Friday, February 20, 1942

Fort McArts, Belfast Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

My Sweet Vivienne

I was so thrilled at Mail Call this morning. They called my name and I have a whole stack of letters from you! I am even wearing the scarf you sent me around my neck. I am taking a lot of ribbing for that but I don’t care.

I have only had a short time to read the letters, and really want to read them all again and again. But I have guard duty tonight, and have to prepare for that now. This is my first time “On Guard” and I am a bit nervous, not of the Nazi’s, but of falling asleep on duty. It’s all a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure whom I am guarding against, but it is good practice for when things really get going over here.

There is really not a lot to report from over here, we are not suppose to write anything in letters that could help the Germans. I think I have half a day off on Sunday and I am planning on going into town with some buddies to look around. Maybe by then I’ll have more exciting new to tell.

I have been thinking about you a lot. I miss you greatly; it’s hard on me going for days on end without hearing from you. I know you get busy taking care of everyone else, but I wonder who is taking care of you. I can’t be there to look after you, and I don’t think that you would willingly except my help anyway, knowing how stubborn and independent you can be at times. But Vivienne, listen to me, it would do you a world of good to rely of those willing to give you help. I feel sure you are having a rough time of it; so much must have changed since I left. Lean on Pam, she will help you and you can help her, take a chance and trust her, trust her for your own good. You may find that trusting someone, even if you are fearful, has rewards that you never imagined existed. You do not have to be alone in this.

My Sweet Vivienne, I worry about you so.

Love
Jack

Monday
February 15th, 1942


Dearest Jack,

I woke this morning with the strangest feeling that something was wrong. Everyone here is fine, or as fine as they always seem. But I felt a heaviness.. a sadness. I fear it was you I felt and that something was gravely wrong.

Speak to me across the waters. Tell me you are all right and the sun is shining and all is well. I am so worried tears have dripped onto this letter. My fear is growing. I'm going to go visit Pam, right now. She has gotten a few letters from Paul since he left. Maybe she can help me, or at least understand this feeling. What it is, I just don't know.

Are you safe? Where are you? Find me here..

Love,

Vivienne

Valentine's Day
Feb 14, 1942

My dear Jack,

Momma had a surprise for me this morning. And you know what it is or rather was! When I came to the breakfast table this morning, there, at my place was an envelope with only my name scrawled across it in your handwriting. You must have been in a hurry because the ink is smudged. Was I approaching when you did it? Oh Jack, when I opened it my eyes filled with tears and I had to leave the room. It was the most beautiful Valentine I could ever have wanted. You asked me to wait for you.. I will Jack. I promise, I will. You fill my thoughts when I should be concentrating on other things. Know that you are in my heart and mind.. a part of me. I will wait to hold you and touch you and kiss you and... and.. and even that. Now I"m blushing and if you were here you'd be laughing at me and telling me not to worry.. that it will be good.

Gentle man.. are you fearful? I imagine you bouncing on a ship somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Papa says you're probably going to England. He watches the newsreels and listens to the radio every night. He looks more and more worried. And pale.

Can worry make a man pale? It's winter so it's probably just because he doesn't get out much. He and Momma are always whispering. You don't suppose she's going to have a baby again, do you. After little Johhny died when he was not yet 3 months old, I remember her saying that she would have no more. But the way she's acting seems so similar.. I asked her and she said she couldn't talk.. was too busy. I think she's too old. How old can a woman be to have a baby? I don't know so many things.

When you come home, you'll have seen the world and all sorts of people. Teach me Jack. Teach me everything you've learned. Teach me about men and women.. and babies. I think I'd like to have one.

The nursing school at the county hospital has sent me an application. I think I'm going to fill it in just to see if they'll accept me.

It's Sunday and the chicken is ready. Momma has just called me to set the table for dinner. Come back to me Jack. Come sit beside me at Sunday dinner.

Love from your Vivienne.

