Dart is writing at the end of an enjoyable day of leave in San Francisco, using V-mail paper he got at the Pepsi-Cola Center.
While he was in town, he had his picture taken twice. They’re not as good as he was hoping for, but he’s sending them along anyway.
He spent every moment of his day alone feeling as though Dot were with him. He rented a bicycle, wishing it had been a tandem, and rode around a park lake. Then he crossed the Bay Bridge to see Since You Went Away. “I won’t mince words about it, nor will I hide my feelings. I liked it very much, and I cried,” he said, mincing words.
Before the letter gets maudlin and he misses the last bus back to Shoemaker, he must wrap it up. “I’ll kiss you goodnight here. Remember how we walked upstairs together the last night?”
Dot writes that she was finally able to send a package to his folks. She managed to gather 10 packs of Pall Malls for Pop, so she hopes he hasn’t quit smoking “for the duration.” What did people mean by that phrase? The duration of the war? It’s not something you hear much anymore. In fact, the only person I ever knew who used it frequently was my grandmother, Ruth Chamberlain.
She reports that she and El went bowling today and were embarrassed by their miserable scores. It only proves how much practice they need. “And to think my very own mother was women’s champion of Greenwich! I’m a disgrace to her name (in more ways than one). Anyway, I beat El.”
There’s a new moon tonight which reminds her that she and Dart were cheated out of even the last quarter moon while he was in Cleveland. She firsts suggests they have a full moon the next time they’re together, but then concedes that it won’t matter if there’s a moon or not, because they’ll be looking at each other.”
She emphatically proclaims that no one could love anyone more than she loves him. Even so, people in love still need to sleep, which she must do now.
If he doesn’t get mail on Thanksgiving she hopes he has a happy one. She’s sent him a little package that she hopes will arrive on time.
I wondered why she’s talking about Thanksgiving so early until I remembered this thing called “Franksgiving.” During the depression or the war years, FDR requested that the nation celebrate the holiday on the third Thursday of November instead of the fourth. I think the theory was that it would extend the holiday shopping season by one week and rev up the economy with more consumer spending.
Dart has had another busy day with little time for answering the stack of Dot’s letters that he carries with him in case he gets a moment to write. Aside from the pre-embarkation processing he had a few days ago, I’m not exactly sure what keeps him so busy. Mostly, he goes from one watch assignment to some other task. It almost seems as though Shoemaker exists simply to give sailors a chance to practice being busy!
He left Oakland around 11:15 last night and didn’t get back to base until 2:30. The line for the bus was 2-1/2 blocks long and required 40 buses to carry everyone. “And to think the Southern Pacific scrapped an electric line three years ago which could have handled the whole crowd all the way from ‘Frisco in half the time it takes buses to run. Oh well, such is progress.”
He hopes she’s able to squeeze in lots of bowling and he accepts her challenge to a game. He admits to being a very poor bowler, a description that remained apt throughout his life.
Yes, he’s glad he made the trip to Cleveland! It would have been worth any amount of discomfort he had experienced even if he was only able to be with her for five minutes.
He’s serious, too, when he says he can’t think of a thing he wants or needs for Christmas. Besides, he suggests that a gift that isn’t asked for or hinted at is a much sweeter gift. He’s as stumped as she is about what to give her.
Reacting to her admission that she regretted not crossing the basement to give him a squeeze when she felt the urge, he says, “Speaking of times when squeezing would have been in order, there are times when I would have liked to squeeze you, too. If we were psychic, we would have had a squeezing session in the cellar. I love the way you put on the old apron and got to work with me. I felt the same way when you were in the kitchen flipping water on me (and dodging ice), and sucking the froth off the Pepsi bottle.” Isn’t it marvelous that the most touching and alluring moments with loved ones are those fleeting, “meaningless” looks or actions that set our hearts aflutter?
He fills the final page with a huge “I LOVE YOU, DOT!!!”
Dot got most of her Christmas shopping done today and now she just has to wait for the fun part – watching people open their gifts on Christmas morning. She and El are giving their father a suit and their mother a coat this year, because those are the last things they’d expect. “I love Christmas and all that goes with it, so the sooner preparations begin and the later they end, the happier I am.” What she gets for Dart is still a mystery to her.
