11 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

11 April, 1944 1045

Dearest one –

There was no mail yesterday so I’m missing out on the day to day episode of our engagement. However – since I have a good imagination – I fill in what I think must be happening – and then I’ll have your letters to see how far from right I was.

I was thinking yesterday how surprised some of my friends will be who don’t know you or rather had no way of knowing about us; for although several of my friends do know you – I never let them know how close we were getting from point of view of an engagement for the simple reason – something might have gone wrong, or been delayed. So I’m going to get a big kick out of spreading the news. It’s been different with you, dear, being home. Everyone I know is going to pop with curiosity, I’m sure, about who you are, where I met you, where you’re from etc. – and it’s too bad we’re not around to meet them all – but look at the fun we will have! And I’m so sure, darling, that everyone will think you’re ‘swell’ and will be glad for me that I was able to find so charming a girl. Gosh – those will be exciting days when I finally get back! There’ll be so many things to do, and places to go – and with all that there’ll be the important business of getting my practice started – finding a place to live and a hundred other things. Great day in the morning – we’ll make up for all these lonely days away from each other, darling! I won’t let you out of my sight for a moment – you can believe me, dear – because we’ll be far behind in knowing each other – and we’ll have to catch up.

Enough dreaming for now, A.! Yesterday was another quiet day – broken up a bit by a squash game in the p.m. This time I played with a “Leftenant” Stevenson of the British army, home on leave with his family. I met him thru the Reverend and he is as typical a British officer as anything you ever read about or saw in the movies. His father is a physician – a retired Colonel in the Indian Medical Service. When we were thru playing, he asked me up to tea at his house – and we spent a pleasant hour or so up there. I’m playing with him again, tomorrow, Wednesday. He has seen service in N. Africa and Italy and had a good many interesting stories to tell about fighting the Germans.

In the evening, after bathing, I straightened my room and listened to the radio. Bing Crosby, Sinatra and D. Shore were all on one program – really good; I also listened to Radio Theater’s “Men in White” – which I saw on the stage several years ago; and also to Joan Doves and Jack Haley and then, sweetheart – it was time for bed and dreams. As always, I still do my best dreaming and thinking when the lights are out and before I fall asleep. As always now – darling – my thoughts are about you, us, and the future and the thoughts are so aggravatingly pleasant. Oh well – we can sweat it out – can’t we?

That’s all for now, dearest. Love to the family and until tomorrow –

All my deepest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Lux Radio Theater and
Men in White


Studio audience gathering before a live production

Lux Radio Theater, a long-run classic radio anthology series, was broadcast live on the NBC Blue Network (1934-35), CBS (1935-54) and NBC (1954-55). The series adapted Broadway plays during its first two seasons before it began adapting films. These hour-long radio programs were performed live before studio audiences. It became the most popular dramatic anthology series on radio, broadcast for more than 20 years and continued on television as the Lux Video Theatre through most of the 1950s. Cecil B. DeMille took over as the host on June 1, 1936, continuing until January 22, 1945. Lux Radio Theater strove to feature as many of the original stars of the original stage and film productions as possible, usually paying them $5,000 an appearance.

In Men in White, Spencer Tracy plays Dr. George Ferguson, a dynamic young intern whose brilliant future seems assured. In addition to planning to study in Vienna, then to serve as the assistant to his mentor Dr. Hochberg, Ferguson is slated for a socially prestigious marriage to wealthy Laura Hudson. But when Laura begins expressing displeasure over Ferguson's dedication to his work, he enters into a brief affair with student nurse Barbara Dennin. Upon finding that she's pregnant, Barbara desperately undergoes an illegal abortion (a plot point made larger in the movie version, but merely alluded to in the screenplay). The botched operation results in Barbara being rushed into emergency surgery, where her life is in Ferguson's hands. In a third-act climax that would not have seemed out of place on TV's Chicago Hope, Laura finds herself a witness to the operation -- and to Barbara's deathbed "absolution" of Dr. Ferguson's sins.

Here is the first segment found on YouTube, as done by Encore Theatre, starring Robert Taylor.

10 April, 1944 (to her Mother)

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 c/o Postmaster N.Y.

England

10 April 1944

Dear Mother B. –

Your most recent letter to me was as sweet as could be, and as I wrote Wilma, I don’t see how a fellow could possibly acquire another Mother and Dad more easily and with greater pleasure than I have.

