My darling,
Hello Terry, how are you; still as lovely as ever? I'm hearing from you regularly now. A wonderful feeling, putting it mildly.
I just got back from a pass the other day. Spent two days in London town. Plenty of Scotch and I took advantage of the situation. Didn't have to worry about flying, and I really let loose. No hangovers either, it surprised me alright.
By the time you receive this, you'll know that Bern has been bombed by day light. Our plane had to return alone due to a little trouble, so I can't say I was one of the first. Isn't that terrible, or is it?
We lost Bill Ferri. He couldn't stand the strain, cracked wide open and had to quit. He's a private now and doesn't feel so good about it. He's the last one that I thought would turn yellow, but I've been wrong before. I pray all the time that I won't do the same thing! I couldn't live with myself if I quit, it would do things to me. You can realize that, can't you darling?
This combat is starting to tell one me. We had a party last night with no mission on for today so I soaked myself in plain unadulterated Scotch. I felt pretty rough and got in the fighting mood - today the captain I had words (?) with couldn't figure out what it was all about - neither could I. But we're friends again and all is forgotten. And I'm usually so happy and carefree when I'm on the bleary side. It's good for the something or other, I don't know.
I'll probably go on a mission tomorrow. That means not so much sleep tonight. Things are tough all over, aren't they?
Darling, I miss you so much. I crave the touch of you and to hear your voice once again. It all seems so far away, so long to wait. When I come back, you'll have a problem on your hands. Will you mind? We'll have a lot to make up for; won't we? Terry, you lovely, loveable little woman, you're in for more loving than any other person would ever want. My wife - I' still can't believe it - it's too good to be true. We'll make them know it, darling, yes, we'll really make them know it when I get back.
I suppose that you're having snow and cold weather. It's getting near that time when the birds will start singing and the sun will be getting warmer. It's been cold here lately, but today I saw the sun for 15 min in a row. Looks like we'll be getting a little liveable weather here soon too.
Well, Terry sweet, got to get some sleep so I'll be ready for tomorrow's job. If I'm not too tired, I'll write tomorrow, but if I don't, it will be as soon as I can.
I'll say so long then. Until next time all my love and loads of affection.
Your future husband,
Jim
P.S. I got your kiss, mmm!!
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Friday afternoon, February 25, 1944
Darling,
Hello Terry, just a note to let you know that all is well. I'm sitting in the club this afternoon, just laying around doing nothing but day dreaming, thinking about you, but of course!
I've been grounded since Wednesday due to a little experience I had. Darling, I've found the Caterpillar Club as of the other day I've still got the rip cord handle for a souvenir.
Here's the story, some of it is interesting, might be worth reading. Here's hoping I don't bore you.
We were coming back, ready to land, when the pilot called me up to the cockpit. Ferg said, "will have to make a crash landing, go back to the radio room and ask the crew who wants to bail out and who doesn't." I went back and put it up to the crew. I told them just how things stood, and that Ferg would rather have them bail out, mainly because a crash landing is either good, or it's one big puff!! They add decided to join the paratroopers, everything was put in readiness for the ordeal.
I went back up in the nose to get my chute, and prepared myself for the jump. I checked my chute to look for any flaws and to see that my harness was tight enough. I opened the latch and must have looked out at the empty space for several seconds before I put my hand on the rip chord - then my head went out, the final heave, and I was free of the plane. The prop wash caught me full blast.
I watched for about four seconds, then I pulled the handle. It opened with a jerk that was over with before I knew it. Terry, it felt good to see the silk, so white and strong, hanging above me. I guess the first thing I felt for was my nuts, they were still there, no harm done, darling, I'm glad of that.
I looked around to see where I was going to land, it looked pretty good, but I noticed that I was coming in back first. I wanted to see where I would land so I could try to avoid any trees, houses, or fences that I might run into. I tried to turn myself around, but was hung up on that score because I started to swing. I stopped the swinging alright, and tried again to turn myself around.
The swinging started again, and once more I had to stop it. In the meantime, I hadn't noticed how near the ground I was and was in the middle of turning around for the 3rd time when I landed, on my right side, with a helluva thud, right in the middle of a muddy field. I collapsed my chute to keep from being dragged along. The worst was over, for I was on the ground; how badly was I hurt, if at all? I soon found out when I got up, my right leg gave away. Not knowing whether it was broke or not, I decided to favor it anyway, and took out my compass. I couldn't see any houses, so I let out in one direction, hoping to come to a house or a road soon. I walked for about ten or fifteen minutes until I came to a road.
I was picked up and taken back to the base, smoking one cigarette after another, sweating out the landing that Ferg was making. I prayed that he'd be alright. If I would have known then that he had made one of the prettiest landings anyone could make, I wouldn't have sweated him out so much.
The results; the crew are all safe, and it seems I'm the only one hurt. My ankle is sprained and my knee and hip are a little sore. I'm satisfied with as little as that, it was good to be on the ground in one piece.
