Description
1710 7. St. NW Washington, D.C. Wed. May 10th 6 p.m. My darling I've just received your wonderful first letter - it is a wonderful letter, really. As full of life and so warm - it made me love you twice as much. Almost. Last night I was lonely for the first time here. I had to move from the Roger Smith, was told at the Y that no single was available yet but that I could have half a double - but if I took the latter I could not transfer to a single later (just a current house rule). I didn't like the idea of sharing a room with a stranger. I didn't like the people at the Y desk (just like the men in [9 p.m.] “Three Soldiers” - prissy and pious) and furthermore I was tired and didn't feel like hunting for another place or moving. But I took out my little notebook, consulted the list of three or four rooming places given near the Navy Billeting Office where I’d dropped in with Hugh and others in the afternoon, and with a half hour to spare before I had both give up my hotel room and inform the Y of my intentions, I decided to do some ‘phoning and see what there was to offer. The first place I tried was the one on the enclosed card. Mrs. Hayden said, Yes, she had a double, [pg 2] but the rate was $3 a day or $15 a week - No, I wouldn't be interested - But wait: it's just possible that you might to move in with three other boys - navy officers - who share a very large room with adjoining bath… I didn't know what made me even consider it, but it was just two blocks away and I thought I’d have just time to go look at it. It was then that I felt most depressed, having only this and the Y to choose between. But when I saw the room I decided to take it and make the most of the arrangement. It's really not bad. It is scrupulously clean (the beds have a faint smell of that sweetish disinfectant) and everything, apparently including bedding, is newly furnished. The room itself has a big kitchen sink and the bathroom next to it entirely new fictures. The house is old with high ceilings (and the largest front screen door I've ever seen); this room does hold four small maple beds without crowding. There’s barely enough drawer space in the bureau and desk - [Chiffonier?], and adequate space for foot lockers and bags. My roommates are an ensign, a j.g. and a lieutenant, all here on temporary duty or duty under instruction. The ensign, Strom, 6’4” and pleasant - he dashes in and out and writes reams of letters to his girl must be [pg 3] 27 or 28; he is studying Ordnance, specifically depth charges. The j.g., Mańgĕs, is 34, taught commercial subjects in Indiana where his wife and nine-year-old son are, and is in Communications. The lieutenant, Montgomery, is in Personnel; I've only seen him early this morning when we shook hands from where we lay in adjoining beds on waking up at 6:30. It's not at all an unpleasant arrangement, however amusing to contemplate; perhaps preferable to living alone, although I seldom have minded the latter in the past. I do miss you, darling - I wish you could be here to see Washington with me; I don't think I'll tire of it in the time we'll be here. Tonight I made me way through the downtown section for the first time on a streetcar to the station, where I made arrangements to have my footlocker sent here. Happened to meet Bob [?uld] (Yale boy from Park Ave, N.Y.), another of the group working in the same room like Hugh, at the Baggage room in the station and came back with him. (I don't like this pen for writing letters; it's [pg 4] too cramped). Tomorrow is the night the stores are open and I'll go shopping for those announcements, ‘phoning you from downtown. During the day, at the Navy Building, I expect to see Huidmarsh about getting off when you go to the hospital. Mr. Shaw was encouraging, said that such an event qualified as a family emergency [?] one to liberty not counting as leave. That reminds me that I've promised to write Larry LeSage a check for about $12, in return for cash, because he can't get to where he can buy a money order. (He lives way out - in Alexandria, I think). To balance that, I'll probably send you my transportation check when I get it in a day or two. I haven't written Lucille yet (she's not listed in the phone book, although Chevy Chase is) but I will soon. I'll probably lookup Janet Berry next week. Oh, I didn't finish telling you about this place here, or rather its proprietors! When I moved in with my stuff, half an hour after being [pg 5] shown the place by Mrs. Hayden (at which previous time she had asked me if I hadn't been here before, in a quizzical voice), she remarked again that she was sure she’d seen me before, and: “Do you know Louise Smith…?” Right away something clicked and I realized that she was Mabel, who roomed with Louise at 60 W. 10th for a few months 4 or 5 years ago. She was a nurse then, going with a little, semi-baldheaded and mustached guy name Joe; their romance furnished Louise with some amusement and gossip. Now Mabel and Joe own this house and are prospering with it; Joe is expanding into secondhand furniture - just bought up a lot of 150 footlockers and is selling them like hotcakes. John will be amused at this further coincidence, as will Louise and Betty: you must tell them about it soon. Sally was a year old when Mabel last saw her and I furnished her with what up-to-date information I could. 10 p.m. and time to get ready for bed. I know I've left out lots of things I was going to tell you but we'll catch up on all that when I see you next, which may be soon. Take care of yourself, darling, and keep writing me nice [pg 6] letters like the one I got today. I'll check the Y desk again tomorrow and until you address me here. I love you, Sweetie, Warren P.S. I think it's appropriate that you should spell the word with a -y in addressing me, while I use -ie.