I have no doubt about my being able to love, admire and respect my new parents as I do my own – for the fact is you have already created those reactions in me. All we need now is a little closer contact to further those feelings.

I am so glad that you feel I have been able to make Wilma happy. The Lord knows that is just what I wanted to do. I know what she means to you, and I guess you must know what she means to me. She has made me a very happy fellow – happier than I’ve ever been before believe me – and I can think of no greater happiness than a future with Wilma as my wife.

I must repeat what I believe I wrote in an earlier letter. I am gratified in your confidence and faith in me, and your trust in my ability to make a good husband for your daughter. I know you must have given it considerable thought, and I’m glad you didn’t find me wanting.

That’s all for now – except to say that in calling Wilma’s parents – and mine-to-be – Mother and Dad, the pleasure and honor is all mine – and shall always be so. Love to the rest of the family.

Your loving son –

Greg

10 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

10 April, 1944       0930

Dearest Sweetheart –

Again yesterday – I received two up-to-date letters – one from you written March 29 and one from your mother – the same date. Your mother – and mine-to-be is a perfect darling in the way she writes me – and if anyone were ever made to feel welcome into a family, dear, your folks are certainly making me feel that way.

Your own letter of the same date, Sweetheart, only shows how confusion must result when a principal party involved is not around – meaning myself. Were I around, dear, I should have known what you liked and gone about getting it for you in my own way. If things have been confused, darling, and I gather that they have been, excuse it – as I know you are. Why in the world my mother should suddenly suggest that you look for a ring yourself – is beyond me – particularly when my father had written me what he had intended doing. The only possible suggestion for her action was that she wants you to have something you’ll like and she must have figured that was the best way to do it. I hope by now that something has been accomplished – and by my father, without the necessity of troubling your folks – dear – because that’s the way it should be.

I was amused at your reference to Barbara and Steve – and their being excited about us. I keep thinking of them as mere kiddos – and actually they’re growing up to be real people – to wit – they are actually picking out names for our children. Their selections weren’t so bad at that – although I’ll bet several other factors will enter the situation when the blessed time comes.

Wilma with Greg's nephew and niece, Steve and Barbara

Yes, darling, I am excited – and unfortunately I can’t share it with anyone, not really, anyway. For the fact is that every one in the Army has his own particular worry or pleasure or problem – and anyone else’s is fundamentally not his concern. My excitement really comes in reading your letters in detail and reconstructing every possible scene in my mind’s eye; and in letters from your folks and mine – because, darling, I’m really living in Massachusetts and not in England, or so it seems anyway.

Yesterday, Sunday, was a very quiet day and I didn’t move out of the Castle all day. I read Time Magazine, some old funnies, a couple of articles in some medical journals and listened to the radio. I don’t really know what I’d do without the latter. Besides keeping us up to date with the news – no other single factor except for your letters, dear, has made me feel that I still belong in the U.S. Yesterday, for example, I was able to hear – at different times of the day – and much like a Sunday at home – Sammy Kaye, André Kostelanitz, Baby Snooks, Frank Morgan, and Jack Benny – and they try to put these programs on the air as close to possible to the times we used to hear them. If you sit back, close your eyes and dream – you can easily be carried back home – and darling, that’s what I do all the time – and without the radio. You are always in the picture – waiting for me and it is therefore perfect. Now that I’m to be engaged to you, darling, I don’t know how I can tell you more forcibly that I love you and miss you – but if there is a way, dear – I’m trying to do just that. I’m the happiest guy in the E.T.O. and you’ve made me so sweetheart.

My love to the folks – and to you – a special brand of love for always, darling

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about The Baby Snooks Show


Fanny Bryce as Baby Snooks

The following was excerpted from The Baby Snooks Show page on Wikipedia.

The Baby Snooks Show was an American radio program which began on CBS September 17, 1944 and aired on Sundays at 6:30pm. The show starred comedienne and Ziegfeld Follies alumna Fanny Brice as a mischievous young girl. Hanley Stafford was best known for his portrayal of Snooks' long-suffering, often-cranky father, Lancelot "Daddy" Higgins, who ended most shows by gently spanking his daughter for her misdeeds, such as planting a bees' nest at her mother's club meeting, cutting her father's fishing line into little pieces, ripping the fur off her mother's coat, inserting marbles into her father's piano and smearing glue on her baby brother.