She writes that she misses practicing on his sweet potato and splashing him with water. In fact, she misses his whole family almost as much as he does. They make her feel so welcome when she’s with them!
She’d like him to know that she’s reading “Steel Trails – the Epic of the Railroads” by Martin D. Stevers. She deems it “most interesting.” Now, that’s devotion!
Dart’s letter is short, but oh, so sweet. I’ll quote most of it verbatim, if you’ll indulge me.
“I got a pair of swell letters from you today. They remind me of the things I’ve been remembering for two weeks. How silly I felt about the car. How sweet you look all the time. Your expressions when you were helping Mom. Your eyes when I could look at them without getting the same feeling you mentioned. Your laugh and your smile. Oh, how you sparkle! Every memory I have of you is delightfully precious. The way you wear your clothes is one of my fondest memories – you’re so trim and neat, yet not so frilly and over-done as all the other girls I’ve known. Your hair is beautiful. I love the nose you hate. I like to see you wear your ankle-sox along with stockings: that always looks nice, but it’s even nicer on you. I like your knees, whether they’re clean or dirty. It seems perfectly natural for my arms to be around you, for us to be kissing. I’ve said that before but I think it can be said for all time.”
Doesn’t every girl want a letter like that? Doesn’t everyone want to feel that way about someone?
He wraps up his memories by saying how much he wants to return to their conversation that began in the park Wednesday. After the war, or before, if the war goes on too long, he wants to put a ring on her hand and follow it with another shortly thereafter.
He signs it, “Goodnight, my darling Butch.” Dot had signed a previous letter with that name. What’s up with that? Also, taking a cue from Dot, he writes a goofy P.S. to the doll Tonsilectomy.
One other note: he refers to himself in the opening line as her B.B.F. I assume that means Best Boy Friend? And to think the kids of today think they invented the whole BFF thing. Nuthin’ new under the sun.
Dot wins the brevity prize today. She’s writing from her apartment at the Miller’s again because they asked her to stay over for a couple of nights. She needs to hit the hay because the baby’s first feeding comes at 6:00 AM.
Franklin Simons has moved her to the third floor again. She knows she’ll never get in a rut as long as she’s working there because they switch her around so much.
Dot’s letter today is just the kind that millions of servicemen the world over must have lived for during those dreary, dreadful war years. It’s newsy, breezy, tender, funny and sincere.
“This love of ours is like quicksand. Once you fall in, you sink deeper and deeper and there’s no escape. With quicksand, that’s not so good. But when you’re in love with someone like you, well, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
She confesses that her heart sank when she saw his letter on V-mail paper – normally reserved for those on the front or at sea. She dreads ever receiving a “real” one like that.
It’s official: they’re both a bit wacky because they spend their days pretending the other one is at their side. In Dot’s mind, the two are always racing to see who can stomp on the Lucky Strike package first. As they walk down the street, they count in unison “Hep – 2,3,4.” She says the girls at work thinks she’s nuts. “The only difference between them and me is that I know I’m nuts!”
The San Francisco postmark on his recent letter made her wish he were still at Treasure Island looking forward to his leave. She’s trying not to think such things, lest God assume she’s ungrateful for all they’ve been given.
The pictures he sent from his liberty are swell! The girls at the store agree that he’s dreamy, although Dot dares them to argue with her. She’s heard that photos like that tend to fade in the light, so she’s going to try to preserve them.
She’s happy he likes the idea of a scrapbook and she’ll take his advice not to ship it to him for fear of it getting lost. She’ll plan now to take him up on his offer to look it over and make additions the next time they’re together.
Today at work, she stood watching the elevator, wondering what she’d do if the doors opened and he stepped out. She became quite smitten with the idea of a surprise visit from him, so she’s asked him to keep his next visit hush-hush. He has a standing invitation to come to the Chamberlain home – after all, they have three empty bedrooms, so something will always be available to him. I hope he can oblige and give her this one wish – the sooner, the better. “Of course, you understand you may find me in overalls, shorts, housecoat or just getting out of bed. But that will assure you how truly you love me. If you can love me in shorts, you can love anything – even Shoemaker.”
El saw Since You Went Away in NYC and had the same reaction as Dart. Dot vows to see it as soon as it comes to Greenwich, but if Dart cried, she’s afraid that when she sees it, the other patrons will be washed away from all her tears.