The whole jump took about 90 seconds, but it takes longer than that to read up to here. And as a matter of information, when one lands in a chute, he hits the ground at the same speed he would if he jumped from the top of a truck going 20 m.p.h. So you see I'm lucky to have only a sprained ankle. It's a lot better now, and I've argued with Doc Brady since this morning trying to convince him that my leg is well enough to get back into operations again. He finally decided to let me go, so I'm back in the fighting again, starting tomorrow.
We got our own ship at last, due to the crash - I'll let you know what we name it in the near future.
Darling, I'm getting a lot of mail from you now. I couldn't ask for anything more. By this time you should be getting mine.
This is all for today, except that I love you more and more every day. I probably won't have a chance to write tomorrow, but will the first chance I get. A mission kisses and one embrace.
All my love,
Jim
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Tuesday night, February 8, 1944 England
My beloved sweetheart,
At last I've heard from you. Baby, it was wonderful! Two letters dated Jan. 11 and 14th, respectively. I've read them over and over, getting every bit of news out of them. You don't blame me, do you? It's the only thing I've got to remind me of you, to realize that you are still there thinking about the same things I've been thinking about.
That will be the day, our Wedding! Darling, we've got so much to look forward to, and take it from me, I'm looking forward to it! All the joys and utter bliss that is found to exist with two people in love.
Terry, as things are, thinking as we do, loving as we do, waiting, hoping, praying for these wonderful days that we'll be together, will, beyond a doubt, be a little strenuous, putting it lightly. Two busy people, two sleepy people, too much in love to say good night. Nothing, original, but it hits the head on the nail - besides it suits us to a T.
I can guess what Helen and you were talking about. Mighty interesting, and plenty exciting, and something to look forward to.
Darling, those should be happy days - I can't even let myself picture these lest things don't come out the way they should.
Terry, sweetheart, that old feeling has come over me. Darling, I want you so much!
Then we'll have our difficulties which is only natural with two people starting life together. We'll work the out alright, that's something between you and I. We can't lose, not us, and we'll be the two happiest people in the world. I'm sure of that!
I started this letter on the 8th and since then, I've written other letters. It's the 17th today and I'll finish it as long as I've started; the same sentiments prevail so why not?
I don't know why, but I can't seem to write a decent letter anymore. When I start to write to you, I have so many things to tell you, things that I had been thinking of, about us especially, but when I try to put it into words, they don't come out the way I want them to.
I think I'll first ramble on and hope that you will try to understand what I'm trying to say. Incidentally, excuse the hand writing. It's so damp and cold, my hands are stiff and my fingers feel like thumbs. I'm writing this at the club and it's a morning letter of all things. I didn't fly this morning after getting up for it, so as long as I'm up - well, here I am.
I've sent several V-mail letters, you should get them a lot sooner than you get this. And therefore, you'll know that I'm getting your mail regularly now; it's a great thing to hear from you, Terry, it means the difference between knowing you're well and happy and.or wondering if you are all right.
I'm telling you, sweet, you mean so very much to me - I don't ever want to lose you!
I had to leave again to go out and swing the compass on our plane. Holy Christ it was cold. I thought I was going to lose my feet and hands, I couldn't feel them any more.
This is in the afternoon, but I'm bound to finish this letter regardless.
Everything is about the same here. It's no bed of roses, but there are plenty of times to relax, and it's not too bad, especially after we get on the ground. One can laugh at Lady Luck after it's over, it's the sweating that bothers me most, and honey, I really sweat every one of those rides out. I can't relax until we see home again. Then for a cigarette, and nothing could ever taste better. I'm really scared to pieces; in fact, I don't know how I keep on working, but I guess I've got some one helping me, some one I should be better friends with. He's doing something. I know, else how could I keep going back for more?
That's one thing that bothers me, the fear of being afraid, so afraid some time, that I might not be able to perform my duties - I don't want to be a coward!
So far, I've had help from Him, so far, I've been able to keep my head, I pray that I can keep on doing it.
The nurses at one of the hospitals near here gave a dance. Schmid and I went, and had a pretty good time. I had a date, but it seems to me that I danced with her only once. I loved them all, Terry, if you follow me, and had a pretty good time dancing with all of them. They're a bunch of good scouts, those nurses, they've got a pretty tough job, and they get so little for it. I guess they're satisfied though, or they wouldn't do it.
I went to a dance last night. God, it was awful. Those English musicians just don't play on the right beat. It's either too fast or too slow. Besides that I don't enjoy dancing well enough to beat my brains out. With you, it's a different story; with you, it's a little more than just dancing.
Went cycling over the countryside last Sunday. Didn't go very far, didn't see very much - just rode on and on with out any destination - it was fun, at least it was good exercise. I sort of wish you could be here with me, to ride together through England. They countryside is beautiful. Always green, still holding that ancient atmosphere, without the aid of fancy billboards. I know you would enjoy it, and the fact that you were happy would make me happy too, and then we'd both be slap happy, ok for the life of a clown.
I don't know how this letter will sound to you. I can't attempt to flatter myself on this one. The writing is terrible, the spelling is terrific, and the thought is all twisted to hell, it stinks! But please try to d the best you can with it, won't you dearest?
