20 Mar March 20, 1944

Letter
from: Alice Shonkwiler
to: Private George W. Shonkwiler
March 20th, 1944,
Monday, 9 o’clock p.m.

Dearest,

I just finished writing your sister Norma.  I received a letter from her today,
so I’m enclosing it.

Didn’t get a letter from you today, made me feel so blue.  This is one of those
nights when nothing but love stories on the air and no love for Mommy.  Of
course, Ronnie’s good night kiss helped and his "God bless Mommy and Daddy",
too.  Don’t know what I’d do without him to help me over the rough spots.
After all, it’s only four weeks until we’ll see you, so that’s what keeps me
going, too.

Marge brought Murray’s letter over tonight for me to read.  I thought you were
a little too blunt about the 90-day wonder theme.  After all, he may still get
his commission, and he’s apt to think you’re envious.  I know that what you say
is true, however, that enlisted men think very little of these overnight
commissioned

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men, but it still wasn’t very nice to say, especially since you wanted to be
one yourself.

I put the second coat on those chairs today, but I’m afraid they need still
another coat, as the wood is so soft it seems to go right in and leaves none on
the surface.  I’ve already put a pint of paint on those two chairs.

Baked a pineapple upside-down cake today.  Tasted pretty good for a change.
Pineapple is now 43 points a can.

Last night as Eleanor and I were sitting here reading, Mr. Page and his guests,
his sister and husband and his father, came down the stairs.  He introduced
them to us, and after they left, he came down again with a dish of Fannie Mae
chocolate for us to eat while reading.  Wasn’t that nice?

Edith dropped in for about an hour while we were eating supper last night and
mentioned that she hoped that those friends of hers in Jacksonville would ask
me to stay there.  But nothing more was said, and I have to make my
reservations

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by the 25th.  So I’ll be sure to have them.  Please write and tell me whether
you think I should come to St. Augustine or Jacksonville and when and so on.
Whether you want me to come the weekend before the 26th or not, I wish I could
buy a spring coat to wear down there, but I suppose that would be impossible
as they are at least $30.  I don’t really have one that’s very nice.  Don’t
suppose you’d want me to touch my Pullman Bank account, would you?  If you say
so, I’ll get along without somehow.  I’m getting used to it now.  The only
thing is I wanted to look extra nice when I see my honey.  After all, you’ll
have a new outfit.

Marge told me Saturday night that her mother had seen Gladys (I mean Murray’s
mother) and that she had taken a couple weeks off to take the census (or was
it something else? anyway it must be for Mrs. Holmes) and that she may quit
her job and take over Dick’s job if he has to go.  If he doesn’t have to go

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she may still go to work for National Biscuit.  Maybe you know more about it
than I do, as she wrote to you.  Funny, I haven’t heard a thing from her as yet.
Marge told me I could ride down to Glady’s with them some Sunday when they go
to see his folks, but I hate to do that without her invitation.  Of course
when she was here she told me to come out to see her, but I thought she could
write or call and make a definite date if she wants to see us badly enough.
Am I wrong?  Tell me if I am, as I don’t want to cause hard feelings of any
kind.

Ronnie and I played football again this morning.  We have fun, but I suppose
some of my neighbors think I’m batty.  Doesn’t faze me, though, as long as
Ronnie gets fresh air.  We also went for a walk this afternoon.  Forgot to tell
you, he fell and bumped his head Saturday.  Come to think of it, I guess I told
you at that.  Nothing serious anyway.

Good night Darling, here’s a few big kisses from us,
Mommy and Ronnie.

P.S.
Read that Ford thinks the war will end in two months.  But won’t tell the
reason why he thinks so.  Also here, Detroit is already starting to connect
machines to make cars again.  Only a rumor, of course.
Love, Mommy.