October 1, 1944

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310.14.1-9.2016 Transcription

 

1 Oct 44

after Trinity Service

My dearest,

This letter is going to be

so much more a pleasure than the

one last night—that is, so

much more a pleasure to write

as I now finally have some time.

Lordy! I can never remember having

had to write so fast. When I

stated yesterday was (QUOTE) “full,”

I should have said hyper-super-full.

Many times I have been

glad that you took your Masters

Degree at Northwestern-U in the

Dept of Logic & here this Fall is

just further proof as you can now

grab that job teaching sophomore

Logic. Infact your rationalizations

have always been “tops” c̅[1] me & may

they continue on while I am

away from being able to help you,

which I would so love to be

able to do—all my feeble-

mind could do to help you would

[2]

be to make only very slight

variations in your decisions.

Infact, I am so p[r]oud of you

darlin’, that I am going to

tell Aunt Katherine [I hope!][2] all about

my very “tops” wife a day or two

after our “long-distance-[REMOTE-CONTROL][3]-Birthday-

Party” is over. Gee! I surely hope

I will have a really full chance

to “brag-you-up” to Aunt Katherine.

Before I forget—the

woman photographer at the Dunbar

Studio was notified that you

would spank me good if I

did not smile on some of those

pictures. Well—she said,

“You certainly smiled nicely, as

best I could judge, on two of

those picture-shots.” So there!—see!**!

She only took 4 exposures—

I guess it was because of time,

& rush, & maybe war shortage of film,

Also, I forgot to tell you something

[3]

that I meant to tell because

I know it will please you—

I ran all over down-town Columbia

to borrow a cap-Pershing AND after

finally borrowing a cap from

a mens store, I ran all over town

a second time to borrow an

officers emblem to put on the

cap as apparently metal shortage

runs even into emblems. So,

all in all dear, your picture

shouldn’t be too far off from

what your wish would be.

Again, I am very very pleased

that I could arrange things

as 100% as I did for you! WHOOPIE!

Oh, yes, I didn’t explain that your C.O. had

known I was down town during day hours

he would [ARMY SLANG][4] “Chew my butt”!!

Nobody seems to know if

our mail has been censored in

the past weeks, & if it has not as

yet started, when it will start.

One never knows nuthin’ in the Army.

[4]

Do you know that I go to

bed shortly after 9.P.M most every

night? It may sound funny but

already I am in a pretty well

fixed habit of 9 oclock retiring.

Another point I forgot to

tell Terry[5] in my letter to him

last night was that my pistol

range firing yesterday was the

first time I had ever really

fired a .45 automatic [(a big lumocks gun)][6] (Guess maybe

I pulled Clyde’s trigger 2 or 3 times at the most).

Thus, this all sounds a bit like

braggin’ but it really isn’t—

it is just that Terry has thanks

to offer his “god-uncle” Clyde

Fields for having drilled the

fundamentals into Pop so well.

Sumthin’ else I forgot to

tell you about the “port[r]ait-ing”

See if you can tell that the

2nd Army patch (the #2) is only “stuck”

on c̅ 2 pins. Gee, I almost

[5]

forgot to put it on & remembered

it just about 5 seconds before she

clicked the first camera shutter.

What a melê!—she ran next

door to borrow pins & all she

could dig up was 2 pins to hold

the patch on my shoulder. P.S. She says

you or nobody else could tell it was only “stuck”

on, but just see if you can tell—I doubt it.

Just to be point blank—

no! no! no! you did not make

any mistake (or “wrong”) by writing

your “deductions” out as you

did. That is what I wanted

you to do, dear. The only

potential pit-fall is that you [might][7]

“read” too much—& this

pit-fall you have [already][8] seen & corrected

yourself. Bravo! Just remember,

dear, I never will be able to

get too many things into a

“silly-paragraph”. Again, my “sillyness”

is just the forerunner/’”forewarner”.