On I go, and a little more about us, and our future together.
There's something I want to get straight right off the bat. The way I look at it, it's a 50-50 deal. I'm not marrying you, nor are you marrying me; we're marrying each other. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I don't think there's any reason for it. I trust you enough to let you do what you want to do, any time you want to do it. I like you as you are, I don't want to change any part of you. This much is obvious. Naturally, I expect the same treatment from you.
This is what I mean, Terry, we'll do our planning together, as one; hell, if we can't do that much we won;'t be very close, will we?
I'll never doubt your wisdom, nor your word. Darling, that's why I love you so much, I guess - I'd trust you with anything, at any time, and I feel that you and I can really make a go of this future now that we'll take it. We'll be as one, together as long as we live with our home, and our family, and our love,
Darling, your letters make me feel so happy - when you mentioned Brownie, Jr. - my heart must have skipped a beat, maybe two. God, be with us and may He bless us with our one big hope - a child.
Terry, what an honest feeling of joy that will be, the day "our" baby is born. I can't begin to realize what happiness we'd have. Incidentally, I don't care whether it's a boy or girl, Let fate decide that much of it. I'll be happy either way.
And when you speak of our home, I assume you mean after this whole mess is over with. That seems so far away, so very far away - and that brings up a point.
When I get through with my tour of operations here in the E.S.O., there is a chance I'll be coming home for a long rest - what happens after that all depends. In other words, I'll be back in the States for quite awhile before I go back on combat duty again. Now mind you, all this depends on how the conditions are over here. Suppose I do come back home for awhile - assume that I'll be in the states for approximately six months to a year.
The question is - will we remain as we are, actually apart; or will we be married then? That's something for us to think about, darling. That's something we can decide when and if I come back as assumed, but again, it's something to think about.
It will mean living wherever I"m stationed, it will mean moving from Milwaukee. It will also mean no "home" (as we pictured it), at least, not until I'm discharged, not until the whole thing is over. But it will mean that we'll be together, living as we should be, as man and wife. We'll work it out. Have to close for now.
I love you with all my heart,
Jim
At last I've heard from you. Baby, it was wonderful! Two letters dated Jan. 11 and 14th, respectively. I've read them over and over, getting every bit of news out of them. You don't blame me, do you? It's the only thing I've got to remind me of you, to realize that you are still there thinking about the same things I've been thinking about.
That will be the day, our Wedding! Darling, we've got so much to look forward to, and take it from me, I'm looking forward to it! All the joys and utter bliss that is found to exist with two people in love.
Terry, as things are, thinking as we do, loving as we do, waiting, hoping, praying for these wonderful days that we'll be together, will, beyond a doubt, be a little strenuous, putting it lightly. Two busy people, two sleepy people, too much in love to say good night. Nothing, original, but it hits the head on the nail - besides it suits us to a T.
I can guess what Helen and you were talking about. Mighty interesting, and plenty exciting, and something to look forward to.
Darling, those should be happy days - I can't even let myself picture these lest things don't come out the way they should.
Terry, sweetheart, that old feeling has come over me. Darling, I want you so much!
Then we'll have our difficulties which is only natural with two people starting life together. We'll work the out alright, that's something between you and I. We can't lose, not us, and we'll be the two happiest people in the world. I'm sure of that!
I started this letter on the 8th and since then, I've written other letters. It's the 17th today and I'll finish it as long as I've started; the same sentiments prevail so why not?
I don't know why, but I can't seem to write a decent letter anymore. When I start to write to you, I have so many things to tell you, things that I had been thinking of, about us especially, but when I try to put it into words, they don't come out the way I want them to.
I think I'll first ramble on and hope that you will try to understand what I'm trying to say. Incidentally, excuse the hand writing. It's so damp and cold, my hands are stiff and my fingers feel like thumbs. I'm writing this at the club and it's a morning letter of all things. I didn't fly this morning after getting up for it, so as long as I'm up - well, here I am.
I've sent several V-mail letters, you should get them a lot sooner than you get this. And therefore, you'll know that I'm getting your mail regularly now; it's a great thing to hear from you, Terry, it means the difference between knowing you're well and happy and.or wondering if you are all right.
I'm telling you, sweet, you mean so very much to me - I don't ever want to lose you!
I had to leave again to go out and swing the compass on our plane. Holy Christ it was cold. I thought I was going to lose my feet and hands, I couldn't feel them any more.
This is in the afternoon, but I'm bound to finish this letter regardless.
Everything is about the same here. It's no bed of roses, but there are plenty of times to relax, and it's not too bad, especially after we get on the ground. One can laugh at Lady Luck after it's over, it's the sweating that bothers me most, and honey, I really sweat every one of those rides out. I can't relax until we see home again. Then for a cigarette, and nothing could ever taste better. I'm really scared to pieces; in fact, I don't know how I keep on working, but I guess I've got some one helping me, some one I should be better friends with. He's doing something. I know, else how could I keep going back for more?
That's one thing that bothers me, the fear of being afraid, so afraid some time, that I might not be able to perform my duties - I don't want to be a coward!