Thursday, February 19, 1942

Fort McArts, Belfast Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

Vivienne

I arrived in Belfast in the early morning hours on Tuesday; we were all tired and weary from our long journey and in a most foul mood. But we are glad to be off of the ship and on dry land. I have seen very little of Belfast as of yet. I hope that we will receive some leave time and I can sightsee a little. But for now we are very busy, we are relieving a regiment of Brits. We will guard Ireland while they head off to North Africa to do some real fighting.

Most of our time has been spent moving into our barracks, and unloading our equipment. The only weapon I get to use here in Ireland is a broom. Our barracks is an old brick warehouse that looks a hundred years old, it’s cold and drafty. But it is heated by these huge coal fired iron stoves that sit in the middle of the huge room. It’s blazing hot near them and cold nearer the walls. Only a few of the bunks are in the middle where the temperature is comfortable, so most of us are either burning up or, like myself, cold.

I was very disappointed that no letters from you have reached me here. But it was just wishful thinking on my part that they would get here so soon. I’m sure you have written like you promised, but I shall just have to try to patient. But you know that is not one my strong suits.

Love

Jack

Sunday Night, February 15, 1942

At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

I wish we were together so that we could talk. I need someone to share this horrible day with. I do hate to burden you with my troubles but the death of Charlie Applewhite has upset me deeply. You have always been the only person that I could turn to when I was troubled, and now you are not here. But writing helps me think and maybe I can find some solace in this exercise.

I feel very guilty for being upset over this, I knew this kind of tragedy would happen, and it is likely to only become more frequent. What have I lost I ask myself? Even though I liked Charlie a good deal, I had only known him for a week, and when we landed, for all I know we could have been split up and I would never have seen him again. But his family was expecting to see him again and now they never will. They have lost a son and a brother, and what have I lost? Yet I feel sad and overwhelmed. I am truly ashamed of myself. I have pity for my small loss, when I should think of the greater loss of his family.

They don’t waste time these Navy guys, this afternoon they had a quick funeral for Charlie, and sent his body to the bottom of the ocean. It was nicely done and almost everyone not on duty turned out. Our Corporal asked me to gather Charlie’s personal effects, as we share a locker. There was little of note there to send back to his family except for a photo of Charlie, face beaming with pleasure, standing with his family, in full uniform. Charlie is the only one that looks happy, I guess he is standing with his parents and two brother and two sisters. The date on the back is December 1941, this must have been taken when Charlie was just out of Basic Training.

It affected me badly holding that photograph and thinking of Charlie’s family never seeing him again. I would like to write them a letter and tell them of how Charlie was so well liked, but I think it would be an intrusion upon their grief. And I think I only want to write them to make myself feel better, and I am disappointed in myself for being so selfish.

I wish you where here to help me with this, you always know the right course is such matters. But again I am thinking only of myself and I know that is wrong.

How are doing? Tell me what you do to stay busy; I’m sure your momma makes sure you stay that way. How is your father? Tell him I asked about him. Have you heard word of my family? I have not received a letter from them since before I left New York.

I hope that we will arrive at our destination soon, I am growing weary of insides of this great steel monster. I hope to receive mail soon, and I will send all that I have written as soon as I can. I miss your dearly.

Love
Jack

Sunday February 15, 1942

At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

It is Sunday morning here, wherever hear is, and I am glad to report that I am feeling much better. I have my Sea Legs, and my appetite is strong. I have just returned from church, I have a picture of you in my Bible that I am using as a bookmark, it will be safe there and the two things that I love the most can be together. Our church or mess hall as it is called most of the week was packed with men. I suspect that some of these men have not been to church in years and that only the fear of death brings them here now. I wish the love of God was the motivator, but I guess coming to God is what is important and not how you get there.