[6]

Oh! oh! in rereading your

first letter requesting portrait

“shooting” I see I had not appreciated

a word you wrote viz. “…in

your winter uniform c̅ & [9] your

cap Pershing on….” Dear, those

pictures are all c̅ the cap on.

of course I never received this (above) letter

until 3 days after the pictures were taken so

I just could not have read it anyway. BUT

honestly, dear, my hair was in

such a filthy, smashed down,

touseled mess from wearing

combat helmets all day long

that I just didn’t dare take

that cap off. Gee, whiz, here I thought

I had been able to please you 100% but now

I get my percentage knocked down—boo,

hooo, booo, hooo!—how far are you going

to knock my percentage down to??—I

hope not lower than 97%--& anyhoooo,

I should bounce right back up to 100%

considering circumstances/rush/difficulties.

Say! did you give that

2nd Army patch to Gwen’s friend

for her little boy? Please don’t forget.

[7]

There is something I could have

written in Terry’s letter last night

had I had time, but again I say

I cant ever remember having had

to write so fast. However, I

supposed you snooped your darn

nose into his mail so I

may as well tell you this point:-

Maybe now it is a little clearer

why I got so damned mad

every time I was further denied

a chance to learn those weapons,

BECAUSE I had a vague hunch

that c̅ half a chance I might

“win” something for Terry to

“wear”/wear. Really, I never dreamed

that I could shoot that highest

catagory (Marksman àSharpshooter àExpert) but

I at least hoped I could get one

catagory for him to wear. Of course

I already have (had) a Marksman

category c̅ the carbine but lots of

guys have that & there is nuthin’

particularly special about a carbine

Marksman. On the other hand, it is

[8]

stated that the .45 automatic

pistol is the most difficult of those

3 weapons (Carbine, Gurand-MI rifle, & .45 pistol)

to shoot & this any father’s son

would think the highest catagory

in pistol was really sumpin’!!

Dear, haven’t you ever seen how cute little boys

are if they can strut around c̅ something of

their dad’s that is “treasured” amongst men

well, I can dream can’t I??! Soooo, if

all this pistol Expert stuff seems

kinda silly/superfluous/much-

a-do-about-nuthin’ to a woman,

you just go ask my Pal Thump[10]

& he will tell you that he is

tickled as pink as is his Pop about

it all. So there!—see!Ü!«!

Anyhooo, even if you are a silly non-understanding

woman about these man’s-things, Thump & I

still love you moistest in the world. Honest!!

Dearest, --regarding

your “apologizing” for me being in

the Army—please just

have NO FEELINGS ABOUT IT AT

ALL—PLEASE!! You say that you

[9]

don’t know what was wrong c̅

you & that you guess you evere

crazy c̅ grief—WELL, PLEASE JUST

DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT ALL THAT EVER

AGAIN, DEAREST—I once had an

explanation that I never could say to you &

I don’t imagine I eve rwill be able to say

it to you, BUT ALL THAT “PERIOD”

SEEMS SO SMALL & MEAN-

INGLES & UNIMPORTANT &

WILL ALWAYS BE SO.

Soooo, you Precious Thing, don’t

ever even think again about

any part of it. I tell ya’—

here is the best way (incidentally

my way too) about looking at all

of these things—it is

certainly T-R-O-U-B-L-E, this

whole maze of things. Well,--

the Trouble-of-being-apart; the

Trouble-of-my-not-being-able-to-

help-you- c̅ -Terry; the Trouble-of-

war-soldiering in its billion

respects; etc; etc are all T-R-O-

U-B-L-E to make you & me better

people because of it. Dearest, any

[10]

day or anytime you feel as you

did when you wrote that letter of

Sept 27, just open Bishop Brents

Day Book—there before you

in a total whole on Day #23-Day#24

you see in a grand panoramic

total The Answer to EVERYTHING IN

LIFE THAT that every causes you

or me or Thump any heartache/

regret/unfathomable thought. Never

never fail to open that Day Book

to that place, my dearest, & may

God help you to remember to open

the Day Book to split second

any such category of feelings arises.

Just at your leisure; darlin’,

start peering around for me to

find another Day Book. Mine is

practically “threadbare” & falling

apart (P.S. FROM USE). I will be very

mad at you if you send me

your only copy so please dont

you dare do that as mine is

[11]

still readable, but I may start

losing pages from now on.

Bishop Lewis (505 Ridge St. c/o Bishops House)

can always help you find one.

There is no hurry about this,

Dear,—just anytime in the

next month.