So far, I've had help from Him, so far, I've been able to keep my head, I pray that I can keep on doing it.
The nurses at one of the hospitals near here gave a dance. Schmid and I went, and had a pretty good time. I had a date, but it seems to me that I danced with her only once. I loved them all, Terry, if you follow me, and had a pretty good time dancing with all of them. They're a bunch of good scouts, those nurses, they've got a pretty tough job, and they get so little for it. I guess they're satisfied though, or they wouldn't do it.
I went to a dance last night. God, it was awful. Those English musicians just don't play on the right beat. It's either too fast or too slow. Besides that I don't enjoy dancing well enough to beat my brains out. With you, it's a different story; with you, it's a little more than just dancing.
Went cycling over the countryside last Sunday. Didn't go very far, didn't see very much - just rode on and on with out any destination - it was fun, at least it was good exercise. I sort of wish you could be here with me, to ride together through England. They countryside is beautiful. Always green, still holding that ancient atmosphere, without the aid of fancy billboards. I know you would enjoy it, and the fact that you were happy would make me happy too, and then we'd both be slap happy, ok for the life of a clown.
I don't know how this letter will sound to you. I can't attempt to flatter myself on this one. The writing is terrible, the spelling is terrific, and the thought is all twisted to hell, it stinks! But please try to d the best you can with it, won't you dearest?
On I go, and a little more about us, and our future together.
There's something I want to get straight right off the bat. The way I look at it, it's a 50-50 deal. I'm not marrying you, nor are you marrying me; we're marrying each other. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I don't think there's any reason for it. I trust you enough to let you do what you want to do, any time you want to do it. I like you as you are, I don't want to change any part of you. This much is obvious. Naturally, I expect the same treatment from you.
This is what I mean, Terry, we'll do our planning together, as one; hell, if we can't do that much we won;'t be very close, will we?
I'll never doubt your wisdom, nor your word. Darling, that's why I love you so much, I guess - I'd trust you with anything, at any time, and I feel that you and I can really make a go of this future now that we'll take it. We'll be as one, together as long as we live with our home, and our family, and our love,
Darling, your letters make me feel so happy - when you mentioned Brownie, Jr. - my heart must have skipped a beat, maybe two. God, be with us and may He bless us with our one big hope - a child.
Terry, what an honest feeling of joy that will be, the day "our" baby is born. I can't begin to realize what happiness we'd have. Incidentally, I don't care whether it's a boy or girl, Let fate decide that much of it. I'll be happy either way.
And when you speak of our home, I assume you mean after this whole mess is over with. That seems so far away, so very far away - and that brings up a point.
When I get through with my tour of operations here in the E.S.O., there is a chance I'll be coming home for a long rest - what happens after that all depends. In other words, I'll be back in the States for quite awhile before I go back on combat duty again. Now mind you, all this depends on how the conditions are over here. Suppose I do come back home for awhile - assume that I'll be in the states for approximately six months to a year.
The question is - will we remain as we are, actually apart; or will we be married then? That's something for us to think about, darling. That's something we can decide when and if I come back as assumed, but again, it's something to think about.
It will mean living wherever I"m stationed, it will mean moving from Milwaukee. It will also mean no "home" (as we pictured it), at least, not until I'm discharged, not until the whole thing is over. But it will mean that we'll be together, living as we should be, as man and wife. We'll work it out. Have to close for now.
I love you with all my heart,
Jim
Tuesday night, February 1, 1944
My darling sweetheart,
Just a note to say hello and to tell you how much I love you. Seems I never get tired of that. I never want to, for that matter, and it does help a little - I mean to write it - because while I write, you're as near as you ever will be as long as we're apart.
Bad news first, maybe not as bad as it could be, but damn irritating, believe me. As I ramble on, in my scribbling sort of way, I regret to say that I haven't received any mail since I last saw you. Darling, you should feel very sorry for me - I feel so blue. If you see spots on this page, you'll known that I've been weeping. On second thought, you won't have to feel quite so miserable, perhaps, no doubt, obviously and stuff like that there, I'll have received a chokeable amount, by the time you read this, that is if you can. And if you can, please don't mess this little outbreak, "I do love you, darling."
Another page to continue on with my woeful tale. Isn't it sad? I don't think anyone could be in any worse a fix than I am. I'm really taking a lot of misery and really can't see how I can continue. I don't think anyone else has the right to feel as sorry for themselves as I have. You believe that, Terry, don't you? Tell me that your heart is bleeding for me, that you feel for me, but you can't reach me. By this time, you must think I'm a terrible story teller, in fact, you might not even believe a word I've been saying about my disheartening situation. You think I'm just saying it so that I'll feel better, don't you? And so, as time goes on, what will the morrow bring? Will it be as nice as it was today, or will it be nicer in a pub than on Tuesday. Consider the source of this fanatic babble, darling, don't break my arm, I'll be a navigator.
