yesterday and it certainly did help my spirits tremendously. I got letters from you from way back in March – the 1st and then spread out until March 21st. There are still a lot of spaces in between. From no one of your letters did I receive any clue as to whether your folks had received my letters to them – or what is more important, dear, what their reaction was. They must have heard by now and perhaps a letter is on its way.

Your letters were all so sweet and lovable – even those that were “moody”. I love them all – including your reference to being “mushy” – which I never think you are. You also want to know why I don’t write a little bit more about how I actually feel at times. Believe me, sweetheart, if I don’t write how much I’d love to have you close to me so that I could kiss you the way sweethearts should kiss, so that I could say soft things for only you to hear, so that I could make you gasp a little for breath – if I don’t write those things, darling, it is not because I don’t think them, want them, miss them or dream about them constantly. Yet, dear, I don’t think I’ve been exactly restrained in my manner of writing to you. It’s just very difficult to write like that and not feel the want of it more acutely – and the Lord knows I feel the want – very very much!

I also got a letter from Ruth and one from my dad. Both were swell letters. Ruth told me about having met you and your folks at my house. Of course – she had met you before. She said she liked your folks very much and then went on to tell me how lovely and sincere you were and what a swell wife you would make. I agree.

My dad told me more about getting a ring. He apparently had not yet received my letter telling him to go ahead and get one. I hope he has by now. I’m still sort of out of touch with what’s going on – even though I had your letter as recently written as March 21st. But you still love me, darling, and that’s what matters most.

Sweetheart – I haven’t been to London again since you asked me not to and when I went on my leave – the moon was full and there was no trouble all the time I was there. The reason I didn’t go traveling to see various historic places – are a few. First of all – there’s no fun when you’re alone. Secondly – I had to drag a bulky Val-a-pac wherever I went and thirdly – you can only see shows, concerts etc. – in London. I have been to a good many interesting spots already – unofficially – and I did get to Cambridge – a long time ago.

Two days ago, by the way, I decided I would try to contact Frank Morse. We had been writing each other – but telephone numbers and addresses aren’t allowed to be written – so I didn’t know exactly where he was. Incidentally – his APO number is 526 – but I knew he wasn’t near us when ours was 527. Well – by devious methods – best not written about – I got his phone no. and sure enough was able to talk with him. He’s directly North of us and we tried to arrange to meet in Birmingham. I called him again today – at noon – and his leave was canceled. I would have been able to be off for 24 hours. So we’ll have to wait to get together. Anyway we had a chat and it seemed like old times.

Well, darling, last night when we went to bed – we moved the clocks ahead one more hour. We are now on what the English call – double summer time. If you want to think of me now – you’ll have to put me six hours ahead instead of 5. It means that it won’t get dark now until about 2100 and in the summer – not until after 2300.

Charlie just came in from a 48 hr. pass to London, dear. He sends his regards. I’m due for some time off, but since I can’t see Frank – I don’t think I’ll bother taking my time.

I’ll close now, darling, because Charlie’s bothering me, telling me about this and that in London. It was swell hearing from you again – and I hope I get a couple of the missing letters with some good news. I’ll write again tomorrow, sweetheart. Until then – so long – and

All my love, dear

Greg

01 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

1 April, 1944      1145

My darling,

It’s very close to lunch and I shall have to stop in a few minutes, but I thought I’d start writing anyway. All Fool’s Day – and just another day here. There hasn’t been a prank pulled so far today. Maybe I’m premature. The fact is, sweetheart, there seems to be a sense of seriousness about all the men and officers which has grown on all of us in recent weeks. And it isn’t only our outfit; I seem to notice it on the other troops as well. Whether or not it has any significance, I don’t know – but it must have something to do with the time of the year and the part of England we’re in. I think everyone is aware that there must be big things ahead of us soon and I guess everyone feels he will be a part of it. And it’s a good feeling, too. The confidence which everyone seems to have is so much different from that when they came overseas. They’re proud of the way they look when they march down the street and they really handle their guns. The rivalry between various sections is very keen and they arrange all sorts of bets, prizes etc – as to which is the speediest, snappiest, most accurate – and so on. Dinner bell – dear – I’ll run along now –

1606

Hello sweetheart –

I haven’t been eating all this time. We were supposed to have a court martial last night – but because of a long class, it was too late and it was held today at 1300. We just got through. It was the case I wrote you about – one of my men. He had a fair trial and a fair sentence, too, I believe. I think it will help the discipline in my own detachment which I fear hasn’t been too good – chiefly because of my being easy.