“You ask if I remember how we walked upstairs on our last night,” she writes. “What do you think I’ve been living on for two weeks? Yes, Darling, I remember and always will.”
After the high school football game tomorrow, there’s a big Chamberlain Thanksgiving at the house. Her cousins Betty and Janie will be there with their parents and older sister Marian, up from North Carolina to announce her pregnancy.
She concludes the letter with her thoughts of gratitude for all she’s been given. In spite of the war, Americans can look up and observe the weather, rather than the bombers flying overhead. She’s eternally grateful for the chance to know Dart and love him so deeply.
Dart explains that he didn’t write last night because he was in Oakland on a little shopping trip. No luck on gift ideas for his parents, but he got a little something for his sweetheart.
Today he went to sick bay about his back and must return tomorrow. He gives no details, but just hopes this doesn’t turn into a siege at the hospital.
After enumerating all that he is thankful for (Dot being top on his list), he settles in to answer the stack of letters from her. He’s hoping to take some of her letters with him in his sea bag to help pass the time during the long days aboard the transport ship. I imagine that trip, aboard a vessel with few amenities and sailors with no daily chores or assignments must be almost terminally tedious.
He reiterates that he has no ideas for Christmas gifts. He is allowed very little space, especially if he gets assigned to a destroyer, and he wants to save that space for some of the mementos he already has (like Dot’s picture?). He admits there are disadvantages to being in the Navy, but he has no answer for her.
He’s quite impressed that she’s reading the “Steel Trails” book – a volume that holds a prominent place in his personal library. He even recommends another book she might like, but frankly, I suspect he’s pressing his luck. I’m not sure how interested in knowing about trains she really is.
Dot and El seem to have a booming trade going in childcare. From what he’s seen, he imagines Dot would be very good with kids because she seems to have the right disposition. Of course little Chris remembered her! She’s unforgettable.
There is zero chance he’ll be assigned shore duty. There are 3,000,000 men wishing for the same thing, but those with families will get first consideration. He expects he’ll not only have sea duty, but will also be among the last discharged when the war is over. It’s a gloomy prediction, but probably right on the money. Dot may as well begin to come to terms with the reality of having a sweetheart in the Navy.
He’s curious about which team was victorious in the Greenwich/Stamford football game. Speaking of the game, he can visualize little Dottie as captain of the Alley Cats, grabbing the ball from some ragamuffin and tearing through all the opposition to the goal. “Is that where you learned the nice hold you used on me?”
When Dart is giving his sales pitch about the wonders of Dot, he’s apparently quite credible because his listeners often ask how a (supply your own word here) like him ever won the heart of such a woman. Some accuse him of creating Dot out of his own wild fantasies.
Yes, he agrees that Shoemaker is the type of place that grows on you – like a malignant tumor. It was designed to make all other places look good, even troop transport carriers. There’s a huge cadre of fire control men there with him and they all expect to get their draft any day now.
He tells Dot that he spent some of his time on the west bound train making sketches of a future house for them. He describes a grand, yet cozy place in fine detail and included a very preliminary sketch. He’d love to hear her ideas of room arrangement, garage placement, trim features, etc. He enclosed the sketches for her comment.
He loves her deeply and hopes they can make a house like this one a reality someday.
Dot packs a lot of enthusiasm into a few lines. The football game was the best she’s ever seen, even though Greenwich lost by 5 points. The feast was fabulous (she lists the long menu of delicacies) and Dart and Gordon were with them in spirit.
She must be at work in short order for the post-Thanksgiving shopping season, so she needs to go to bed.
Dart spent the morning repairing the wooden walkways that run throughout Camp Shoemaker. The gravel walks they used previously get absorbed into the soupy mud because there’s so much rain here. He carried lumber, saw, hammer and nails all over the camp, replacing rotted planks as he went.
He got Dot’s letter where she mentions collecting cigarettes for Pop. Dart assures her that his dad will be pleased. “See, it takes a pretty face to get things like that – not even a uniform helps anymore.” I guess tobacco products were one of the long list of rationed commodities.