Which reminds me, I met a chap today who, in his innocent way of living, went to West the same years that I went, Steely is the name, you might know him. He's a first looey and has quite a lot behind him. He got in a short time after Pearl Harbor and instructed awhile at a Navigator school in the States. Just think, honey, one of these years I'll be wearing a silver bar just like the one he's wearing. Maybe if I try very hard, I'll make it. Now to go on with my writing.
Things have been going rather smoothly of late. Not too much to complain about, at least not any more than usual.
The food is damn good, some of the best I've had since I've been in the Army. That goes a long way. Surprising what a tasteful meal under the belt will do toward looking up at the world.
The attitude throughout the base is one of independence. However, be that as it may, the atmosphere created is cheerful and obliging if help is deserved and courtesy is extended. In other words, life here is what one makes it, and I'm making it as comfortable and easy to take as I possibly can. I guess a person can get only what they put out. It evens out somewhere along the line.
I suppose that by this reading, you will also have read in the papers about all the hell we're giving out. With all the sweating and cursing and things that go with combat, there isn't a more magnificent sight, to compensate for it, than the one we see when the sky is full of planes, planes on their way to what is fast becoming a devastating scene. Don't know why, but I feel as though I belong, that my place in things is as it should be. I don't know, Terry, if I had to stay behind, on the ground, if wouldn't be pleasant. Perhaps it might be that each mission brings me closer to you, nearer the time when we'll be joined, as we should be. Each time I go, each time I come back, is one less toward my tour of duty, and one more gained toward our happy reunion. That won't be so very long, time goes quickly once the job has been started, and it has been started!
I never thought that I'd be looking forward to such a glorious meeting. Darling, I've told you this before, but when we were together in Peoria, when we sat in the restaurant and talked, the mere fact that you were near me, gave me a glow inside. I can't describe it, darling, but it was a tingly feeling, a contented twinge. Much like a cat must feel when it purrs and lounges around. I probably didn't show it as much as I wanted to. Maybe it was the thought of departing, I'll never know.
Time has passed since then, time that could hold regret, because of our separation, but as time passes, our love grows. Not growing too much, but hopefully, patiently waiting for the eventful day.
And so, sweetheart, another day has ended, another night has come, and with it a loving recompose of our love in my dreams. Good night, my dear, and until another day, I close with all my love.
Your adoring sweetheart,
Jim
I'm enclosing a section of "Stars and Stripes," the official newspaper for men and women in the service who are overseas. It'll give you an idea of what my life is like while I'm on the job.
Wednesday morning January 26, 1944
Dearest sweetheart,
Hello Terry, my darling, another message of love and longing for you. The more time that passes while I'm away from you, the more I miss you. That sounds phony, maybe, but only because you mean so much to me. As hard as it may sounds, I find myself hoping upon hope that you miss me as much, even though it would bean a burning feeling that does not at all come under the heading of comfortable. I'm hoping your heart is bleeding, your mind is tormented at night, and your whole being tortured much in the way mine is at the thought of you and I separated. Darling, if that's the case, how much better will be the joining of our hearts and our wonderful reunion at the time of my return!
Terry, I'm trying not to make this letter sound like a romantic miss. I'm trying to tell you that you mean everything to me. That if I were to lose you in any way, it would be like cutting something out of my heart. As if parting from a loved one, never to return.
Terry, I don't mind telling you that everything I do, everything I'll be doing in the forthcoming months will be for you, for you I say, because the harder I work, the more I burn with the passion, the love for you, the better chance I'll have to come back to you. That's all that worries me, to find you as sweet and loveable as you were when we parted. To find that you still love me as I do you! It worries me only a little because I'm as sure of your love as I am of mine for you, but I wouldn't be human if I didn't think you might forget me, darling, could you say I might be jealous?
You might call it that - but not in the serious stage. I sat that because I trust you under any circumstances. Somehow, I feel that anything you told me would be true, as far as I'm concerned, your word is as good as gold. Feeling this way, I can't help but believe that our love is everlasting now, and there is nothing to make it otherwise in the future.
Oh Terry, my sweet, I can't begin to tell you how much I love you - you'll never know - and those little dreams I have, dreams dealing in our future, our home, our family - I can't do it during the day, I have to get my mind off it. At night, I fall asleep thinking of my sweetheart, to wake up down hearted to find that she's not really here. Terry, I'm praying for the day when we'll be together. Terry, want me happy, really happy again? Good bye and cheerio, darling -
All my love forever,
Jim
Hello Terry, my darling, another message of love and longing for you. The more time that passes while I'm away from you, the more I miss you. That sounds phony, maybe, but only because you mean so much to me. As hard as it may sounds, I find myself hoping upon hope that you miss me as much, even though it would bean a burning feeling that does not at all come under the heading of comfortable. I'm hoping your heart is bleeding, your mind is tormented at night, and your whole being tortured much in the way mine is at the thought of you and I separated. Darling, if that's the case, how much better will be the joining of our hearts and our wonderful reunion at the time of my return!
Terry, I'm trying not to make this letter sound like a romantic miss. I'm trying to tell you that you mean everything to me. That if I were to lose you in any way, it would be like cutting something out of my heart. As if parting from a loved one, never to return.