Brice began doing her Baby Snooks character in vaudeville, as she recalled many years later: "I first did Snooks in 1912 when I was in vaudeville. At the time there was a juvenile actress named Baby Peggy and she was very popular. Her hair was all curled and bleached and she was always in pink or blue. She looked like a strawberry ice cream soda. When I started to do Baby Snooks, I really was a baby, because when I think about Baby Snooks it's really the way I was when I was a kid. On stage, I made Snooks a caricature of Baby Peggy."

By 1934 she was wearing her baby costume while appearing on Broadway in the Follies show. In 1940, she became a regular character on Maxwell House Coffee Time. In 1944, the character was given her own show, and during the 1940s, it became one of the nation's favorite radio situation comedies.  Here is a recording from 4 November, 1943.

09 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

9 April, 1944       1030

Dearest darling Wilma –

Easter Sunday – and a bad day here. It’s really a shame, too, for there have been so many nice days recently. Easter Sunday – and the war in Europe is still on – contrary to prognosticators, seers, dreamers, et al. We’ve now passed Christmas and are passing Easter and I wonder when the next time limit will be announced. There’s only one hope I have of an unexpected break in the war and that is the way the last war ended. Right up to the end – no one suspected anything – and then suddenly it was over. Maybe the same will occur this time.

Meanwhile, sweetheart, in the midst of all this waiting and lonesomeness – I am completely happy, content, satisfied and relaxed – and it’s all due to you, darling, and to what has happened to us in this past Summer, Winter and Spring. To have dreamed that it could happen would have been truly only dreaming, and I still have to reassure myself, dear, from time to time that things are as they are between us. It almost doesn’t seem possible that we could have met as we did and then carry on just as if I were still around. And yet when I think it over – as I am doing continuously it seems – there’s no doubt in my mind that all this would have happened had I stayed around. I knew I loved you when I left and I would have followed up that love to its natural conclusion. And that’s what makes our becoming engaged so real, sensible and natural – despite its unusual aspect.

Sweetheart – I got your letter of March 28 – yesterday – which is the first time in a long while that the mail service in this direction has been so good. I also heard from my dad – letter written on the same day – and both letters were the ones I had been waiting for. They told me what I wanted to know – and believe me, dearest, last month was really a long long month for me.

I don’t know how to describe my own reactions. It’s all so new to me. For the past half dozen years or more – all around me my friends were getting engaged, attached, married etc – and I just seemed to be by the wayside – watching the passing parade. Nothing was happening to me. Now that it is, I can hardly make myself believe that it is I who is involved this time. I would undoubtedly find it novel and exciting were I home to enjoy its realities; you can imagine then, darling what a mixture of emotion I’m having when my fiancée, mine, mind you – is 3000 miles away, and when I don’t have the pleasure of being with her, or of seeing the happiness of her folks and mine. But your letters, dear, are vivid – and I’m getting the picture of what’s going on back home – and I can repeat only – that I’ve never been happy before – the way I am now. To have our folks feel the way they do about the whole thing – is added blessing. From my father’s letter it is obvious that they’re thrilled and happy. I believe they always worried about what would happen to me – alone in Salem, and to have me meet and become engaged to as lovely a girl as you are – must make them feel beside themselves with joy. I hope, darling, that your folks are as pleased about it as my folks are.

What follows from here, darling, is detail. By now I know my dad must have purchased a ring. I don’t know his taste. I hope only that it is one you like and will be proud to wear. I don’t know either when you will start wearing it. Darling – when you do – know this: that for me it signifies all that is good and noble between two people who are pledged to marry, that it is my promise that I am for you alone, for always, and that in my mind and heart it is a token of my desire to be your husband – one day – and to assume the loyalty, responsibility, devotion – and love that a husband should have for a wife. For me, dear, the ring is a symbol of all that’s to come and may the Lord bless us and help us fulfill what I feel.

So long for now, Sweetheart; be well, my love to the folks – and by our engagement – whenever it is – you have made me enduringly happy, no matter what lies ahead.

All my truest love –

Greg.