There’s a beautiful moon hanging out above Shoemaker, surrounded by a rainbow-hued halo that makes it look sort of tarnished. The night sky is uncharacteristically clear, so the stars are sparkling and plentiful. Dart recognizes the advantage to being 40 miles from a big city when he sees how close the stars appear to be. He always likes the stars in a winter sky because they seem to sparkle more.
His favorite time of day around here is late afternoon when the shadows lengthen and the clouds take on a golden or pinkish cast. “The whole world seems to take on an air of peace, comfort, and quiet.”
He decides to describe his surroundings, now that he’s had some time to observe them. “Each morning we awaken to cold quarters and a heavy front. A thick fog blots out the sky and all but nearby objects by 0700. The sun rises to disclose a ring of green mountains at distances up to six miles, which completely surround “Sleepy Hollow.” As the sun gets higher, the mountains seem to recede and the fog leaves entirely. About noon, we’re sweltering. Aside from the barren, unfinished, scarred appearance of Fleet City (Camp Shoemaker, Camp Parks and a hospital) the valley is a beautiful place, with green fields, white houses with red roofs, and here and there, a row of willow trees following a meandering brook, or tall poplars along the road.”
“The mountains are not high, but their tops are not forested… Toward evening, as the sun sinks lower, the mountains change their color to a blurred, heavy blue-green and they seem to be moving slowly in toward the center of the valley, forming an oppressing wall of darkness. At night, they’re visible against the black sky only as outlines where they blot out the stars.”
Today Dart saw the doctor about his back. They recognized each other instantly from their time at Great Lakes hospital. He said Dart should be on permanent shore duty, but such a recommendation can only be made by a ship’s doctor after he’s been at sea. The prediction is that Dart will be bothered by soreness whenever he’s in a damp climate, for years.
When he examined Dart’s scar, he said “Dr. Pumphrey didn’t do that job, did he?” Dart told him it was Dr. Woldman. “God! You’re lucky you can walk,” exclaimed the doctor.
“I guess the ill-fame of the ‘mad gynecologist’ who dressed open wounds with a smouldering cigar dangling from his mouth, has spread,” retorts Dart. Nothing but the finest medical care for our men in uniform!
He thanks Dot for sending a package, which he can hardly wait to receive, and which he will thank her for more effusively once it does.
He enjoyed her confession that she watches him while he’s not looking and admits she’s not the only one who steals glances. He suggests that they’ll have to practice looking into each other’s eyes when they see each other again. “Remember how we looked together when we saw ourselves in the mirror? We looked a bit tired, but very happy. I wish we’d sat up longer.”
He hopes it’ll take forever to tell her how much he loves her, but for now, he’ll kiss her goodnight and wish the kiss was real.
The two “scrumptious” letters that Dot got today put her into a wonderful mood. She truly appreciates his faithfulness at writing nearly every day.
She understands that he won’t give her any help in Christmas ideas. She thinks men, and especially sailors, are impossible to buy for, but she’ll do her best and he’ll be stuck with the consequences.
Wishing she were better at telling him how much she loves him, she instead must resort to writing down the lyrics of a popular Mills Brothers tune called ‘Til Then. This must have been a song written for the millions of lovers all over the world who endured long-term separation during wartime. It is quite poignant and sentimental, and definitely captures the longing that Dot feels.
In a strange change of subject, Dot gets a little serious and tells Dart he needs to stop talking about her in such glowing terms. She loves to hear them, but she has faults – lots of them – and fears the day when he’ll wake up and discover that his “dream” has become a “nightmare.” She claims her father says she is his little nightmare and El is his “day-colt.” Her low self image sometimes makes me sad.
She likes to hear about his plans for the future, but reminds him that he wants to finish college. She advises him to cross each bridge as it comes, but hopes the plans won’t take too long in coming true.
She has been transferred again – this time to the young men’s department, where she works with the only male sales clerk in the store. Dart might be jealous, but she assures him there’s no need. Mr. Goldstein is a veteran of the First World War. He is single, though. “In fact this morning, he asked me to marry him. I told him I was very sorry but I had other interests so this afternoon he bought me some cookies. He said. ‘I want you to get good and fat so your other interest won’t love you anymore.”
With a promise to join him again tomorrow night, she signs off, leaving room for Tonsillectomy to write a brief note.
