Thursday, March 8, 1945

(pages for January 25-March 7 have been removed)
Another long day, and the question of how long you can live on memories and future visions without becoming a nuisance to your associates. I am lost - I should be in London. No one to talk to here except Jack Strong - I have coffee with him in Ward 22 nights. He likes me because I am "in the Screwball Division".

Sunday, February 25, 1945

Jimmie called at 11:30 and said he slept late, the baby - I was glad. I told him that my train would be in around noon Monday and to call me at the Mostyn Red Cross Club. He said he couldn't even bear to drink withour me - had had two ales. The picture progressing nicely.

Thirty years later, Minneapolis, Minnesota - We met in front of the Mostyn Club by accident and went to a shabby little hotel that did a big favor for Americans and their gals by not asking for papers of any kind. We found a room being vacated by a cheerful party, all of whom had hangovers and wished us a good time. It was the first time we had ever been really alone. It was a transcendent experience! We spent most of the time just feasting our eyes and saying, "Are you really here? Is this true? Am I dreaming?" He bought me primroses, and later a bottle of Je Reviens cologne. I now - all these years later - have the same kind of scent - hard to buy in London then. We found a small club off Oxford St., the Court Club, paid our pound for membership, and after a few gins Jimmie took over the piano, to everyone's pleasure. "Home" together, and breakfast in the morning. The business of passing cold toast and orange marmalade was a religious rite - our parting was terrible. And we were never to be together again like that, not for breakfast.

Saturday, February 24, 1945

Had British Night at the club and was nice to three Flying Officers - pleasant, but certainly missed Jimmie's divine fingers on the piano - I'm lost without him.

Friday, February 23, 1945

Jimmie called about 4 o'clock - said he didn't know it was possible to miss anyone so much. Told me he'd call Sunday AM and we'd plan for Monday in London. The time was interminable - I was so used to seeing him every day, but I feel big events are in store for him in the studio - and with the band in London. This is no place for him. But the Colonel wants to keep him.


He said the letter I wrote him en route from Stratford was the most wonderful thing that ever came from a fountain pen! He read it over and over.

Thursday February 22, 1945

(pages for February 9-21 are blank or removed)
Walked alone across the pasture and through the village to Anne Hathaway's Cottage - found it intact, perfect, and utterly incredible. It looked so uncomfortable for a love affair in 1500 or 1600. When was it? The gardeners were sowing and pruning "under an English Heaven". I wished for Jimmie so much. Caught a train after visiting a hand-loom weaver's, and buying a scarf, and a tie for Jimmie. All the way home in the train I wrote him a letter - how I felt, how I missed him.

Arrived at 5:00 in town - called him - was told by Kingdom that they were all leaving for three weeks in the AM! Back to London. I saw him at 7:00 and we were so happy to be together - it was troubling to separate - gave him some supplies to take - promised to see him Monday. Gave him my letter to read later.

Thursday, February 8, 1945

Spent the day in the building polishing my Red Cross manners - the boys were fun in the PM hanging around the desk while I cut felt patterns. Looked up to see Capt Baker striding in, in his beret and burberry - awfully, awf''ly British - cherub face, cute smile, and sort of threatening attitude! He's going to get a bottle of Scotch for me - he will, too. Most amusing fellow. He's inherited two businesses, quite well-heeled, I'm sure. Friendly and warm, like a great puppy. The Americans like him.

Went to Ward 40 at 4:30 and found it in an uproar making felt animals. Went back at night and took them cards, newspapers, books, stationery, checkers - they're like children in an orphanage - noisy. Now, Ward 49 was quieter, more polite, and Ward 50 was more quiet and sweet.

Met Jimmie at 8:00 striding down the ramp after me - fed up wit his USO actors. We had a coke while he unburdened his mind, then walked to our tree where it was cold and damp, but lovely. Coffee in the mess - how happy he makes me.

Wednesday, February 7, 1945

Tea and dinner with F/Lt Parker at Mead House. Went to the Three Bells for beers between. Two Paratroop officer patients from our neighbor hospital asked about a pub, and as I didn't think any were open I sent them to the Red Cross to wait until 8:00. John and I found the Bells so I rushed up the street and rescued them from the Red Cross cokes and brought them to the Bells. Very grateful - beers all around. A Welshman, an Irishman (RAF) found us. Back to the club here at 9:00 and celebrated Capt Haugun's new commission with cokes while John waited in the bar. He decided he won't see me often since smooches are out, heh-heh! Called J. from the mess and found him low in mind, but exciting as usual. Resisted the urge to walk 30 yards to see him.