This Saturday p.m. is dull and rainy – a lonesome sort of day. I hate to keep writing you, darling, that there’s been no mail – but there’s no point in hiding that fact. No mail again last night – and that includes any kind – for any one in the battalion. They’ll be swamped when it finally does come thru.

On March 7 – dear – you wrote that it was 128 days since we had seen each other. It’s hard to believe that. We’ve been in such close touch with one another by mail despite the distance, and I’ve looked at your picture so often, that it seems as if I’ve seen you since then. I think part of that illusion is due to the fact that I see you so vividly and so often in my dreams. Other times though – I try to relive times when I was out with you. I try to imagine you smiling or laughing; I remember touching you when we were sitting side by side riding in my car; I see myself putting on the radio and you reaching out to tone it down. I kick myself for not having taken more advantage of each one of those occasions, for not having been alone with you more often, for not having been more forceful in telling you how much I loved you. I thank the Lord you found out anyway – but in retrospect I almost wonder what made you love me when I was so – shall I say – slow, or backward? But the fact that 128 days after you saw me last you can still love me enough to want to be engaged to me and marry me – thrills me more than I can say. There must be something darling that’s keeping us so close together – and no matter how long it is – you must know that there can never be anyone else for me in the world but you. You are my goal and ambition, dearest, my one thought that makes all this lonesomeness and distance worthwhile or a least tolerable. I think of no one but you – ever – and knowing how you feel about me is wonderful beyond compare. You continue to make me feel that way in each of your letters, darling, in everything that you write and think about us – and I know that one day we’ll be together as husband and wife, you and I – and it seems like the nicest and most natural thing in the world to look forward to.

Sweetheart – you won’t know how much I really love you and want you until I can tell you and show you – and no amount of words can make that any clearer. If you’ve thought I was the sort of fellow worth waiting for – believe me, if it’s in my power at all – I won’t let you down.

I’ll stop now, dear. I’m going down to the Px now which we run to get my rations for the week. I hope all is well at home, my fondest regards to your folks. I haven’t written to them lately because I’m waiting to hear what they have to say to my last letters to them. It’s not that it’s their turn – or anything like that – but merely, I want to know how to write them, understand?

So long for now, darling, and all my love is for you alone –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Some Words from Winston Churchill

Greg mentions that everyone seems to be aware that there must be big things ahead soon, and that a seriousness is settling in. Perhaps he and others heard Winston Churchill's speech, broadcast from London on 26 March, 1944. That speech ended with these words:

The hour of our greatest effort and action is approaching. We march with valiant Allies who count on us as we count on them. The flashing eyes of all our soldiers, sailors, and airmen must be fixed upon the enemy on their front. The only homeward road for all of us lies through the arch of victory. The magnificent armies of the United States are here or are pouring in. Our own troops, the best trained and best equipped we have ever had, stand at their side in equal numbers and in true comradeship. Leaders are appointed in whom we all have faith. We shall require from our own people here, from Parliament, from the Press, from all classes, the same cool, strong nerves, the same toughness of fiber, which stood us in good stead in those days when we were all alone under the blitz.

And here I must warn you that in order to deceive and baffle the enemy as well as to exercise the forces, there will be many false alarms, many feints, and many dress rehearsals. We may also ourselves be the object of new forms of attack from the enemy. Britain can take it. She has never flinched or failed. And when the signal is given, the whole circle of avenging nations will hurl themselves upon the foe and batter out the life of the cruelest tyranny which has ever sought to bar the progress of mankind.

Click to read a full copy of Churchill's speech, The War and Conditions in England, in which he reviews the progress against Mussolini, Hitler and the Japanese fleet, and thanks the armies of Australia, the United States and Russia.