It’s a brief letter from Dart, filled with huge thanks for the big package Dot sent. It was full of all sorts of edible treats, which I assume will be much enjoyed by Dart and his cronies.
He hasn’t gone out on liberty this week because it costs too much to go all the way to Oakland and sailors aren’t welcome in the nearby small towns. He wishes he had a bike to explore the valley he’s in.
Just as casual as you please, he drops a little line about expecting to be shipped out the middle of next week!
Then another little line about a Wave asking him for a date. He told her he had a standing date with a girl from Connecticut, but he appreciated being asked. His buddies say he was a chump to turn her down because he might have had a nice time on her dollar. Naturally, he says there’s no girl for him but Dot and he’d rather spend the evening writing to her. He’ll never let anything come between them, even if that Wave did seem like a very nice girl.
Another short letter from Dot as she plays nursemaid for the Miller boys. She tells a cute story of going up to check on Chris and finding him fast asleep and looking irresistibly adorable. She gently lifted him out of his bed and sat rocking him for a few minutes. She was pleased she’d been able to do that without waking him up, when he slyly opened one eye, smiled a bit and said “Hello, Dot.” She’s pretty fond of that little rascal.
She writes that she used to make fun of folks who said they felt the presence of a loved one, even when that person was far away. Now she knows the sensation is real. She felt Dart with her all day, even felt his arm around her shoulder. She only wishes it was more than her imagination, but since he can’t be there, she’s grateful she at least has the sensation that he is.
She and El plan to bowl tomorrow and Dot expects her score will improve over last week’s.
This letter from Dart is hard to read because he used both sides of onion skin paper. The contents, however, are easy on the heart.
He’s standing watch again, but it’s a slow night with nothing to do. He recalls that she said she could get in trouble for writing to him while on the job; he’s also breaking the rules by doing so, only he could get shot for it!
Earlier, he wrote a letter to his beloved high school English teacher, Miss Palmer. He included a similar sermon of the power of well-used language that he’d included once in a letter to Dot. He explains that he’s not referring to the use of “who” vs “whom,” or the proper verb form for the third person singular subjective. He’s more interested in someone who can use the right words to explain complex ideas so that similar ideas or things are excluded in the definition, resulting in a clear description of that which they’re trying to distinguish from all other things. With an attitude like that, he was born to excel in his future field of technical writing and editing.
He hopes Dot gets to go bowling and improve her score. (Isn’t that a game where low score wins, he asks slyly.) She may be able to beat him at that, but he thinks after he takes a Charles Atlas course, he could soundly whoop her at a no-holds-barred wrestling match like the one they had that Wednesday of Thursday night in Cleveland. Now doesn’t that conjure up some enticing mental images?
He’s happy to see he’s received a promotion in her eyes. Where he used to be the best sailor except for Gordon, he’s now the best doggoned sailor in the world.
He wishes they could practice some more gear-shifting now, only without the cracked cylinder head that occurred before. He mourns the fact that cars after the war will be automatics, eliminating the need for that delightful mode of one-armed driving they have perfected together.
The idea of a scrapbook telling the story of Dot and Dart intrigues him. Is there anything she’d like him to send to include there? He wants it to hold a special place in the house they’ll build together someday.
She has been doing such a great job in her letters of telling him how much she loves him. He feels his words have fallen flat, but he loves her more than words can say.
Now he must kiss her goodnight again. He recalls that the moment in Cleveland when she told him he needn’t ask her permission to kiss her because she wasn’t planning on kissing anyone else was one of the biggest moments of his life. I’ve heard that story all my life and always thought it was so endearing. Obviously, so did Dart.
After returning from bowling, at which she fared as poorly as last week, Dot and El sat at their kitchen table picking meat off the turkey. She was enjoying herself so much that she wished she could share the fun with Dart. She got to thinking that if she can’t send him turkey, she could send him cookies, so she set about making him a batch of Toll House. “I hope by the time you get them they won’t be all crumbs, and stale ones at that.”
She is astounded that Christmas is just four weeks from today. The radio played a number of carols today, including I’ll be Home for Christmas, which always makes her cry. She recalls that when she heard that song last year, she prayed the war would be over by this Christmas and that everyone would be home safe and sound. Here it is, another Christmas with the war still raging. She can’t imagine the same will be true in 1945!