(pictured: Chief Nurse, Capt. Ella Haugun)

Tuesday, February 6, 1945

Discovered I'd missed the boys' broadcast last night with Jimmie doing all the music and Paddy and Leo putting on a five hour program. The script was good. Jimmie furnished the setting on piano. The gals say he is wonderful! (Who are they telling?) My heart ached actually, first for not being there. Jimmie missed me, but said he was playing to me anyway. He felt flat and unhappy afterwards - there's no doubt we are tied together by some mysterious likeness. He came to the show at the Rec Hall early - we stood together without seeing anything on the stage. Made ardent love to me in whispers - we finally stood outside and got the giggles - later we were together two hours - of bitter-sweet joy.

Monday, February 5, 1945

Day off - couldn't sleep after 9 o'clock - occupied the bridal bed at Mead House - so soft and luxurious I was quite upset. Called Jimmie as soon as I could after breakfast - not wishing to upset him between 9 and 10 (his zero hour he says). The call was fine - we met at the PX at 2, then I went back to Mead House and met Capt Baker. We drove in his 4-seater to Bilbury, an angler's retreat here, and a center for hunt activities.

Had a rather frosty dinner at the Swan - but four Scotches didn't hurt, had quite a merry time really. Back to the Three Compasses in town and to the club. I accused him of acting like an American when he became amorous. Fixed it!

Sunday, February 4, 1945

Got up early to take Dusty's place at the office. Very busy with requests and calls all AM. A Bromo Seltzer and two coffees helped my health problem. Wrote and finished an article on the Red Cross in the PM. It needs editing, but it's practically done. Jimmie stopped for 15 minutes and I gave him two verses that I'd written calculated to raise his ego beyond minding his lack of a hair-cut. We met at 7 at the Red Cross Service Club and I know we were feeling strange at being downtown together for the first time. We talked at the YM canteen and I walked to the hospital with him and back to Mead House to sleep. He says he was "queasy" - queer and uneasy. So he was queasy , too, but we parted with great assurances - "I love you for (1)-(2)-(3)" he said.

Saturday, February 3, 1945

Had a very nice party indeed at our RC building in the evening for Maj Yeats, who is going to the continent. "Bloxie" was up from Salisbury - I was more or less paired with Col Bartlett, Dusty with Capt Mira, Soph with Maj Brown and Capt Clemm. Delightful Scotch and food - daffodils on the table. Missed Jimmie and called him twice during the evening. Dusty was under the weather so I brought her home about 12.30 and returned to the party. Nice time really.

Called Flt/L Parker in the AM - made a date for Wednesday to explain my change of attitude. Wonder what I'll say?

Friday, February 2

A Western "Opry" at the movies and the boys out en masse. Never had a bigger crowd in the evening. The snow was gone and the evening sky was Spring. Jimmie stood outside the door with me and talked for an hour - then later an hour and a half in the mess over coffee. Each time is more wonderful. But he's taking away the feeling that I'm in England. It's back to Delaware County, Ohio - I'm 16 - he's back from college for Spring vacation. How can such things be?

Wednesday, January 31, 1945

Went to the Detachment Dance with Jimmie - later to the mess for coffee with him where we met Leo and the boys. F/Lt John Parker was waiting at the club for me all evening but of course I had no way of knowing that until I got home and found very disapproving superiors - J. and I must be very careful to avoid being talked about as "going together." Separation for any reason is unthinkable. We are building up a scheme of diverting people from the main issue, which we call the Red Herring Dept. Red Herrings are other dates, other apparent interests which might lead people to think I'm not very interested in Jimmie, and vice-versa. We just move around in a daze as it is - look at each other and smile - can't believe we're so much alike, but know it's true. Except for MUSIC. Those slender, childish fingers with their sensitive pads are so highly skilled and so perfectly obedient to a volatile mind, it fills me with awe.

Monday, January 29, 1945

Day off - Tea at Mrs. Gray's in Cecily Hill. Although it was Monday and my precious day off, I called at a few wards, shooting the breeze with the lads, and took a mirror to one. Shopped in the PM - went shopping for stove lid lifters, films, tobacco for J., and music paper for him. Wound up at Cecily Hill for tea at the Gray's - very quiet and sweet with their three beautiful children, Phillip, Antony, and a most stage-child daughter. It was snowing heavily when I came out - walked to the hospital all alone and arrived at the hut covered with snow. J. back from the country with the entertainers - we talked until they were through in the wards - then went in the ambulance with them back to Malmsbury. The first time we've ever been so alone - on the return trip. It was as new as my new found love. Later coffee again and radio gossip with Leo. Floundering in the snow at last - as usual in gales of laughter - I'm still dreaming...