I could write pages about

correcting the unfortunate mis-

understandings on both your part

& my part re: that phone call + telegr.

the other night. Lets summarize

it as this #1 a should-be-murdered-

South[er]n-phone-operator, plus 116th

“heat”, etc, had me off the beam; and

#2 foggy depressive day, plus

neophytic “education” in

“informational-letters” had you off

the beam. P.S. You did not “lose your head”—so there!!

P.S. #2 Just to hear you was so worth it to me too.

S U P P E R

Oh, joy! Oh, boy! what a 100%

perfect Sunday this has been! Nice

service at Trinity; Chicken in the

mess hall; a whole day (BELIEVE IT OR NOT)

[12]

just writing & dreaming & writing

& dreaming [I write a sentence to you & then

dream a book, etc, etc][11] to you all day long

AND now that super swell

registered-airmail-special! WHEE!

[P.S. Before I forget, never waste your special delivery

stamps on big Army posts—the mail sargent says

they do not make one single bit of difference.][12]

Gee! golly! whee! Whoopie! Oh, boy!

I must confess that I never expected to lay my

eyes on those baby pictures while on U.S.A soil.

Sincerely & honestly dear, I love

those pictures heaps, but WHY!

must that guy in the del printing

room of the photo company mess

them up so. Oh, yes, both c̅ & s̅ your

permission I “TOOK-CAR[E]-OF” that boootiful

picture of me. OK?—O.K.! Promise me

you will do the same if Frank Brown sends

a duplicate. I will scoot the

pictures right back registered

mail tomorrow when the P.O will

again be open. I wrote freely

(tho I’d like to have written gobs) on the back

of some of them. On three of them I

wrote Roman numeral I-II-III. I

would like each & every one to

[13]

carry but by being foresighted [there

goes Wilitzski[13] again!][14] I realize that over

the course of time I just must

keep [only][15] the snaps that warm my

heart most & return the other

ones (even tho they are very nice) because

I won’t have room in my safe &

protective picture-holder to carry

all as I would like to do. I

remember carefully how you hated

to let any of these photos get out

of your sight, dearest, so I am

sending them all back. Please

send me the #I, #II, & #III photos

when Frank Brown complies.

P.S. Thanks a lot for the just-right address book.

Now!—I so want

to be able to express something

on paper. Maybe I can, so heres

hoping. Your letter quotes Dr Barnes

[roughly][16] re: “it ([Terry’s] heart condition)….luckily…

…that doesn’t seem to bother him

much” (UNQUOTE). Dearest, from the

minute I saw that lovely little

boy I knew that it would

[14]

take “everything-in-the-kitchen-sink”

just hurled at him to ever

slow-him-down or “knock-him-

for-the-count”—he has so

very very wonderfully much of

“WHAT-IT-TAKES”.  (Gee, I’m almost crying).

Anyhooo, what I am trying to

say is that he is so fine, so

dynamic, so tough-a-little-egg

that he could/can/& has “take[n]”

the nastiest “knocks” & still

battle[d] right back. Oh, I know!

I know! I know! so positively

that God is helping him

pack those whollops [sic] that he

is dishing out. Prematurity?—

socko!! Dehydration?—socko!

Cardiac embarrassment?—socko!

Lung congestion?—socko! Gee,

dearest, how I-N-A-T-E “socko”

is so God-given—so God-sent!

And I never forget for a minute

[15]

my thoughts & statement to you

one hour after he was born—

You, dearest, make such very

very nice babies inside you!

I love you both, sooo-

Dave

 

[1] Medical abbreviation meaning “with.”

[2] Bracketed text written above line and inserted with a caret.

[3] Bracketed text written above the line, with arrows pointing upwards from “long-distance.”

[4] Bracketed text is part of original.

[5] Their infant son.

[6] Bracketed text inserted into original with a caret.

[7] Bracketed text written up the right-side margin and inserted with a caret.

[8] Bracketed text inserted into original with a caret.

[9] Medical abbreviation meaning “without.”

[10] Nickname for their infant son, Terry.

[11] Bracketed text is part of original.

[12] Bracketed text is part of original.

[13] His nickname for himself.

[14] Bracketed text is part of original.

[15] Bracketed text inserted into original with a caret.

[16] Bracketed text is part of original.

October 1, 1944