06 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

6 April, 1944    ;   1245

Dearest sweetheart –

In writing you yesterday, I forgot to thank you for the package you sent me. I got it late yesterday afternoon and in excellent condition. I re-read the letter you sent me the day you finally sent it off and got another laugh. Couldn’t you get a larger bottle for the hair tonic, darling? You are either counting on a long war or you figure there’s still a chance. At any rate, dear, I shall find good use for it. The candy was perfect and I’m still enjoying it.

I’ve just had lunch. I have to be at the Dispensary in one hour and I’ll be busy most of the afternoon thereafter – so I thought I’d start writing you now. There was no mail yesterday – but that cablegram sure took the sting out of waiting – and now I’ve changed from a state of anxiety to one of pleasant curiosity. I’m still a little in a fog when I stop to realize what has happened or is happening to both of us – but it’s such a pleasant fog, darling. I hope your folks are genuinely convinced that it wasn’t the wrong decision to make. I feel that it wasn’t and I know you do. The rest is up to us – and we won’t let them down.

In one of your letters I received several days ago, darling, you tell me you’ve stored up a great deal of love for me. Well – that’s what I’m doing with my love for you, dear, storing it. That’s all we can do with our love – now, but I know it will be worth it. Just when I was getting so I could say nice things to you – I had to leave. You know, dear – I did tell you that it had always been rather difficult for me to sound affectionate etc. I was learning fast though. I don’t think it will take me long to pick up where I left off. You’ll be the judge of course – sweetheart – that is – if you’re still conscious when I’m through – and I’ll always be in love with you, too, dear – because I’m like my father a great deal and I know you’re aware of how much he’s still in love with my mother. It’s a wonderful example of what love should really be, dear, and I’ve had a good opportunity all my life to observe it.

You mentioned making a pair of socks for Mr. Clark. My own socks are in my trunk, dear. I’ve been reluctant to wear them very often because things get lost so darn easily in the Army – and I would like to bring them back with me for sentimental reasons.

In regards to Jane Austin’s works – for the time being, at any rate, I won’t be able to do very much. Where we’re situated now – it is out of the question altogether. I guess the only place you could find something well-bound would be in London – and my chances of getting back to visit there are appearing slimmer daily. But I’ll keep it in mind and might come across it some day by accident.

Darling – that’s all for now. I’ve got to go along. I hope to hear from you again soon, but I don’t mind waiting so much – now. Best regards home, dear and for the time being

My sincerest love –

Greg.

05 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

5 April, 1944        1045

My own darling –

I wrote your folks last night after receiving your Dad’s cablegram. What can I say to you sweetheart, that I didn’t say to them? Darling – after reading the message over and over – I was left in a fog, a happy one. I was so thrilled I couldn’t collect my thoughts for a couple of hours afterwards. I realized that what I had hoped for so much – was actually going to happen – and I just can’t believe I’m fortunate enough to have that happen to me. When I can officially call you my fiancée – matters very little. The point is that your folks have given us their blessing and that was all that was needed to complete the picture. I was really concerned about the delay in hearing from them until I realized through your more recent letters that they didn’t hear from me as soon as they should have. Anyway, Sweetheart – every thing is wonderful now and it will take me a little while yet to let everything sink in. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m aware of what it means, though, dearest. I have a real honest-to-goodness responsibility – one that serves as my goal – and I know I’ll not let you down.

Meanwhile I have to sit on edge until more of the details trickle in. That’s where you have the advantage on me, sweetheart. You know what’s going on – just when it’s going on – and I have to imagine. But your own job wasn’t an easy one – and I shall ever be grateful to you, darling, for helping to steer us where we both wanted to go. I hope you’re as happy as I am and I wish it were possible to kiss and hug you the way you should be by me – but we’ll have our lives ahead of us to do that, darling, and I know now that you’re a good waiter.

Back here – there’s nothing new to report except as I wrote you before, it must be obvious to everyone that something big is in the wind soon. Just where we’ll fit into it is still a puzzle to me – which is as it should be, because if we knew it wouldn’t do us any good anyway. Anyway, darling, right now everything is going along smoothly. I’m getting plenty of rest and the right kind of exercise. In that connection – I remember writing yesterday that I would tell you about playing squash.

The school here has some excellent squash courts. I managed to be introduced to the Reverend of the school – a man of about 40. He has a lovely home in town. Yesterday we played squash – and incidentally, he trimmed me hands down. But we both got an excellent workout and we have an appointment to play again on Saturday next. I think I can beat him as soon as I get into shape again. I was short of breath yesterday from not having had any real exercise for a long time – such as long, hard kissing – which as you know, dear, develops the wind wonderfully.

Charlie and Pete, by the way, both of whom saw the cablegram last night – send their best wishes and good luck. They tell me I’m a complete “goner” – but I know they both think I’m very lucky.

I’ll have to stop writing now, dearest. I’m a very happy guy and I know you must feel the same way. I await further details anxiously. My love to your folks and best regards to the family. For now, sweetheart, so long and

All my love forever, darling

Greg.

04 April, 1944 (to her parents)

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 c/o Postmaster N.Y.

England

4 April 1944

Dear Folks –

A short time ago I received your Cablegram. It had gone thru many diverse spots apparently before reaching me. I had no idea what the envelope contained – and when I opened it, I read the message twice before I realized its full meaning. I thereupon gave out a full-lunged whoop and explained to the fellows around me why I was so happy.

It seems like ages since I wrote you last telling you how I felt about Wil – and I wasn’t sure just how you would take it. The past few weeks have been uneasy ones for me for just that reason. It’s pretty difficult to convey by letter the emotion expressed in a firm shaking of the hand and a kiss – things I would like to do were I around. I can say only that you have made me infinitely more happy than I can ever remember being before. I admire your understanding, and trust in me, and I promise to do what is in my power now and in the future to make Wilma happy and therefore you, too, I know.

Needless to say, you know how my folks feel about Wilma. They truly love her and I know she’s very fond of them. I’m certain that when I return everything will work out well and that we’ll all make up for lost time. I was very fond of you both before I left. Perhaps I wasn’t very demonstrative. I guess I’m slow in that respect but on the other hand, I don’t think I’m very flighty – and when I get to love someone I do so sincerely.

I’m still a little awhirl as a result of the cablegram, but I am fully aware of what it means and the responsibility that goes with it. You’ve made me very happy and I hope to be able to make you so too. For now – so long and love to Wilma.

Love

Greg.

The long-awaited cablegram!

CLICK ON CABLEGRAM TO ENLARGE

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.