08 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

8 April, 1944        0930

Darling Wilma –

Well the first day of our being alone here passed by rather uneventfully. There just wasn’t a darn thing to do around. Being Good Friday – the town was closed up in its entirety. After lunch I took a nap for the first time in a long while – I mean a real nap. The net result was that despite going to bed for the night at about 2330 – I didn’t sleep too well. One thing, darling, you’ll not have to worry about – and that is sleeping away the time. I’ve always felt that it’s really a great waste. I’d much rather be up doing something. Of course, sweetheart, that’s from a single man’s point of view.

When I got up – I washed and decided to ride down to the Dispensary on my bike. On the way down – I passed Mrs. Whitfield – who was also on a bike. She is the woman who was trying to get us ration coupons – presumably for Mother’s Days gifts. She had tried to contact me to tell me that her efforts were unsuccessful but that she and a friend of hers would like to give Charlie and me some of their own. I of course refused. Anyway – she invited me to supper at her house tonight at 1930. She wants me to meet her son – you remember he was the fellow who went to the Rivers School in Brookline while she was traveling in the U.S. So I accepted – although I wished she had asked me to come over another night. It means, dear, that I play squash in the p.m., then have tea with the Reverend and his wife and then dinner. What a way to fight a war! It will be a full day – but I’ll have nothing to do the rest of the week.

After supper – the four of us went up to one of the rooms to play bridge. I hadn’t played in a long time although I’ve tried not to get rusty by reading Culbertson’s problem hands – a column presented daily in the Phila. Inquirer which Charlie gets.

All would have been well, sweetheart, but from nowhere one of the fellows – Bruce – produced a full bottle of Haig and Haig Scotch. Paradoxically – it’s rarer in this country than at home. We kept drinking – for me it was the first hard liquor in some time – and playing, drinking and playing and then drinking and drinking. When the bottle was finished dear, my partner – Bill Bowman – and myself were down – two rubbers to one. So we decided to go downstairs to the main drawing room and play the games off in ping-pong. You can imagine what a game of doubles we played. We ended up winning two and six ($.50). By game’s end we were all running around downstairs in shorts, whooping it up and running all over the place. Try and imagine 4 guys a little bit tight running around in a place this size. And that’s how I spent the first night of Passover, darling, – not very religiously I’ll grant you – but what could I do? It was a good escape mechanism – that’s all.

I got mail yesterday, dear, one V-mail from you – written March 22 and I can gather now why there was so much delay in our exchange of letters. Apparently something went haywire around the middle of March – and just when we wanted to hear from each other most – there were days on end of no mail. If I hadn’t received your dad’s cablegram – I’d still be hanging around on thin air – so thank him again darling for sending it. Now I’m waiting to hear what has followed. It’s so nice to be in love with you, dearest, and to know that you are really going to be mine. It makes my missing you a mixture of satisfaction and patience – and you must know what I mean. Sweetheart – I do miss you so much – it’s hard to measure – but I can wait for you as you’re doing for me and when we have each other – it will all have been worth it. Best regards and love to the folks – darling and remember sweetheart that my love is only for you and for always –

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Whitby and Whitby Jet

In yesterday's letter Greg mentioned that most of his unit went to Whitby to do what they did in Wellfleet. Earlier letters identified that activity as firing practice. He said he was sorry he wasn't going. Here's "That little sea-coast town" that he missed.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

The Route of the Question Mark mentioned "Whitby Jet". Whitby Jet, a hard, black, shiny gem closely related to coal, was undoubtedly one of the earliest gemstones used to create artefacts and items of jewelery and has a cultural heritage that extends back to early tool making man. This history can be charted from the Bronze age, through the Roman occupation and Viking invasions and onwards to its meteoritic climb to fame in the mid 19th century Victorian England. During the Victorian period, when the ritual surrounding death and the long mourning of Queen Victoria made black fashionable, jet became hugely popular. Although jet is found elsewhere in the world, it is the jet from Whitby that excites collectors to such an extent that even jet jewelry manufactured elsewhere is often called Whitby Jet.

Jet Mourning Brooch

Whitby Jet's geological history starts in the middle of the Jurassic era, some 150 million years ago at the bottom of the Liassic Sea, which then covered much of England. Fossil evidence from this fascinating era is abundant and easily detected in the cliffs and on the beaches that adjoin Whitby to the North and South. Jet is the fossilized remains of the Araucaria tree from the Jurassic period and is only found along a seven and a half mile stretch of the North Yorkshire coastline centered around Whitby. (The common name of the Araucaria tree is the Monkey-puzzle tree or Chilean pine.)