(pictured: View from Hut 110, Christmas Eve 1944)

Sunday, January 28, 1945

Office in the AM early. Jimmie came and had coffee with me there while I wrapped Purple Hearts. Talked to a father in Scotland, and later got his son to talk to him on the phone. In the PM all sorts of requests. J. in the office for a while. I went to the hut for a while to have tea with Olive and Sally who were down from Birmingham. Jimmie came to the bingo game at the Rec Hall and we talked madly for 2-1/2 hours. The boys were awfully funny tonight. One came in on crutches with his pants falling off. Didn't know whether to replace them or ignore it! J. and I stayed in the mess and had coffee, and then I took him to rehab where he's billeted. We are in the middle of something so terrific that it scares us both. I didn't know it was possible to be a mental twin - I don't see how we can ever separate! (pictured: Red Cross office from Rec Hall)

Saturday, January 27, 1945

The Flight "Leftenant" back from Bruselles with perfume, nail polish, powder for me. Because of my Magnificent Obsession F/Lt Parker is no longer anyone but a nice, sweet Britisher. At the club Jimmie did his usual gorgeous piano work and passed the odd moments with the little blonde entertainer left over from the Rec Hall show. I was so occupied with my Jimmie that all my thoughts were there, and it was perfectly obvious to John, who said I was very charming but no longer his girl. Hard to explain really. Shall have to do it though. The Colonel says my radio shows are all right -

In the PM took bunnies to the wards to make, and told a psycho case how to learn to read music. Very interesting day -

Friday, January 26, 1945

I was standing in the Rec Hall at the movies talking to some lads when Jimmie's voice came over the PA system. It was a thrill - fortunately the movie film got twisted and nobody could fix it, so we had shorts and I heard most of his palereo - Big Time - mellow. I knew he was excited, especially after I called and they wouldn't let me talk to him, because of something. I said, "Listen, I've got through to Bob Hope without this much trouble". He kept sending me little messages in his requests - and referring to our Red Cross foolishness earlier in the day and once said, in explaining the atmosphere in the studio, that "great crowds" were there, " so you see how it is, children." That was me. We went to tea at the Manse, at Major and Mrs. Dugale's, in a taxi - snow on the pines and the Cathedral framed in the window, and everyone loving Jimmie for his sweet talk and fingers making such fairy sounds. Played Clair de Lune for me. A concert later at the Rec Hall. Terrible not to be able to talk. But later at the mess.

Thursday, January 25, 1945

Up at 5:45 after Rachel's terrific coal hoisting crashed into my troubled sleep. Made a cup of Nescafe while waiting to see if the stove would melt under the load of coal she had put into it. I can tell by looking over these pages that I am without grace or humor...yet when Jimmie leans up against a wall to laugh at me - I know that the joy is there and needs only to be evoked. Very curious Svengali effect. I wish I knew something about it. If I could go home with Jimmie now and spend the rest of my life with him, I know the years would pass like the flash of a V-3. Such small hands - he still looks like an altar boy most of the time (High Church!).

A harrowing day: called J. to say goodbye and gave him this telephone # in case he'd be sent elsewhere. The Colonel had come through! He stays. Met at the Rec Hall at 4 for coffee with the clubmobile. Met at 8 in the Mess Hall for 2 hours of talk.

Wednesday, January 24, 1945

The club opened its new bar - pictures - free beer. When the colloquy started over detaining Jimmie from leaving, I detached myself from the Colonel and the psychiatrist and S. and walked away, my stomach having descended to my shoes. It was apparent that the Colonel had no intention of recalling him to our hospital. S. got in her spade work - said that as long as he isn't going to combat anyway - this hospital should get him before the Replacement Center assigns him somewhere else. The C.O., not knowing an arpeggio from an ant-eater, doesn't know he has anything in the Livingston. S. finally got a promise from somebody to detain Jimmie from leaving until his case can be reconsidered. Asked to be called early so she could check on it. A wonderful machine, the Army. Jimmie got paid his four pounds today. I was off duty tonight so we talked steadily from 6:30 - 9:30 in the Rec Hall. Like music...it stops at 10.