31 March, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

31 March, 1944         1000

Good Morning, darling –

It’s been a long time it seems since I’ve been able to write you this early in the day. Every new station has a different set-up and therefore a different routine. I haven’t been able to figure this one out as yet, but this morning I’m plunked down on a medical chest in the Dispensary – and for a change – it’s reasonably quiet.

Yesterday afternoon Charlie and I started out towards where our own men are billeted to give them a couple of classes in first aid. We passed a shop with some men's ties in the window – nice English plaids – so we went in. I thought I’d like to buy a couple for your Dad and mine – but you need coupons of course. After a little dickering with the salesgirl – she told us that the best thing would be to go the ration board. We did and they referred us to the Civilians Enquiry Dept and there we met a very charming Englishwoman. We told her we wanted to buy something for Mother’s Day and she said she’d try to help us. Meanwhile it developed she traveled through the States last summer with her son (16 yrs.) He had been there for a year – at The Rivers School in Brookline and lived with Dr. Tracy Mallory – the pathologist at the M.G.H. She had visited Salem, Maine etc. and we had a nice chat. When we left her – she was going to write to the Board of Trade and we’re to see her in a week. We killed over an hour, dear, and lost all desire to teach, so we walked along up the one main street of this town – looking at windows. We went into an old antique shop but didn’t see anything worth sending home. We passed a sporting goods store and went in to look at some squash rackets. I got to talking with the owner and before we were through he was going to arrange to have me meet and play one of the men connected with the school in this town. I’m going back to see him this p.m.

Well, darling, all that took the greater part of the afternoon and before you knew it, it was time to eat again. Of course – my pay still goes on. In the evening – I listened to a re-broadcast of a Boston Symphony program and helped Charlie keep our fireplace going. We talked about our college days and things at home, and what we were going to do after the war and a hundred other things. There was no mail again last night – and that, sweetheart, has been really the hardest thing to take. We’ve only had mail one day since we’ve been here. I don’t think it has anything to do with our move – but rather with the amount of space they’re allotting to mail on planes and ships these days. I do hope that in your direction the mail is coming through better – because I know it’s tough on those at home – wondering what’s going on. I can assure you, dearest, that all is well.

I loved your letter of March 6th in which you tell me you love me and it’s not because it flatters my ego, either, darling. I’m just happy to know that my own love for you is being returned. I don’t want you ever to feel though that we’re wasting any bit of our life. This is a definite part of it, and what’s more – a valuable part of it, too. If I were home I’d never have had the chance of writing you so frequently and exchanging ideas. I’d be too apt to be making love to you all the time. And don’t think we’re not getting to know a whole lot about each other. I know you infinitely more than I did when I left – and I hope you feel the same about me. That’s why I’m so confident that when I return it will be the most natural thing in the world to get married to you without any delay.

I also loved your mentioning rings. I don’t know where my father will get a ring, darling, but I do hope he gets a good one – and hang the cost. I told him to and hope he takes me at my word. He has full access to my checking and saving accounts and I don’t care how much tax there is on rings right now. I know you’re practical dear – and I like you for it. I am too – but not about things sentimental. Gosh I wish I knew what was going on back home darling. I want to call you my fiancée and I can’t officially until we’re engaged – damn it. Well – anyway I love you and want you and I’m going to have you! I ought to hear something soon – but engaged or not – sweetheart – in my heart you’re mine and that makes me happy. Best regards home, dear and so long for now.

All my love

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about The Rivers School

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

Rivers School 1943 Varsity Football Team

Greg mentioned that a woman he met had a son at the Rivers School in Brookline for the past year. Perhaps he was one of the varsity football players in this picture of the 1943 team.

The Rivers School was founded as a school for boys in 1915 by educator Robert W. Rivers at the suggestion of a group of Boston-area physicians who believed that the rugged environment of an open-air school would promote good health in days when many young people fell victim to life-threatening, contagious illnesses.  Even in the winter, classroom windows were thrown open.

Students are bundled up in warm clothing in the Winter of 1917.

Twenty-five years and one new campus later, The Country Day School for Boys of Boston merged with Rivers. The school continued to grow in popularity and size and moved its location twice more to satisfy increasing demands for classrooms and playing fields. The latter of these moves was in 1960, when Rivers settled on the sprawling Loker Farm acreage bordering Nonesuch Pond in Weston.

