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  • Writer's pictureFlea Market Love Letters

January 27, 1943.




My dearest Jack,

I hope that you are thinking of me with affection my fine young Marine.

Note – This is the letter I told you that I started but didn’t finish, Thursday morning I left home on one of my little field trips, not planning to come home until Saturday noon. And then Thursday Mom called the office and said I had a letter. We couldn’t think of any way for me to get it except for pop to give it to Catherine Fowler and have her bring it to work Friday morning. And then a terrible snow storm started Thursday morning “assuming blizzard like proportions” or the radio said. Well, I was staying with Ann, so I didn’t have any trouble getting there, but buses were held up terribly. Catherine said later that she didn’t get home until after 7:00.

So all Thursday night I worried that Catherine couldn’t get to work Friday and I wouldn’t get my letter anyway. But Friday came out Catherine too, so everything was perfect. It was the sweetest letter in ages, darling. I loved every word of it. I could start reciting it at any page you name, I’ve read it so often. The poor thing is just worn out. (Now it’s Saturday afternoon, January 30, in case you want to know). I just got home and decided to carry on with the letter where I left off after one sentence. I’ll answer every little part of your letter. It’s the one dated Jan. 16th “wishing I was with you!”.

It’s funny to think of you worrying about me. All I ever get is a little cold or something now and then. I’m really quite a healthy piece of frill.

That was terribly exciting about the trouble you had with the landing gear on your plane. If you weren’t so clever about knowing what to do, maybe things wouldn’t have been so good.

You just forget that black article you seem so interested in. You’re getting to be a terrible wolf, guy, in case you haven’t noticed it. Maybe I’d better just give it away to somebody and stock up on long red flannels. With a man like you, well maybe it would be a good idea.

Remember the bashful person you were once? I think I’ll have to get the low-down from Amo and Frosty. Give me their addresses and I’ll drop them each  a little note.

I’m glad you finally got the candy. Was it in eatable condition? You didn’t mention bugs – I hope it was fine.

I hadn’t mentioned that Flynn business before, even though it’s been going on for months.  It’s pretty low lstuff. Kind of a dumb California law. He was never idea of much anyway. He wouldn’t stay home with his wife – he was always dashing around on some boat looking for excitement. The two girls are even worse, so that’s that.

Arnold and Glenna took some pictures of me a while ago, to send you and she had some of them in her album. She was showing them to her roommates Uncle, at their apartment in Hartford, and he was quite interested and asking “How about getting acquainted?” But Glenna told him to stop because I was engaged to a Marine. Then he said “A Marine? Well, let’s just forget it. If it were a soldier or a sailor all right but a Marine – that’s different.”

So you see you don’t have to get jealous if I go to a party or dance at a wedding because a Marine girl has sort of a “protective covering” all around her. No ordinary civilian would dare make a pass. I can’t guarantee other Marines, though.

In case you’re wondering why the pictures are in Glenna’s album, it they were taken for you – here’s the explanation: They were given too much light in developing and are a little blurry, so Arn had them made again, but we haven’t got them yet. One was pretty good though, so I sent it along. That’s the one of me reading a letter. You probably have it by now. The others are lights.

You know darling, it feels awfully funny for me to love somebody so much and have him so far away – me, who was so fickle, I had a crush on a different fellow every couple of weeks. Out of sight, out of mind. So it must be real. (Must be something to it!).

I’ll always love you,

Betty

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