438th AAA AW BN
APO 4916 % Postmaster N.Y.
Nov. 25, 1943 1120
Dearest Sweetheart –
Today is Thanksgiving here too and I can’t help but wondering dear what it would be like were I back home. The idea of distance and space has not yet left a deep impression upon me, darling; I still can’t seem to realize that getting to the nearest phone won’t help very much. So if I muse a bit, excuse it dear.
I imagine we’d eat at one of our houses – but not until we had spent the morning together somewhere – maybe even at the Boston Latin – Boston English game at Fenway Park. I used to take that game in, as did many of my old high-school friends. It was always a good place to meet up with an old pal.
Anyway, Sweetheart, I wonder what you’re doing, or if you’re home. I imagine you are – if so, I hope you called my folks. My own day is something I can’t talk about – and that reminds me, dear – I haven’t been here long, but we’ve already had 4 or 5 versions of censorship and at this point I’m all confused. The very latest is that about everything we’ve written so far shouldn’t have been written, and that undoubtedly everything was held up to be returned or merely confiscated. If that is so, darling, I don’t know what letters you’ve already received from me, dear, – if any. If you haven’t received very many – remember that it wasn’t because I didn’t write.
Perhaps in a few days, dear, we may be able to get an SOP (standard operating procedure) as to what we actually can or cannot say. At this particular time it consists of nothing in the line of news.
Yet, dear, despite the fact that the other fellows insist there’s no sense in writing now and consequently don’t – I feel that I want to commune with you as much as I can, and somehow, when I sit down to write you a few lines, I feel just that much closer to you, darling. I haven’t been away from you for a very long time – as time goes, but I miss you, dear, like I didn’t believe possible. It’s a healthy longing, though – which creates many many pleasant thoughts about the future. My love for you, darling, will be saved and stored just for you. Of that be certain, because I am. The thought of you never leaves my mind for a moment dear, and for that I am very thankful. It’s easy to get lonesome out here – but when I think back to home and you I get a wonderful lift. I pray dear that the reverse is true.
Right now – I must be on my way. I won’t close this letter – because from experience I’ve already learned of the changing censorship rules. So long for now, Sweetheart
Today is Thanksgiving here too and I can’t help but wondering dear what it would be like were I back home. The idea of distance and space has not yet left a deep impression upon me, darling; I still can’t seem to realize that getting to the nearest phone won’t help very much. So if I muse a bit, excuse it dear.
I imagine we’d eat at one of our houses – but not until we had spent the morning together somewhere – maybe even at the Boston Latin – Boston English game at Fenway Park. I used to take that game in, as did many of my old high-school friends. It was always a good place to meet up with an old pal.
Anyway, Sweetheart, I wonder what you’re doing, or if you’re home. I imagine you are – if so, I hope you called my folks. My own day is something I can’t talk about – and that reminds me, dear – I haven’t been here long, but we’ve already had 4 or 5 versions of censorship and at this point I’m all confused. The very latest is that about everything we’ve written so far shouldn’t have been written, and that undoubtedly everything was held up to be returned or merely confiscated. If that is so, darling, I don’t know what letters you’ve already received from me, dear, – if any. If you haven’t received very many – remember that it wasn’t because I didn’t write.
Perhaps in a few days, dear, we may be able to get an SOP (standard operating procedure) as to what we actually can or cannot say. At this particular time it consists of nothing in the line of news.
Yet, dear, despite the fact that the other fellows insist there’s no sense in writing now and consequently don’t – I feel that I want to commune with you as much as I can, and somehow, when I sit down to write you a few lines, I feel just that much closer to you, darling. I haven’t been away from you for a very long time – as time goes, but I miss you, dear, like I didn’t believe possible. It’s a healthy longing, though – which creates many many pleasant thoughts about the future. My love for you, darling, will be saved and stored just for you. Of that be certain, because I am. The thought of you never leaves my mind for a moment dear, and for that I am very thankful. It’s easy to get lonesome out here – but when I think back to home and you I get a wonderful lift. I pray dear that the reverse is true.
Right now – I must be on my way. I won’t close this letter – because from experience I’ve already learned of the changing censorship rules. So long for now, Sweetheart
Greg
[Note from FOURTHCHILD: This letter is continued on 26 November.]