Tuesday, January 23, 1945

Another patient talent show - Dusty was ill so I was on duty alone. People came from nowhere and played guitars and things. Jimmie played "Stardust" for me as one of his numbers regardless of the fact that three piano keys were silent!

He told me before the show that he's ordered out Thursday. We talked and had coffee at the mess, and it suddenly occurred to both of us that it doesn't matter where or when we get together - we are irrevocably a joy to each other, and ever shall be. "Such a small girl to affect me so many different ways" - That's me. Small.

The talent show was a hodge-podge of the worst G.I. taste and talent, but Jimmie, smooth and cool, played like an angel. In spite of the news of his leaving we muddled through very nicely. The Hospital (Center) called for our PA system - so that kept us waiting for an extra hour - the nicest hour!

Monday. January 22, 1945

Day off but worked on the publicity stuff in the AM - went to the English YMCA (Allied Officers' Club) for tea. Shopped for Jimmie's tobacco and cigarets. Sat through two movies in the Rec Hall talking with him. The clock goes very fast when I'm with Jimmie. The most astounding thing that ever happened to me. Much too difficult to explain...but something like finding out you were a twin and separated by a bad fairy since childhood.

The radio show is faster, smoother, as if controlled by a zeitgeist. Jimmie came into the studio before I'd finished so I produced my piece, and apologized to my five listeners, and "to the sixth listener who wanders in by mistake and whom we won't let out because of the noise of the door closing!". He spent the PM in the lounge - while I answered requests and had one of the boys do a pastel portrait of him.

Sunday, January 21, 1945

Went to the office late as it was not "my" Sunday - early. Wrote publicity story rest of day - not much done though, for I asked Jimmy to come over. It was rather wonderful to hear a Sunday PM symphony over the radio at that point. No wonder I didn't get much writing done - all Tschaikovsky - went to the Rec Hall movie with Jimmie in the evening. We talk all during every movie, and never know or have the faintest idea of the plot or who is playing. Informed me that it is spelled Jimmie - so that's it - we walked through the rain for a few minutes after Rach closed the Rec Hall - and I came home and talked with the gals. Perfectly content, in our warm little hut, not to be in Oxford where I'd planned to go with Hamilton Greene. Don't know why he didn't call - he checked out of his hotel in London I learned by phone. So much for that - have to write in the office tomorrow while Phil is at a wedding of a nurse and a corporal here. Don't know how they get to that point, because nurses are forbidden to date enlisted personnel. You file a request and publish the bans two months before you want to get married, and wait for permission.

(pictured: Symphony Hour in the Rec Hall)

Saturday, January 20. 1945

A very exciting day for some reason. Wrote some letters for Col Johnson in the AM - and a snappy script for the AGH. Unfortunately, Jimmy was in the station, and during the nonsense I caught his orb and got the giggles - first time ever muffed a script. Did books and stationery on nine wards in the PM - pulling the book cart over mats and matting until I was fairly frantic. The wheels aren't lined up right. I don't think the men need the book cart, but I suppose the matches and the stationery, and the Red Cross appearance is good. They have plenty to read of the S.S. editions. Got Jim's O.D.s lined up at the tailors so he was sharp at the Officers' Club. If you could have seen the impressions when I proudly escorted my G.I. to the bar for a double Scotch! But his playing later was so smashing that everyone was charmed. Had a mortal struggle with the fireman holding the coal myself, had to keep him from firing during a number! The dope had orders to keep the fires fed - Capt Brown relieved me. Talked to J. for two hours after the dance. (pictured: Officers' Club)

Friday, January 19, 1945

Movies afternoon and evening in the Rec Hall - Jimmy made his debut as a pianist at the 188th yesterday at the Detachment Mess birthday party. Played about 50 minutes - they gathered around later, he said. He'll play tomorrow night at the Officers' Club - fingers crossed for him. We want him to come in to the Detachment but he's ready to be assigned and the rule is that the patients go to a Replacement Pool, and go out from there whether or not their own hospital wants them. He's not going back to combat, so the psychiatrist says - nor home. So some UK detachment will be lucky. Jimmie was at a Red Cross hut somewhere in Germany after two weeks of bombardment, a gun in each hand, obscured by mud, a week's growth of beard, half asleep...somebody handed him a record for the Vic and it was his own arrangement of the piece and the band he did it for. Like Barney finding my chapter on thoroughbreds in the New Hebrides. Two birthday parties - coffee with Jimmie in patients' mess - club later where the medicos were discussing malingerers. Interesting. (pictured: Rec Hall)