Terry, I don't mind telling you that everything I do, everything I'll be doing in the forthcoming months will be for you, for you I say, because the harder I work, the more I burn with the passion, the love for you, the better chance I'll have to come back to you. That's all that worries me, to find you as sweet and loveable as you were when we parted. To find that you still love me as I do you! It worries me only a little because I'm as sure of your love as I am of mine for you, but I wouldn't be human if I didn't think you might forget me, darling, could you say I might be jealous?
You might call it that - but not in the serious stage. I sat that because I trust you under any circumstances. Somehow, I feel that anything you told me would be true, as far as I'm concerned, your word is as good as gold. Feeling this way, I can't help but believe that our love is everlasting now, and there is nothing to make it otherwise in the future.
Oh Terry, my sweet, I can't begin to tell you how much I love you - you'll never know - and those little dreams I have, dreams dealing in our future, our home, our family - I can't do it during the day, I have to get my mind off it. At night, I fall asleep thinking of my sweetheart, to wake up down hearted to find that she's not really here. Terry, I'm praying for the day when we'll be together. Terry, want me happy, really happy again? Good bye and cheerio, darling -
All my love forever,
Jim
Monday, January 25, 2016
Sunday evening, January 16, 1944 "ye olde England"
My own beloved sweetheart,
Another chance to write to my darling, that is, if you'll excuse my miserable attempt at penning. An army cot is not a very comfortable rest for letter writing, but it's a lousy night and I don't feel like walking up to the club through this cold, clammy weather where it would be a little more comfortable.
I haven't heard from you as of yet, darling, but I do expect some sort of mail from you shortly, anxiously waiting to hear from my Terry.
Not to be dealing in melancholy or things pertaining to it - I won't say that I'm feeling low or depressed at our being apart, but that I long for you and am thinking about us constantly, especially now during the lull. It's not that I'm not busy, but what I'm doing now takes all of my being, except that which pertains to you, Terry, at those times where there is nothing to do but fish to swear. In other words, darling, you mean one helluva lot to me, and I have everything to urge me on, everything! And I'm looking forward to the stark of my experiences because the sooner the game will be over, the sooner I'll be back with you again.
Anything can happen darling, and if there is no word from me for a long time, or if there is a report that may sounds a wee bit on the pessimistic side, don't take it too much for granted, darling, take it as it may sound, always the benefit of the doubt to us. And remember that I'll always love you, deeply and without reserve. I admire you for so many things that I don't think there is anything you could say, or think, or do, that could shake my love for you. Only one thing excepted, your love for me - If I lost it - if you stopped loving me -
My time, that is my free time, is evidently spent in monotony, judging from my mode. I'm sorry if I gave this impression sweetheart, it's not wholly true you know. Although there isn't a great deal to be done during my free time, I manage to get some sort of pre-occupation to take up the slack. Of all things, to keep from thinking about you and everything you stand for. I'll have to, I want to admit that the thought of that sweet, darling, girl wanting for me back home just isn't safe. It isn't safe if I want to remain as sane as I've always been. In order to keep from getting any crazier than I am, I have to keep busy. If you feel the way I do, you'll understand what I mean. But there are times, so many times, that I can't keep busy enough, for I do have to sleep, and with those few minutes before, when one first lies in his bed thinking, just thinking, that's where you come in!
I must fall asleep with a smile, couldn't be otherwise, because it always comes out the same, you and I, together and happy beyond control. Here's a prayer that the day will be soon where all our dreams will be under the same room. Good night, darling, need I say more?
Love,
Jim
Another chance to write to my darling, that is, if you'll excuse my miserable attempt at penning. An army cot is not a very comfortable rest for letter writing, but it's a lousy night and I don't feel like walking up to the club through this cold, clammy weather where it would be a little more comfortable.
I haven't heard from you as of yet, darling, but I do expect some sort of mail from you shortly, anxiously waiting to hear from my Terry.
Not to be dealing in melancholy or things pertaining to it - I won't say that I'm feeling low or depressed at our being apart, but that I long for you and am thinking about us constantly, especially now during the lull. It's not that I'm not busy, but what I'm doing now takes all of my being, except that which pertains to you, Terry, at those times where there is nothing to do but fish to swear. In other words, darling, you mean one helluva lot to me, and I have everything to urge me on, everything! And I'm looking forward to the stark of my experiences because the sooner the game will be over, the sooner I'll be back with you again.
Anything can happen darling, and if there is no word from me for a long time, or if there is a report that may sounds a wee bit on the pessimistic side, don't take it too much for granted, darling, take it as it may sound, always the benefit of the doubt to us. And remember that I'll always love you, deeply and without reserve. I admire you for so many things that I don't think there is anything you could say, or think, or do, that could shake my love for you. Only one thing excepted, your love for me - If I lost it - if you stopped loving me -
My time, that is my free time, is evidently spent in monotony, judging from my mode. I'm sorry if I gave this impression sweetheart, it's not wholly true you know. Although there isn't a great deal to be done during my free time, I manage to get some sort of pre-occupation to take up the slack. Of all things, to keep from thinking about you and everything you stand for. I'll have to, I want to admit that the thought of that sweet, darling, girl wanting for me back home just isn't safe. It isn't safe if I want to remain as sane as I've always been. In order to keep from getting any crazier than I am, I have to keep busy. If you feel the way I do, you'll understand what I mean. But there are times, so many times, that I can't keep busy enough, for I do have to sleep, and with those few minutes before, when one first lies in his bed thinking, just thinking, that's where you come in!