I am afraid that I can not tell you much about the sermon, my mind was drifting back to all of the times we sat in church together listening to Reverend Hamilton preach, I’m afraid that some times I didn’t listen to him either, my mind being on you. I should have more self-control I know, but you occupy my thoughts so. Even now I think about you often. We have not seen the German Navy, not even one single U-Boat, but we drill constantly for an attack. I suspect that the Navy guys just like to keep us busy, as I don’t see how anything that we do will mitigate any damage the Germans may inflict upon us. But all most of these men can talk about is the impending doom of war, to me it is but a vague threat in the future, where as your memory is strong and I can feel you presents with me when I read you letter and touch your scarf. So for now the future is only filled with thoughts of you and the time we had together. I am sure that at some point soon the War will intrude and make it otherwise.

I have met a nice man here on ship, he is Charlie Applewhite from Kentucky, he is a young farmer, and is happy as a child at Christmas to be here. He tells me that living on a farm is to dull for a smart guy like him. I’m sure his family misses him greatly, but he seems to be having the time of his life. He is a hoot to be around and he brings a smile to all of our faces whenever we are blue.

I must end here, time for another drill soon I suspect. I will write again soon.

Love
Jack

P.S.

I had to take this letter out of the sealed envelope to write this post script, I need to write this down while I could. During the drill it was Charlie’s turn to live fire, as the call it, one of the anti-aircraft guns. You may have seen pictures these large machine guns mounted to the decks of ships. Charlie was having the time of his life firing at the factious German Air force, when the bolt jammed and a round exploded in the chamber of the gun, sending the whole of the bolt into Charlie’s face, I will not describe to you the horror that I saw, but Charlie was fortunate that he did not live long. What will they tell his family?

Tuesday, February 1oth, 1942


Dear Jack,

Today I kissed the postman! On the cheek of course, for he brought me my first letter from you. It was the one where you said you were running out of paper. I hope you've found some. Is it possible for me to mail you a package? If you get an address, I will mail whatever you need.

Anyway, I was so happy to hear from you. I danced around the kitchen and Mama kept rolling her eyes and smiling. I think she remembers what it was like to be young and happy with a beau. You are my beau.. you know? Are you more? My heart says yes.. oh Jack, I am so happy you are well. Hearing from you has brought all those days we shared come back to life. I smile when I think of you.

It's hard to keep busy now that you've gone. I've been watching the Kennedy children while she works. The factory has started a second shift to build parts for the war. Papa doesn't want me working there. He says that it's not women's work. He wants me to go to college and work on a nursing or teaching career. What do you think Jack? What you think is more important to me than anyone else.

You are in New York City? Oh my!! That is so exciting! Have you seen any famous people or been to the movie theaters? Some day it would be fun to go there, with you. And no one else. No chaperone. Just us. People might talk! Do you care? I don't think I would. But I don't know. The rules have been so strict for me. A good girl I am. Sort of.. I think of you when I go to sleep at night and when I wake in the morning.

You're always with me. Sasha misses you. She purrs and looks sad. You were so sweet to her.. bringing her catnip and the can of sardines. She tries to lay on your shirt everytime I take it off. Shoo kitty, that belongs to me!

It seems I'm always hurrying off to mail a letter. The mail leaves soon and I want to make certain mine goes today. Take care of yourself Jack.

Love,

Vivienne

February 6th, 1942

My Dear Jack,

No letters have arrived from you yet. My heart tells me you must be writing but this mail system lets me down. I so long to hear from you. You must be in preparation for the journey.. My deepest wish is that you will have something from me before you leave. Have any of my letters arrived? I've decided to put a tiny silk neck scarf in this envelope. It is so delicate, I doubt it will add weight. Please let me know if it makes it's way to you?

I shall go to sleep tonight again wearing your shirt, the plaid flannel one you wrapped around my shoulders the night you walked me home from the dance. I love it. It smells like you, Jack. Clean, like soap. If Mama knew I was wearing it, she'd make me wash it. I never want to wash it.. it's all I have of you.

I went to see a movie with Patsy. There was a newsreel with war information, telling everyone to buy savings bonds and Uncle Sam needs YOU. I cried. He already has you. It reminded us to support the troops and send happy letters. I will try. I promise I will. I'm so proud of you for volunteering.. You are brave and wonderful and strong and mmmmmm... so special.

