Tuesday, March 20, 1945

Drinking my 8th cup of coffee now at 11.00 and planing to catch a ride to Oxford in the AM - hope Jack can get away to go with me. He leaves here tomorrow - 7 day furlough, then a replacement pool ( hated words), then limited service. He has enough shrapnel here and there to keep him out of active combat again. Good man - wounded four days in a row before they got him down as he was applying a tourniquet to a pal. A third man was killed nearby. Was offered a field commission, but his C.O. was wounded at the same time. His account of intrigue in Montevideo is the funniest thing I ever heard. What a good friend - or companion. Or is it even better than that?

(pictured: Sgt. Jack C. Strong)

Monday, March 19, 1945

Again felt the dreadful doubt that Jimmie would come, but it was grand to think about all day. I felt like going to bed in the PM, and Dusty suggested it, so I came to the hut and took a nap. Sure enough at 5.30, Corp. Kingdom came over and said Jimmie was staying in London. Why all this should make me sick, I can't tell. I want him to stay, but the sight of him is so dear to me that it is pure, simple pain to know I won't see him - nor do I believe he has not changed. He doesn't need me now - incredible. Everything I have ever wanted to hear a man say to me Jimmie has said - except one, and that is impossible. Now silence, when even one day's separation used to be intolerable for him. Do people change so quickly? Even Kingdom said, "He plays terrifically, of course he's terrific in other ways!".

God help me, they bombed Marble Arch, and broke the Cumberland windows.

Sunday, March 18, 1945

AM - Played a record to surprise Barney - his wife, Kitty Kallen, singing "I Walk Alone" with Harry James' Orchestra.

Waited for Jimmie - then realized no trains from London till 8.30 - gave up. Jack dashed off suddenly for the weekend to get drunk, I know why. I heard on the radio he was back so I looked him up in Ward 22 and had coffee. He was still mellow - said "You always look lovely to me" - shall miss him, we can talk in this lonely war. I sought out Jack in my misery and stayed while he put on the ward request program. Then we had coffee. He hates to leave me. I shall be lonlier than ever. What an ironic, bitter world. He goes Wednesday.

Served tea to Col. Davenport and Olive (his fiancee) and her cousin, Sally. Sally is a darling girl - the nicest I've met here. She likes Saki, too. Col. Millman was there. How can I help worrying about Jimmie? But I'd go back anytime to be with him. Only it's gone, I know. That wonderful, terrible newness of love and a new world and life, suddenly the way it should be.

(pictured: Sally White from Birmingham)

Sunday, March 18, 1945

Waited for Jimmie - then realized no trains from London till 8.30 - gave up. Jack dashed off suddenly for the wekend to get drunk. I know why. I heard on the radio he was back, so I looked him up in Ward 22 and had coffee. He was still mellow - said "You always look lovely to me" - shall miss him, we can talk to each other in this lonely war.



Served tea to Col. Davenport, Olive (his fiancee), and Sally, her cousin. Sally is a darling girl - the nicest I've met here. She likes Saki, too.

(pictured: Sally White from Birmingham)

Saturday, March 17, 1945

Gave two Bingo parties in wards - orthopedic boys very responsive - you always want them to win! Went to another ward in the evening where I was the guest of honor at a spread - first ward called me back to say their coffee was ready. The boys are so sweet, sometimes your heart aches. They love having a woman bobbing around - emptying their ash trays - also gives them a chance to be gallant.

Went to the club and Fairchild the artist was back for the weekend. Capt. Eschelbacher gave me a pack of Benson & Hedges.

Jimmie called from London at 2.30 this PM - says he'll be here tomorrow - in a foul mood and a hangover - must speak to him about calling me at such times.

(pictured: Sketch of Virginia Cooley, England 1945, by Willard Fairchild)

Friday, March 16, 1945

Phyllis made pancakes for breakfast!!! Woke up feeling too low to speak to anybody. No reason - just awful foreboding that Jimmie wouldn't come. As the day wore on, I felt better, wondering what train the boys would take. Had a good radio show with Jack - delivered four green and white birthday cakes. Showed Mrs. Murray some fascinating drawings of one patient's - surrealistic, powerful, medically inspired things, and she devoted the PM to him. It's times like that in which I feel occasionally useful. Visited with the boys - then heard the saddening news, Jimmie has a 30 day extension on D.S. and won't be here on Monday when the others come. If he calls I'll feel better, and I want him to be in London if he wants to. I can see him there - if he wants to. It's wonderful for him to stay there, and I hope they keep him so he can do his "3 jobs": movies, shows, and band. But I am miserable not seeing him. Jack says he is going to devote all his time to raising my spirits.

Thursday, March 15, 1945

Felt unaccountably light-hearted today. No, that's wrong, good reason: Jimmie is supposed to report back here tomorrow. Rumor is he will stay in London - I want him to - tho every day is long and restless without him. Must get out of here if he goes back.

Taught one of the boys to dance tonight. Jack Strong came up to the library for me and we went to Ward 22 as usual for coffee. Harold Garner, the colored chap there used to sing with the St. Louis Municipal Opera, and now has a head injury which prevents him from getting any chest tones through his throat. Wonderful fellow, adores Jack. He's very smooth and witty, and in a cast from waist down. Fed a patient his supper tonight, arm amputated, other in a cast.

Jack and I went on the air today together - I wrote the best script I've done. Tonight somebody dedicated a song on the air to me - "Sophisticated Lady".

Wednesday, March 14, 1945

Went to the Murray's for dinner - Jack Strong was invited and we had a lovely respite from the hospital. Manhattans, good food, talk. Jack said he relaxed for the first time in a year. Nice fellow - he saves me from going mad with ennui here. He's more bored than I, if possible, having a vagabond nature, and having drifted over most of the USA on all sorts of jobs from wireman to newscaster.

Tony Ronnikers was at the Murray's - the most charming Englishman I've met here - strictly from a Lonsdale play. Mad about New York - Tony's wife is our colonel's friend, heh heh.