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2632 Woodley Place Thursday 10 p.m. My darling wife and daughter, Your letter received tonight the first since Sunday's on the train was especially welcome. I hadn't really expected one sooner and Tuesday night's phone call did help bridge the gap. I'm anxious to know what it was that you hadn't been warned about and that had you shaking for two hours on Monday - don't forget to tell me about it this weekend. Didn't write you last night because we got in at 1:30 after a most amusing and pleasant evening - Jack had us all in stitches with one hilarious remark after another and with support from Hugh and the rest of us - Lucille had a good time and it didn't matter that much of the conversation referred directly or indirectly to Boulder and many of its little associations. We had dinner at the [Shorehaven?] Hotel grill room followed by dancing in another room (it would have been the outdoor terrace but for the rain. I had just enough to drink (3 manhattans and 1 Bourbon) to set me up for the evening (it really improves my dancing) and make me feel good today. You were not forgotten; you were mentioned frequently by everyone. Toni was pleased to know that you liked the afghan; I repeated for Simone what I had told Jack about how much you liked the carriage robe. We all laughed at a story on Hugh - did I tell it to you last weekend? We were getting ready to quit for the day recently and Hugh, his mind still half on his work and half absent as he stood with a couple of us talking, pulled a paper bag out of his blouse pocket, lifted something out of it in plain sight and put it back again, all without paying any attention to what it was or interrupting his reverie. We chuckled: it was a woman's girdle. When Hugh realized what we were grinning at but before he stopped to think he explained, “Oh, that's Toni's. Jack Williams had it.” [pg 2] Will Ebling had a good laugh on himself today (without the self-conscious or embarrassment which usually characterizes him at such moments) and I with him when after we’d had lunch together, he put a nickel in a cafeteria popcorn machine and out came an overfull double handful of popcorn without any container. There he stood, grinning and looking rather helpless with his hands stretched out in front of him, full of popcorn. People at nearby tables had to laugh as he walked carefully to the nearest counter as though he were about to make a sacrifice at the altar, and was given just about the smallest size paper bag made, into which he succeeded in getting perhaps two thirds of the popcorn with the rest going to the floor. This morning we had our most exciting communique to date - a terse, electric statement containing three distinct news items: “B-29 Super-Fortress of the Twentieth-Air Force Command attacked Japan today.” There was a moment's dead silence, then several involuntary whistles and fifteen minutes of [?] speculation. One of the boys heard it on the stairway just before encountering a WAC lieutenant who pointed at him as they moved on and exclaimed gleefully, “That was the Army!” Another newsworthy communique this afternoon told of further attacks on Guam, Tinian and Japan, with the significant new development of landing operations at the last-named. Tonight, after the baseball game which ended about seven (we were beaten 4-3, but it was the best-played game to date, hence the most fun) I wandered over to the shopping district not far from the monument grounds where we play to buy some [pg 3] socks (the last batch I got didn't prove very good - I've worn 3 or 4 pair recently. This time I bought 4 pair of better made ribbed mercerizes’ cotton ones at 50¢). Hoping to see some invasion pictures I had a 30¢ soda fountain [supper?] and sought out the [Tra?slux], where they proved already to be showing some excellent sequences of preparations in England, the coming by sea and air, and the landing operations. Devastating to experience, but I wouldn't miss sharing it as close to first hand as possible. I just want to know what those guys over there had to go through, and I don't want to forget it. I feel that way often, when the war itself seems to drift far away from personal realities and find myself feeling a little guilty about forgetting. On the way home I bought a paper and read it avidly, even looking for more than the considerable news it contained. But I guess that was enough for one day. I mailed the card to Father this morning. Forgot to mention that Will said Ruth is going up to the Cape for a week in a few days. I believe both their families have summer places there. Her sister and children are going too, as well as another relative. Toni is still plugging away with her schoolwork - “squiggles” she calls it - and is definitely aiming at a job in CBS. Somebody from Pearl had been heard from and 7M had arrived (no details); HM had not arrived but had been thought to leave the coast. An Army lieutenant friend of Howell B.'s who's been visiting him at the office two or three times has a most interesting job [?] prospect - remind me to tell you about it. Larry returned some sage (no pun intended) advice on the raising of children today - his mother thinks girls are much [pg 4] harder to bring up (“and Good Lord, she ought to know; she's had enough of them”) - French lessons, dancing school, bridgework and precaution against bowleggedness (all of which don't matter so much with boys) - proper social contacts and, in summary, marriageability. From this and further recitation you catch a glimpse of what Mr. LeSage has had to go through to become the conveniently cultured and insouciant person that he is (and in spite of and/or because of which I enjoy him). The Williamses furniture has arrived and their small cottage, so they report, is full to overflowing with the overflow stowed on the porch. They received no advance warning and were caught with a houseful of rented furniture to contend with at the same time. But they have their china, silver, and linens besides all sorts of extraneous baby things and seem quite happy about being all in one piece again. Wendy is officially on record with the Navy Department but it is a little premature to estimate to what extent (whether 98 or only about 80) she is responsible for the way things are looking up these days. Simone remarked when I was out to visit them last week that, from the standpoint of the war's progress, their first child was born at (what was for her, at least, with the fall of Belgium) the most dismal period, while ours has the good fortune to arrive at the brightest. It's time I be getting to bed. Such fun to write you a decent letter for a change - I do really have to be in the mood for it, I guess, because ordinarily I just can’t write this fast in an hour. Till the sweet soon, my darlings! I love you Warren