A new National Geographic came today. After everyone reads it, Mama said I can send it to you. "It's the least we can do for our boys", she said. We all laughed. And there are no naked ladies from Africa in this one. What will you do???? I think if one came with bare breasts, Mama might change her mind and not let me send it. Dearest Jack, I remember your hands, on my breasts.. And the shivers they brought. I am waiting for you.

The mailman will be here soon so if I'm to send this today, I must say goodbye. My love, my heart follows you wherever you go. Remember that.

Love,

Your Vivienne

Thursday, February 12, 1942
At Sea, Somewhere in the North Atlantic

My Sweet Vivienne

I had hoped to write sooner but I have been sick this entire week. As you know I have never been on a body of water bigger than a farm pond. But being in the belly of this great gray monster is more than my stomach can endure. The odor down here is horrible; I am surrounded by the smell of vomit and sweat. They let us go top side as often as they can, but the wind is bitter and biting, as I do not have a suitable winter coat. So I either have to endure the cold or the cramped and crowded compartments below.

But despite it all our spirits are high and we are eager to get off of this ship and do something useful. You would laugh if you could see my bunk. Our bunks are the most ungodly contraption, we are stacked six high. The rig is held up with chains and hangs from the ceiling, so that it sways a little with the sea. But the most amusing thing is that we have just 18 inches between us. If I roll over I hit the man above me. It’s not very comfortable, but does makes for a lot of funny off color jokes.

I never imagined that I could be so lonely in such a crowded place. Even with all of these other men packed in here with me, I feel as if I am all by myself. I guess it is because I yearn for your company rather than all of these strangers. I have not made any friends yet, you know that I am shy and don’t easily get on with new people. For the moment I am content to be by myself and think about when we may be together, I hope it is soon, but I am not hopeful.

I wish I felt like writing more, but I am still a bit weak from not eating. I am happy to report that the Navy feeds us well, but I have not had the desire to eat. But I am on the mend and will soon be feeling well I am sure, I will pen another letter soon.

I miss you dearly and look forward to your next letter, the sent on your previous letter is fading a bit, but I can still smell your sweetness upon the paper.

Love
Jack

Sunday, Feb 1st, 1942

Dearest Jack,

I've just returned from church. All the talk was of war and hate and killing.. I'm so afraid for you. Can't we go back in time? Thanksgiving was so wonderful.. Our world was happy. Mama and Papa were happy. They liked you. Remember that. They don't like everyone. I think they saw something special in you. (I'm blushing now.. and feeling warm. I miss you so very much)

I've sent a letter.. I hope you have gotten it. Every one I send will have 'Evening in Paris' splashed on it. It reminds me of 'evening on the porch'.. you, your warmth, your lips pressed against mine.

Something is wrong with Papa.. Mama looks at him strangely but says nothing. I've heard whispering behind their bedroom door. Not the kind of whispering that you and I have done.. worried whispers. Do you know what I mean?

I must go, Papa calls.

Imagine my arms around you, my love.

Always.

Vivienne

PS I am running to mail this in the hope it finds you before your ship leaves. I will try and write every day.

PPS Sniff the envelope! Memories?

Monday, February 9, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

We have just been told that we are to leave for Europe within the hour; I wish I could say more, but I don’t even know the name of our ship or where our finial destination will be. I am filled with trepidation about what this journey will bring. Rumors are that the Jerry’s are sinking a lot of troop transports. I really didn’t want to tell you that but you always asked that I be honest with you, I hope this does not change your mind. But you have always been strong and I thought it better that you know.

I will write from the ship, but I don’t know when I can post them, it may be weeks before you hear from me again.

This doesn’t seem as much as an adventure as it did a few weeks ago. But no matter what comes I will keep thinking of the day when we are together once again. I miss you so. If only I could have a farewell kiss on the docks and wave to you from the ships railing, one last goodbye.