I must fall asleep with a smile, couldn't be otherwise, because it always comes out the same, you and I, together and happy beyond control. Here's a prayer that the day will be soon where all our dreams will be under the same room. Good night, darling, need I say more?
Love,
Jim
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Sunday afternoon - January 9, 1944
Dearest darling,
This will probably take a long time to reach you, but after this letter arrives, more will follow in closer sequence because I'm going to try to write every day - even if just to say hello to my sweetheart.
You have probably received my letter written about ten days ago. There wasn't much to say in it, that is, not much about my surroundings: however, this letter might be a little more interesting.
I'm censoring my own mail, so I'll have to be careful about what I say.
There's one thing I don't have to be careful about when I write, and that is my longing for you. I miss you so, darling, and the hardest thing about being here is our being apart. It's always the same, my thoughts of you, my dreams about us. They are wonderful, sweet, they seem so real that when I do get back, I'll have to convince myself it's not another dream.
Incidently, baby I haven't told you yet, where I am. It's a small place, this England and I like the people an awful lot. It's difficult to understand them at first, but one gets used to it. I rather enjoy listening to them talk They seem to talk faster and have a different system of tone control. I think it's much more musical the way they talk compared to our method of speech. I also find, from conversations with Englishmen in cafes and pubs (taverns to us), that they're not at all the stiff shirts we pictured them to be. They're regular people alright, and very generous with what little they have.
Their humor is first the way I had imagined it to be. Bob Hope slays us, but it damn near slaughters them. What I mean is, they're very easily made to laugh at what we call cracks, and tears come to their eyes and cramps to their stomach when they hear real worthy cracks. But, as I said, they're very likeable people, and easy to get along with. At least, I've found it so. And I respect them a lot for all they've gone through these five years of war.
Their money system is all screwed up. It took me quite awhile to get used to it, but I finally caught on, not too fast as of yet, but I seem to manage alright. The smallest coin is a half pence, about the same as our penny (1/2 pence = 5/6 cents), The next highest value is the pence, ad it's the largest in size, made of copper. There are 12 pence to a shilling, and this is worth about 20 cents in our money. There is a three pence coin and a six pence coin in between the shilling and the pence. The next highest coin is the two shilling piece, next the half crown or 2 1/2 shilling, next is the 10 shilling note, and next the 20 shilling note which is called the pound. The highest note is the 5 pound note worth $20.17 1/2 in our money. Anything higher than this is written like a check as high as one cares to if he has the money to back it.
Well, I hope I haven't bored you too much, honey, with all this finance. I thought you would be interested in my money problems so I first sounded off. At any rate, hon, enough of that. The weather here is cold and damp, with a drizzling rain most all the time, In fact, I've seen the sun but once since I've been here. There's no snow, and the countryside is as green as our mid-West is in the late spring. It's not as cold as our winters, but the dampness makes it extremely penetrating and quite uncomfortable to say the least. I call it good pneumonia weather, and I feel for those who suffer with rheumatism.
Another thing that is hard to get used to is the black out. When I go to town, it seems very weird not to see any lights on the streets from the windows. On nights of moonlight, it's not too bad, but on dark, wet nights, well, you've heard stories of English fog at night. I swear, you can't see a foot in front of you. I've gotten used to it, and it's not too bad after awhile. That's one of the things I have to admire these people for. They've been putting up with it for a long time. I'd sure like to visit here in peace time, it must be darn nice.
Going back to the English speech. Here are a few sayings they have that may sound odd to you. They did it to me, and you can judge for yourself. A flashlight is a "torch," a tavern is a "pub," a bicycle is a "cycle," a "rotten" is a no good person, to call a girl "cute" here is to accuse her of street walking. And you don't "wake some one up" in the morning, you "knock them up." So you see, darling, there's someone getting knocked up all the time here. This last one is the pay off. When someone says "keep your pecker up," they mean what we would meat if we said, "keep your chin up." The girls in the beginning would tell the boys to keep their peckers up, but since they've found out there's another meaning in the States, they've changed the words around a bit.
One of the fellas asked if they had a napkin in a café one day. Everyone in the place seemed to get a kick out of it. Our napkin is called a "survette" here and their "napkin" is a Kotex. You can imagine why they found something funny in that. These are some of the things in England that a Yank has to get used to. But so far, I have a feeling I'm going to like my stay here.
Darling, when you write, use air mail. It doesn't take much longer than V-mail, and you can write much easier. It's also a lot easier to read than V-mail. I'm anxiously waiting to hear from you, sweetheart. It has been a long time, in fact, the last word, by mouth or mail, was spoken in Peoria on the 21st of December. Do you remember?