She inserts this charming little paragraph, “Say, I’ve been meaning to ask what are you planning on doing for the rest of your life? Think you’ll be very busy? Thought maybe we could keep each other company if you had nothing special planned.”
A quick note from Dart brings s couple of perks, including a clipping from the East Cleveland Leader that Dart suggests might be good material for Dot’s scrapbook. The clipping must have made it into the book because it’s not included among the letters. I wonder what it covered? Maybe a blurb about Dart being home for leave? A morsel about Miss Dot Chamberlain of Greenwich, Connecticut attending a Shaw High School football game? Maybe Mom will remember and give us a clue.
Dart says he was called out of work detail by the battalion commander because he “does the work of eight men” and needs a rest. Dart thinks it’s ironic that the only thing he’s worked hard at is avoiding hard work. The many messenger watches he’s volunteered for have gotten him out of physical labor and K.P. “Anyway, to be praised by an officer who is despised by his men bears little honor, no prestige and certainly no love from the buddies.” You can’t say Dart isn’t honest!
He may skip liberty tomorrow because he thinks he’s coming down with another cold. He fills the rest of the page with a pencil sketch of a pea coat-clad sailor standing shin-deep in mud. Also several post scripts about his mother receiving a nice note and some photos from Dot, and a letter from Ruth Chamberlain, the suit Dot is wearing in the photos and a reminder that he loves her.
We’re on a run of short letters from these two busy kids. Dot had a visit from a cousin she’d not seen since before going to Andrews School, so he and Dot and El stayed up until 1:00 am getting caught up on family news.
She hasn’t been getting many letters from Dart but hopes for one tomorrow. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive when he’s at sea and his mail comes less frequently.
“It was only about three weeks ago that I saw you and already it seems like three years. Why in heck doesn’t this war end?” Good question, Dot.
Dart writes from San Francisco where he went expressly to see Bob Hope in The Princess and the Pirate which he describes as a hilarious mellow drama. He won’t give away the surprise ending but urges Dot to see it for herself.
Last night he went to meet with a guy in the personnel office who grew up in Cleveland and went to Shaw. The guy asked Dart what kind of ship he’d like to be on and Dart answered either a big battleship or an aircraft carrier. The man put it into Dart’s record and Dart considers it a done deal. If a big ship comes up soon, he’ll depart Shoemaker before some of the guys he’s with. He may have to chase the ship half way around the world before boarding her, but he’s excited by the prospect of serving on one of these monster ships, if he must go to sea (which he must). Can the Navy be counted on to follow its own directions about placing him where he wants to be? Stay tuned!
That’s all for tonight.
This is a rare letter from Dot – one in which she expresses hurt and frustration. It reveals that while she habitually looks on the bright side of things, she’s not always so happy.
El’s fiance Don is about to graduate. From there, the Army will decide whether to ship him overseas as a medic or send him to medical school on their nickel. El is eaten up by anxiety, crying at the drop of a hat. The other day, Dot made the mistake of suggesting that since the outcome she dreads is not yet reality, she’d feel better if she stayed positive and hopeful until there was actual reason to be sad and disappointed. Her words sent El into a screaming fit, with Betty taking El’s side. “How would you feel if your fiance was being shipped overseas?,” asked Betty. Dot replied that someone she cares just as much about is being shipped out. Just because Don and El have announced to the world that they plan to marry doesn’t mean they love each other any more than Dot and Dart. Her mother told her she was being selfish. Dot says there isn’t a person in the world who wants Don and El to get married more than she does!
Dot pleads with Dart to wake up to her faults now so that he won’t be shocked when he learns her family’s opinion of her. She hopes that facing reality won’t turn him against her; in fact, she’d love it if he could acknowledge her faults and love her in spite of them.
She feels she should just learn to keep her thoughts to herself, but wonders what the world would be like if folks with different points of view were not permitted to express them.
I find it harsh that her family seems to come down so hard on Dot. It seems as though all signs point to her being highly agreeable, hard-working, modest to a fault, thoughtful, and funny. What more could a family want? Still, they do seem to expect a great deal more from her.
She apologizes for writing such a horrid letter and promises a cheerful one tomorrow.