With everlasting Love

Jack

Sunday February 8, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

The letter smelled just as I remember you smelling. It reminded me of the time you and I sat on your mom’s front porch under that thick scratchy wool blanket. I was surprised that she let us sit so close together with our hands out of sight. You were so warm under that blanket on that cold December afternoon. I wish I was still on the porch with you. My desire for you is so strong that I dare not speak it aloud; maybe the distance between us will give us strength.

I didn’t know the name of the perfume; I hope to see Paris some day soon, I hope you would be with me. Maybe after this war we can travel to Paris, would you like to see Paris? Do you have family there?

I hardly know where to start in describing New York City, it is both wonderful and evil. The buildings are so tall that you nearly fall over backwards looking for the top of them. And the bridges are long and tall and made of iron and steel, not wood like at home. But the people seem rude and in a hurry, except when I am in uniform, they are very nice to the servicemen. But it’s still not like home.

My bunkmate Charlie Applewhite, from Decater Georgia, and I, along with a bunch of other fellows went out for a night on the town. We went to Broadway and were going to watch one of those shows, but we ended up going to a nightclub. They had jazz music and lots of hard liquor, and women that all paid us much attention. Some of the other fellows had been here before and seem to have a bit of fun at my expense. They thought that it was amusing that these women seem to care a great deal for me and I thought that they were extraordinary friendly. But I soon learned that they really just wanted to take my money either by getting a free drink or threw more lascivious means. You know I am not a naive person, but I never thought that I would see women selling themselves in such an open manner. It was shameful. I was…..well I better not say more about the matter. Suffice it to say New York City, is both beautiful and ugly.

I do not know when we will leave, they just keep saying soon, so I will write as often as I can before we board ship. I keep smelling your letter and thinking of your warmth, I hope the smell does not fade soon, it’s is one of the few tangible things I have of you.

Love always
Jack

January 30, 1942

My Dearest Jack,

It has only been 2 hours since last your fingers lingered on mine yet still I feel them. I see you everywhere.. by the tree, on the swing, in the rose garden.. galloping up the front steps, your smile widening as you spy me behind the screen door. The roses are gone now, the screen door put away til spring.. will I see you then? Be safe my darling. Promise that you'll come back to me?

Mama says to busy myself and the time will fly. I don't believe her. How can she say that? She has never been through this. Time will drag on as it already has..

But let's smile now.. for I know today you are safe. Tell me of New York? Is it as big as they say? And wild? Is it really a wild city? Have you met any of the other boys? When will you leave? I have so many questions.

I hope you get this letter in time, I started writing as soon as your bus was out of sight. I'm posting it today so that you'll have something to read. Have you smelled it? The letter I mean... I put a few drops of Evening in Paris on it. You said you loved the way it made me smell.. I miss you so.

Come back to me my brave man,

Love, Vivienne

Firday, February 6, 1942
The Port of New York

My Sweet Vivienne

I can’t express what parting from you means to me. The last few days with you were an unimaginable joy, and it is with deep regret that I must part now from you. It seems that our great creator is testing us by showing us our greatest desire then snatching them away. I hope you feel as I do. I am troubled by the time we may spend apart and what it will do to our memories of what we have so recently shared. This will truly be a test.

But I must tell you that I am excited at last to being able to strike a blow for the USA, and help our friends in England. The news here is dark. But that is all I can say, as our Sergeant has made it clear that loose talk will do nothing but help the German and Italians.

New York is a grand place, but I have seen little of it except for Grand Central Station and the barracks here at the marshaling yard. I hear that we will get on one of those big gray ships here any day and sail off to Europe! What an adventure! I look forward to seeing some of this world, knowing only what I have read is our local newspaper and in National Geographic.

But the world is a large place and the grander the sight I will see will only remind me of your beauty.

I must hurry now for the post is about to close and I do not know when I will be able to write again. This is my last piece of writing paper and I don’t know where I am to get more supplies.

With Love
Jack