On the floor of the sea there had already been deposits of materials that subsequently became the Main Seam Ironstone, and on top of this there were deposits of mud being washed down the rivers from adjoining landmass, forming an ever-increasing sedimentary layer. The Araucaria trees formed a significant part of the vegetable debris washed into the Liassic Sea and gradually became waterlogged. The accumulation of mud plus the weight of sea above produced enormous pressures and the individual trees were flattened into narrow 'seams'. The glutinous nature of the sedimentary layer completely sealed these seams and pockets of wood and an anaerobic fossilization slowly took place. Thus the new stratum of rock then being formed contained a plethora of these trees, scattered entirely at random. Jet is usually found in seams ranging from 5mm to 50mm thick and in a variety of lengths.

More about Whitby and Whitby Jet can be read where much of this information was gleaned, The Whitby Jet Heritage Centre web site. The following video of master carver and Whitby native restoration artist, Hal Redvers-Jones, was found there.

07 April, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 578 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

7 April, 1944       1015

My dearest darling –

Tonite is Passover and although I was unable to be at the services at home last year, somehow it was different. For one thing, I remember I was in Tennessee at the time and I was able to call home and at least speak to the folks late that afternoon. Another difference is that I didn’t have a sweetheart who might have been able to attend the services with me were I home. I don’t know what plans have materialized between you and my family but I hope you will be able to be with them some part of the holidays. I know it will make them feel better. Gosh how I’d like to be home with the family and you – all seated around the table, drinking wine and making merry. We’ll have a lot of fun, someday, darling – and I hope it’s not too far off.

At the present moment I’m at the Castle. It’s very quiet right now, the reason being that there are only 3 other officers besides myself staying here. The rest of us have gone to do what we did at Wellfleet on good old Cape Cod – remember, dear? Ordinarily I’ve always gone on such things but the colonel wanted one MC to remain behind to help watch over things so I decided to stay. It will be a sort of vacation for me except that I’ll be rather tied down to the immediate area. They’ll be gone about the usual length of time.

I believe I told you, darling, about playing squash with a Reverend Bell of the boys’ school. I’m supposed to meet him again tomorrow p.m. for another match. He called me yesterday to ask if I’d like to come and have tea after the game – at his home. He said his wife would like to meet me. It was nice of him to call and I accepted. They live right near the castle. Tea, of course, darling is the thing in England, from the poorest to the wealthiest – and I really think they have something. Always at 1600 – everyone stops to have tea. It means that they eat their evening meal rather late – namely about 1930 – but it does help break up the day nicely. Their tea is very bitter, however, and they always drink it with milk in it – which I never liked particularly. I think I’ll bring the Reverend some tobacco. He smokes, and anyone in England who does smoke appreciates American tobacco – whether its cigarettes, cigars or for smoking.

Other then that – I have no plans at all. I’ve almost given up on the movies in this town. I went last night again and saw two awful English pictures – one with Clive Brook – remember him? They were really sad. One nice thing about this theater, though, is the fact that at the end of the show they play the Star Spangled Banner and then ‘God Save the King’ – and you’d be surprised what a kick you get out of singing our own National Anthem – when you’re away from your own country.

Well, darling, I guess I’m kind of thinking of home a lot in today’s letter – but it’s because I miss all of you so much. I love you, dear, and would love so much to be with you again. We were so happy together – even with the war over our heads; how much more happy we’ll be when the war is over, when we’re married and living together in Salem – living and planning things together. I have so much faith in you and the future, darling, that I know all will turn out as we want it to.

My love to your folks, sweetheart, and for now, so long.

All my deepest love, dear

Greg.

Route of the Question Mark

A continuation of Page 20 from The Route of the Question Mark is transcribed below, naming the Wellfleet-like firing practice location as Whitby.

page 20
Calisthenics in the stable yard... The twins... Calisthenics for Officers on the castle lawn... The restriction of the First Three Graders... The Officers parties in the castle... The dances at Digby Hall... Morning coffee at Coombs'... The baseball games on the lawn, and the day the team lost the game to "D" battery and we all went broke... Sun-bathing on the lead roof of the castle... Putting names on the trucks and trailers; Gigged Again, Yankee Gum, and Back-Breaker... The firing practice at Whitby, and the exciting life in that little sea-coast town... Whitby jet...

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.