After 50 years in Weston, The Rivers School has evolved into a place where student opportunities for personal growth are numerous throughout the year. In addition to a diverse academic, athletic and artistic program, Rivers offers its students -- as well as other youths in the community -- enrichment opportunities through its acclaimed Rivers School Conservatory, Rivers Day Camp and Camp Nonesuch.

As Rivers approaches its 100th anniversary, one fact remains constant. Inspired by an outstanding faculty, Rivers students are encouraged to find their passions and pursue them vigorously. Students continually reach new heights of excellence thanks to a faculty that provides an environment of creativity, challenge and caring.

The Rivers School describes itself as a community that upholds the values expressed in the Rivers seal: “Integritas et Sedulitas.”

Integritas: Integrity. We value responsibility, honesty, compassion, diversity, and respect, acknowledging that our actions have a profound impact on ourselves, on others, on the environment, and on the community as a whole.

Sedulitas: Perseverance. We acknowledge that the diligent pursuit of intellectual, creative, physical, and moral excellence is essential to one’s strength of character.

30 March, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

30 March, 1944        1100

Dearest Sweetheart –

It’s a cold gray day today – the first in over 10 days – a good day to stay in and read. I’ve been out most of the morning and have just returned to the Dispensary. Having signed my name to several more papers, I’m now ready to write you, darling.

Yesterday, again, was just another day, with routine duties, dinner – or supper at 1800, practice on the clarinet after supper – read Time magazine and listen to the radio program until bedtime. A nice quiet routine, sweetheart, but perfectly all right as far as I’m concerned.

After receiving mail the day before yesterday, the battalion was again short changed and there was no mail at all yesterday. I haven’t heard from my folks in some time now – although I don’t doubt there’s some on the way. There’s so many things I crave to know about what’s going on – and all I can do is wonder. I don’t know yet how your folks reacted to my letter – or letters, and I don’t know what my father has accomplished in getting a ring. You see I told him to get one – even before I heard from your folks – because as far as I’m concerned, dearest, the ring is for you, sooner or later, anyway. So I’m still waiting.

I read a letter of yours written the 29th of February. I meant to mention it before – but missed it somehow. You told me about the package you tried to send me which turned out to be too large. Although I know it must have been aggravating to you – excuse me, sweetheart, if I say it sounded funny. And by the way – you say you got me some candy you know I liked. I can’t imagine which kind that is, because I don’t recall ever mentioning anything like that to you. I’m looking forward to it, though, darling, and thanks for the trouble.

You mention a Jewish proverb – which is good, by the way. What interested me was your statement about what the Rabbi would say to us. Do they always say something, darling? I don’t know much about weddings, but I hope he doesn’t take too long saying it. I’ll want to hit the high road as soon as possible – and how about you, dear?

I’m not worrying very much about your weakness when you see blood. Actually very few emergencies are bloody and very few come to your office. After awhile, darling, when I’ve had time to tell you a lot about medicine etc. – when we’re alone and are talking about various cases that occur – I believe you’ll find the whole subject fascinating. I assume, of course, that you will want to discuss such things with me, dear.

Your statement about my folks not calling you, darling, interested me because of your reaction to it. I understand how you must feel – but I’m also glad that you’re thoughtful enough to realize that fundamentally they love you. You must understand my mother completely though to see why she doesn’t call you much. She’s so darned sensitive that she probably doesn’t call for fear that she’ll be disturbing you – or bothering you. That’s a fact, because she’s like that with my sister Ruth. I can remember my sister complaining that my mother didn’t call her often enough and my mother answering that she was afraid she’d be interfering with her work or anything else – and mind you, dear, – that was her own daughter. I’m not trying to excuse her, darling, just to explain her. I know you’re fond of my mother and that’s what counts – because I know how much she thinks of you.

I like to read your thoughts about us sitting around together of an evening – doing anything, but the point being that we’ll be together, just you and I. It’s so nice to think about and ponder over – and I’m so glad you really feel I love you. I feel that way about you and it gives me an indescribable satisfaction. You really didn’t get too much courting from me, darling, but as far as being on my “best behavior” is concerned – I don’t believe in that. I do think we got to know enough of each other to see thru the usual superficialities of new acquaintances and once that was done – we saw each other as real people and fell in love with each other on that basis. I know that we have lots to learn about each others' characteristics, but dear – I think you’ll find I’m just about the same as you already know me. If you love me that way – then I know you won’t change your mind.

