15 Feb February 15, 1945

Letter
from: Mrs. G. Shonkwiler
to: Private George W. Shonkwiler
February 15, 1945, Thursday, 10 o’clock p.m.
Noteworthy: Mom talks about pleasing Dad.

Darling,

I’m ashamed of myself for not writing yesterday, Valentine’s Day, but I went
to bed early instead. I just felt about like I did on New Year’s Eve, and
that was mighty low. When I feel that way, I’m much better off in bed than
probably writing a nasty or blue letter to you. You wouldn’t want to receive
a discouraged sounding letter, would you? I know you must have days like
that, too, so you probably know what I mean.

I washed yesterday and dyed the shag rug I received from Chuck and Betty at
Christmas. It was peach and I dyed it Dusty Rose, as the wallpaper is
Dusty Rose and ivory in the bedroom. My curtains are pale

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green, also spread and lace doilies on vanity. So you see your bedroom is
now rose ivory and green instead of blue as it was when you left.

Today, Ronnie and I went shopping on the Avenue. It was actually warmer
today, 44 degrees, which is a change from sub-zero, altho about 3:30 this
afternoon it started to get windy and cold, and is getting colder than ever
tonight. I bought a load of groceries at the A&P and at Bernie’s and a
few odds and ends at the Avenue. I also bought $2.58 worth of material to
make myself a wash dress. I actually feel guilty when I buy anything for
myself when my money is so scarce. But I have so few things to wear in
the summer, I thought

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I might save a little, making myself a dress now instead of waiting to buy
one later. Materials are so scarce too that I thought I’d better buy now
before it’s all gone.

Someday when you get back, honey, and we have lots and lots of money, I’ll
go out and blow myself to a whole new outfit and forget about price tags.
(Oh yeah, I can dream, can’t I?) It would be a wonderful feeling to do that
just once, however, after scrimping for so long. At present it doesn’t
interest me in the least, as there’s very little sense buying clothes when
I have no place to wear them.

I’ve had the funniest feeling lately as though I’ll see you soon. Could it
be possible you might

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be sent back to the States? My premonitions very often come true, and I sure
hope this one does.

I’m invited by Edith to a luncheon tomorrow at 1:00, and there seems no way
I can get out of it. It’s the golden anniversary of the Pullman Women’s Club,
and is to be quite an event. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.
Mrs. Dixon is letting Ronnie take his nap at her house tomorrow afternoon.

I paid the gas bill and telephone bill yesterday, so now all I owe is about
$10 at Bernie’s and $9.60 electric bill. I also paid the $4.83 Met insurance
this week. I’m down to $7 now, till the first part of March, when I get the
allotment again. Of course I’ll get Page’s rent, which will help some.

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After putting Ronnie to bed tonight, I made a new pillow top for one of the
pillows on the Davenport. It’s a rose and green floral, and I put a brown
edging around it. It looks pretty nice! There I go, getting conceded.

Ronnie and I had lunch at Ford and Hopkins Drug Store this noon. We had
beef stew with noodles, coffee, milk, and graham cracker custard pie — all
for the sum total of $0.58. Even that seems a lot to me now. You can
imagine how much fun I had feeding Ronnie while he was swinging around on
his stool. It’s bad enough in a booth, but they’ve taken all their booths
out. I s’pose because of the help shortage, who wants to be a drugstore
waitress, when one can make $200 per week at Pullman?

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Ronnie got a birthday present from Norma today. It’s a long-sleeved
sports sweater. It has a v-neck and front and a wine-colored
back and sleeves. It’s a little large, but it won’t be long. She also
sent an apron she’d made to me, altho it’s not my birthday. It’s cute,
and I can always use another apron. Can’t understand where she gets cotton
material, as that can’t be bought anywhere in Chicago. Rayons are plentiful,
however.

Gee, I haven’t had a letter for eight days, so any day now, one would be
pretty welcome. You ask in one of your letters how much I’d paid all
these people to say nice things about me. Whatever I paid them, it wasn’t
cash. I always make good impressions on people I don’t care about. Must
be I’m nicer to people I dislike

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than people I like. I wonder why? Either that or they’re the people who
like my ugly disposition, could be! Well, just so you and Ronnie think
I’m okay, is really all I care about, and in your case that’s doubtful,
as it seems I didn’t please you too much in your estimation while you were
at home. After all they say you should never hope to change people after
you marry ’em, so guess you have to put up with me somehow, as I doubt
whether I’ll ever be either a perfect housekeeper, or get ready to go places
on time. I guess if we could ever bridge that distance between us, I guess
we could very easily forgive each other’s faults, but the problem is when
we will get

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together again? At present you seem darn near perfect to me. Must be
’cause you’re thousands of miles away.

Have you received any more boxes? Long about July, you should be getting
that heavy wool sweater and muffler I sent last October. Might do you a
lot of good then.

I wrote Gladys and asked her to come in this weekend, but haven’t heard
from her as yet.

Ronnie and I went over to see Edith Kuester at the draft board today and
gave her a copy of that WLS interview of your combat exploits. She’s
keeping one for their files at the board.

Well honey, I is sort of sleepy and it’s 11:30, so good night, good luck,
and lots and lots of love and kisses from your

Mom and Ronnie.