Thursday, January 18, 1945

Another day and another doughnut for the boys. Thursday is Club Mobile Day - we don't touch them, but the club gals come and give out twice a week. The ward boys take trays and containers and go to meet them. Very necessary stuff. Got to attend at the premiere of "Rhapsody in Blue" - Oscar Levant a joy. But not so much a joy as Jimmy Livingston who also plays the piano. We went to the PX tonight for my five packs of cigarets and cokes. Almost blown over by the wind and rain, and ran off the walk in the dark. I've become addicted to that guy in his pyjamas and robe, and 120 wpm patter. It's sort of exciting - mentally a blitzkrieg. Haven't felt so spellbound for a very long time. Hope he stays around. Queer thing, that quality of excitement some people have. I wish I knew if it were good or bad. We knock each other out talking, and I haven't laughed so much since taking the veil. We all love him.

Capt E. a pronounced success on the radio. English entertainers in wards tonight. Also an explosion in the vicinity - not like Ohio thunder!

Wednesday, January 17, 1945

It's one AM again - no letters written - nothing accomplished again in the hut. Had a charming letter from Johnny a month old, after his three-weeks old one yesterday. Also a picture Jay had taken on some island.

Did wards this morning and got requests for pinochle cards, letters to be written, magazines, stationery. Delivered nine birthday cakes in the PM. Mrs. Murray accompanied me, and we had coffee and cigarettes with May Fleming's officers and Capt E. at Lt Taylor's birthday party. Ping-pong tournament at night, and Jimmy Livingston practicing piano surrounded by his tent notes. Brought me to the hut where I gave him a box of Kleenex and some fanciful soap - the lads can't buy Kleenex. Jimmy is disturbed and so am I over his future disposition. We want him in the Detachment to build up the band - do arrangements, etc. We want him. He's almost ready for D.I. or the army - but he is no armoured infantryman. This is the army - it's pretty tense at times. Capt E. in with his script for me to read. Goes on as a news analyst tomorrow.

Tuesday, January 16, 1945

No one to show my Red Cross stuff to in London Monday, so I'm to write the whole story and will send it on. Was most amused to get a clipping from the Columbus Dispatch from Dad which had been taken from a letter I wrote Helen C. Seems everyone in town read it. I particularly laughed over the part where I fell asleep in the Allied Officers' Club lounge...I much prefer to edit my material when it's going to newspapers! The picture of Jeanne and me accompanied it. Letters from Durham, Johnny, Faye, Lou G., and a luscious package of glamor from Maria.

The radio program today was "A Big Bowl of Crepes Suzettes" with Jimmy Livingston playing Gershwin, and Lt Joe Snyder from Flora Ill. singing divinely. He sang with the St. Louis Municipal Opera. Jimmie talked to me for about four hours PM and evening about his army and musical history - and how he cracked up under 88's. trench mortars, and much gun fire near Aachen. Bless him - I hope we can keep him here with our band - plans are on foot. Had a rousing Bingo Evening - new patients. Capt E. and I talked until midnight in the club. Ham Greene called me from London during inspection!

WASHINGTON, DEC 9 - (Special to the Dispatch) - A former Columbus girl, Miss Virginia Cooley, now serving with the Red Cross in an Army hospital in England, writes Washington relatives of her attempts to cheer the wounded men and to keep them busy at handicrafts. She's getting ready for the hospital Christmas celebration now.

She is the daughter of W.V. Cooley of Galena, Ohio, and the sister of Col. Kenton Parkes Cooley, formerly stationed at Fort Hayes barracks, now on duty with the infantry in Washington. Miss Cooley was formerly employed as interviewer with the Ohio State Unemployment Service in Columbus and is a graduate of Ohio State University.

"Christmas is the big thing," she writes. "We're cutting cans into stars, saving plexi-glass shavings for snow, making cardboard canes, collecting cellophane from cigarets, etc. The men are so wonderful at helping and of course, it's occupational therapy in a way.

"I gave two or three dozen birthday parties in the wards last month, serving cake, but most of all I like to give them felt fur slippers, and teach them to make things like belts and teddy bears."

Continuing, she tells of the life of a Red Cross worker in England now.