I’m going back to the Castle now and get my lunch. I’m a little late – but when I start writing you – I hate to stop. I hope I hear from you, your folks and mine today or mighty soon. I love you, darling, and miss you and I can’t remind you of that fact often enough. Be well, dear, and send my love to your folks. I’ll write tomorrow. For now – so long and

All my love

Greg.

29 March, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

29 March, 1944        1100

Wilma, my darling –

At last we got some mail yesterday, and mine included four letters from you between March 5th and 7th. There must be quite a few more on the way. Gosh it was a wonderful feeling to hear from you. When I don’t hear, you seem so far away; when I do – you’re just sort of out of my sight temporarily. Your letters dealt with interesting subjects, sweetheart and I’ll try to discuss some of them with you.

The “Stan” incident, first of all, is closed as far as I’m concerned, dear. I suspected what was going on and honestly I think you handled it very discreetly. I never did write Stan what I felt like writing because it was hard for me to believe what he was trying to do. Why he’s so desperate is beyond me, dear, but I know that from my talks with him this past summer – his one goal is to tie himself onto some girl who can eventually make things comfortable for him – and it doesn’t make any difference who the girl is – to wit – Shirley, for whom I’m sure he didn’t have any love at all. Of course, darling, I don’t mean that as disparagingly as regards to you. I know he felt I had by far the better of the two girls when we went out together – but I never dreamed that he would operate like that. We’ll be friends, no doubt, but my estimation of him as a man will forever be low. That he would go so far as to try to weaken you by telling you that from what he knows of me I’m running around – was certainly hitting below the belt – especially when I wasn’t around. Sweetheart – you have only to read my letters to find out how much of that I’ve been doing. He apparently doesn’t understand that I’m in love with you for what you yourself are and that’s all that matters to me. He doesn’t understand that I was self-supporting before – and expect to be that – and more when I’m married to you. His own view of marriage – is parasitic, believe me, and he interprets everything from his own point of view. I’ll say this much for Shirley – she’s a very smart girl, because I believe she saw through him. He was an attractive man to be taking her out – and the temptation to have it continue – must have been great.

I always remembered your Mother’s warning to me when I first met you and Stan had been over to see you. She didn’t tell me much – but it was enough to let me know that I couldn’t trust him – much as I hated to believe it. I believe – before that – that your father had implied something about his character, too. They were apparently both quite right.

As for Irv and Verna feeling that you and I weren’t as suitable for each other – as was Stan for you – if it’s true, I’m sorry they felt that way. The fact is – they’re not in a position to talk because as I told you – they didn’t exactly hit it off themselves. Furthermore – I don’t know what they think Stan could offer you in life. Take it from me – and you know yourself – his worldliness is skin deep and what he has picked up from association with fellows like Irv, myself and others. I think you know what I mean.

The gang before the soldiers shipped out
Back row (l to r): Greg, Irv, Stan, unnamed soldier
Front row (l to r): Wilma, unnamed soldier's girl, Verna, Shirley

Anyway, sweetheart, it took a lot of courage for you to write as you did – and I appreciate it. The more I know you dear, the more you grow in stature in my eyes. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and I’m glad. I keep feeling more and more that my wife is going to be the sort of woman I dreamed I’d marry and darling – you’ll be my wife!

Don’t worry about Stan and me. I’ve written a couple of times now – consolation in a way – for his breakup with Shirley, and more recently to tell him about the Zippo which I’ve already mailed out to him. So we’re still friends as far as that goes. I’ll never let him know what I know. It’s just you and I – and no doubt, your folks.

I’ve got to go eat now, my darling. It was wonderful hearing from you – and I can only say that each time I do – I love you more and more. By intent – or otherwise Sweetheart – you are showing me various sides of your character and I love them all. I hope I would get to know you by mail and I am – which means only one thing – it will take us no time to do what we want to do when I get back – Get Married!! Best regards, darling – I love you very deeply and always will.

My sincerest love

Greg.