I supposed you have started to write by now. That is if you have received my last letter. I sure hope so, dear, because I never wanted anything more than to have a word from you.
So much for today, Terry, until tomorrow then, so long, or as they here "cheerio."
All my love, your adoring future husband and sweetheart,
Jim
I do love you so very much!
Lt James Brown 0-811540
358th Bomb Squad
303rd Bomb Group
This will probably take a long time to reach you, but after this letter arrives, more will follow in closer sequence because I'm going to try to write every day - even if just to say hello to my sweetheart.
You have probably received my letter written about ten days ago. There wasn't much to say in it, that is, not much about my surroundings: however, this letter might be a little more interesting.
I'm censoring my own mail, so I'll have to be careful about what I say.
There's one thing I don't have to be careful about when I write, and that is my longing for you. I miss you so, darling, and the hardest thing about being here is our being apart. It's always the same, my thoughts of you, my dreams about us. They are wonderful, sweet, they seem so real that when I do get back, I'll have to convince myself it's not another dream.
Incidently, baby I haven't told you yet, where I am. It's a small place, this England and I like the people an awful lot. It's difficult to understand them at first, but one gets used to it. I rather enjoy listening to them talk They seem to talk faster and have a different system of tone control. I think it's much more musical the way they talk compared to our method of speech. I also find, from conversations with Englishmen in cafes and pubs (taverns to us), that they're not at all the stiff shirts we pictured them to be. They're regular people alright, and very generous with what little they have.
Their humor is first the way I had imagined it to be. Bob Hope slays us, but it damn near slaughters them. What I mean is, they're very easily made to laugh at what we call cracks, and tears come to their eyes and cramps to their stomach when they hear real worthy cracks. But, as I said, they're very likeable people, and easy to get along with. At least, I've found it so. And I respect them a lot for all they've gone through these five years of war.
Their money system is all screwed up. It took me quite awhile to get used to it, but I finally caught on, not too fast as of yet, but I seem to manage alright. The smallest coin is a half pence, about the same as our penny (1/2 pence = 5/6 cents), The next highest value is the pence, ad it's the largest in size, made of copper. There are 12 pence to a shilling, and this is worth about 20 cents in our money. There is a three pence coin and a six pence coin in between the shilling and the pence. The next highest coin is the two shilling piece, next the half crown or 2 1/2 shilling, next is the 10 shilling note, and next the 20 shilling note which is called the pound. The highest note is the 5 pound note worth $20.17 1/2 in our money. Anything higher than this is written like a check as high as one cares to if he has the money to back it.
Well, I hope I haven't bored you too much, honey, with all this finance. I thought you would be interested in my money problems so I first sounded off. At any rate, hon, enough of that. The weather here is cold and damp, with a drizzling rain most all the time, In fact, I've seen the sun but once since I've been here. There's no snow, and the countryside is as green as our mid-West is in the late spring. It's not as cold as our winters, but the dampness makes it extremely penetrating and quite uncomfortable to say the least. I call it good pneumonia weather, and I feel for those who suffer with rheumatism.
Another thing that is hard to get used to is the black out. When I go to town, it seems very weird not to see any lights on the streets from the windows. On nights of moonlight, it's not too bad, but on dark, wet nights, well, you've heard stories of English fog at night. I swear, you can't see a foot in front of you. I've gotten used to it, and it's not too bad after awhile. That's one of the things I have to admire these people for. They've been putting up with it for a long time. I'd sure like to visit here in peace time, it must be darn nice.
Going back to the English speech. Here are a few sayings they have that may sound odd to you. They did it to me, and you can judge for yourself. A flashlight is a "torch," a tavern is a "pub," a bicycle is a "cycle," a "rotten" is a no good person, to call a girl "cute" here is to accuse her of street walking. And you don't "wake some one up" in the morning, you "knock them up." So you see, darling, there's someone getting knocked up all the time here. This last one is the pay off. When someone says "keep your pecker up," they mean what we would meat if we said, "keep your chin up." The girls in the beginning would tell the boys to keep their peckers up, but since they've found out there's another meaning in the States, they've changed the words around a bit.
One of the fellas asked if they had a napkin in a café one day. Everyone in the place seemed to get a kick out of it. Our napkin is called a "survette" here and their "napkin" is a Kotex. You can imagine why they found something funny in that. These are some of the things in England that a Yank has to get used to. But so far, I have a feeling I'm going to like my stay here.
Darling, when you write, use air mail. It doesn't take much longer than V-mail, and you can write much easier. It's also a lot easier to read than V-mail. I'm anxiously waiting to hear from you, sweetheart. It has been a long time, in fact, the last word, by mouth or mail, was spoken in Peoria on the 21st of December. Do you remember?
I supposed you have started to write by now. That is if you have received my last letter. I sure hope so, dear, because I never wanted anything more than to have a word from you.
So much for today, Terry, until tomorrow then, so long, or as they here "cheerio."
All my love, your adoring future husband and sweetheart,
Jim
I do love you so very much!
Lt James Brown 0-811540
358th Bomb Squad
303rd Bomb Group
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