"This has been a typical evening. Worked in the wards delivering books and stationery today. It's been misting and drizzling cold rain all day. I can now take it like a proper English woman. Went to town, dozed from sheer fatigue before the fire at the Allied Officers' Club (British), had dinner with some people at the Red Cross Officers' Club, including a colonel from our neighboring hospital who is doing marvelous plastic surgery there. I was at their dance last night, and had a delightful time. Their club is much more luxurious than ours, since our hospital was only set up last May, and still is undergoing some growing pains.

"Tomorrow morning I'm going on a three-day leave. Shall visit Cardiff, which is said to be a most lively and attractive city. I have so little time away from here I feel I should see as much as possible. I have "attended" on several afternoon tours to nearby places of interest, such as Marlborough College, Gloucester, Broadway, visited cloisters and cathedrals, eaten crumpets, etc., but actually what I need is a good sleep in a private room. We are most congenial but the life of a goldfish has its drawbacks. I am very tired and have to get up at 6:30 tomorrow. These trains are an experience!"

(Photo: Miss Virginia Cooley, now serving with the Red Cross in England, is shown prior to her departure for overseas, with her niece, Mrs. Horace Greeley, of Washington, D.C., both formerly of Columbus. Mrs. Greeley, daughter of Col. and Mrs. Kenton Parkes Cooley of Washington has not seen her husband, Maj. Greeley, formerly of Columbus, for four years. He is a prisoner in the Philippines.)

Monday, January 15, 1945

Day off - spent most of it on the bed, writing. Soph is down in London shopping for us and assured me she is going to peddle my ARC piece to Headquarters. Seems to think I could get a publicity job in London; asked me if I'd stay on here at least four months. Will I? I wouldn't leave for the world...I'm hospital-minded now - and would die of nostalgia. Mail from Dad, Louise, Mabel - cards from Helen and Anne. Had tea in my favorite green short chair at the Mead House - took a Cosmopolitan along to read Paul Gallico's article on Buzz Bombs in London. First complete magazine story I've read for many months. Got some flowers at Dusty's request. Missed dinner. Mailed two packages home with my treasures. Soph arrived from London around 11 PM having met Ham Greene accidentally at Grosvenor House. He was thrilled to see the 188th, and will call me in the AM. In the middle of her recital Rachel, who was a little buzzed, came from the mess with 3 lbs. of purloined steak which she cooked on the spot - we really enjoyed it. Got a handkerchief from Lt Dormond's mother.

(pictured: back: Sophie Schramko, Doris Duston; front: Phyllis Coe, Rachel Garrett, Virginia Cooley)

Saturday, January 13, 1945

Officer patient making toy elephant for Capt. E.

Spent the day in the office, and on wards with music group of entertainers. Always enjoy taking them to the wards for they love to have the diversion, and I've become a regular MC. I threaten to sing myself, which puts them in a receptive, humorous frame of mind for whatever (!) is coming. Had an accordionist, singer, and a "bones" novelty act.

Special Services gave the poor troopers salami sandwiches and coffee afterwards, which was certainly no treat. They expected better, I'm sure. Puffed the Gershwin film on the radio - played "An American in Paris" with program notes.

Spent a couple of hours on trench feet and EENT wards in the eve. Talked with a sweet chap from Minnesota who just arrived and was pleased to murmur with a gal from Ohio. (You fall in love several times daily on this job.) Went to the club with Capt E. who was O.D. and made rounds en route. Failed to get Ham Greene in the Orchard Hotel, London. Mrs. Murray arrived at our party radiant, having left her own where titled guests' rambling bored her. I guessed her black dress a Lanvin model, which pleased her. Bought in Lisbon. Coffee at the mess late with Capt E. and Cols T. & D.

Friday, January 12, 1945

All day in the office - sort of day I don't feel I accomplish anything. Policed the place in the AM with GI help, and tried to help collect an art class for Mrs. Murray in the PM. She is charming and talented, but no interesting material has turned up recently. I cut out some felt elephants for the officers' ward to make. Talked to an officer who is a psychotic - wants to marry his nurse fiance who recently visited him. Nix, says Capt E. to such nonsense!

Capt E. was conducting a Jewish service and couldn't go to Mead House for tea with me. The place was full of British brass, including a general and a Scottish kilt - my heaven, they're dashing! I didn't meet them, but chatted with a British engineer. I know. Had a Rob Roy cocktail at Murray's and back to Mead house with Capt E. for dinner. Hamilton Greene called me from London and asked me to please come down Sunday night - he's going home! Says London is "bloody" but come anyway. I told him I'd call him tomorrow night.

Had two scotches and several beers with Capt E.

(pictured: felt toys made by patients)