Thursday, March 29, 1945

Spent the day writing letters on wards. - saw Capt. Eschelbacher do a skin grafting job, minor operation he invited me to watch. The boy was smiling and non-chalant. Capt. E is a remarkably fine, sweet person - the only doctor I really like personally. I can always depend on him to be around to talk to at my infrequent Club visits. His patients rely utterly on him.

Jack called from the 10th Reinforcement Pool at 8.40 - said he was going to ask for a pass to come back, the idiot. Travel is restricted until next week so we may not get together, though I'll try to go to Birmingham Sunday night if he's able to meet me. I told him I missed him so I wanted to resign and follow his camp - it's all right with him! He said he was in the Birmingham RR station, and when he heard my voice he started to breathe with considerable difficulty...how wonderful to affect a cool, self-sufficient man like that! Wonder if it will last. I wrote him a letter that will please him. I laughed through half the conversation as usual. What a guy!

Wednesday, March 28, 1945

Wrote letters for Godalchek (paralyzed arm and cast on the other)and for Thibido who's blind - shrapnel entered right eye destroying it leaving nerve gone - is easy and cheerful. Very young, easy to talk to - tried to make him promise not to touch his face and bandage. He must have handcraft.

Took seven birthday cakes, fun as usual. Some boys in my psycho-neurotic ward got hold of liquor last night and came back and tore the ward apart. Got sent to the closed ward. They frightened Bria and Evans, poor things. I played Ave Maria for Bria today on the program - he told me later he heard it. Slept this PM - at least he was quiet. Told me later so haltingly, "You are so kind...thank you...for...everything". Underwood is definitely coming out of his dark blue moods.

Met Jack for dinner - we had a wonderful time as always. He is the kindest, finest person. Wants so much to marry me. Maybe I shall.

(pictured: Jack C. Strong)

Tuesday, March 27, 1945

Back at 9,30 - saw Bria after his cousin came in the office, so good to have him know me, and thank me in whispers for what we had done. He's better, "I must get better" he said. Talked to new patients - tiring, but good and satisfactory. Went to Capt. Hagen's birthday party at the Club. Capt. E's birthday so we had a drink and he reported on home news. Good man.

Lots of good mail - Maria, John, John Keates, Vito, home - Violet Morgan, Mabel, good letter from Durham last week.

Bria recognized my voice on the radio - progress!

(How is my beloved? Will he come back this weekend to open his Christmas boxes? He's now casting director for Special Services. Jack is coming tomorrow - reports for duty Thursday.)

Monday, March 26, 1945

Met Jack at 10 at the Savoy where we had a luxurious corner overlooking Hyde Park. We were so pleased with each other and the view that we could hardly nibble our toast. Went out then and found a fine basement bar where we drank gin all the afternoon and Jack planned our married life. It is rather dangerous fun I suppose. He's perfectly serious - is so sure of us. Somebody told us to go to Gretna Green in Scotland and get married. Fortunately we had tea and sobered a little. Looked for hotel rooms from a cab to no avail - then I went to the hotel where I have been before...buried my heart...we got rooms on the same floor - very nice. I went to dinner at the Berkeley with Jno. Green. Came back and found a note on my pillow, "I love you". We got an early train - Jack very sweet to me - he left me at Swindon.

Sunday, March 25, 1945

Very busy day - called on a lot of wards - took home town papers which is always fun. Sally White visited the wards with me - her first experience. Saw Bria and told him his cousin may come to see him. Took him some comfort articles - treat him like a child, he is so tired and in pain, but he brightens a little and says "Vir -gin-ia". Makes my heart ache, and also swell with maternal solicitude. See progress there.

Jimmie called - gave me a number - very busy. Jack got on the train in Swindon - happy as a drunk. We got to London in no time and went to the Red Cross where he billeted. I got one at 10 Charles and we sat and talked 2-1/2 hours. Told some G.I. we were married - that's how he "rated" me. He's crazy and wonderful to know. A bomb went off at 11.30 - I trembled for Jimmie whom I couldn't reach by phone. It was the church near the Scala Theatre. Another bomb went in half an hour. An alert at 2.30 - Jack had to leave me then.

Saturday, March 24, 1945

Jack arrived after the radio program. Very amusing to see him admitting his state of mind about me. He was always independent - women have never bothered him - even the one he once married. We had a jolly reunion with cafe royales in the office in the evening. He's so much in love he's crazier than ever. We howl with laughter over it - went to a pub and got mixed up with G.I.s - such fun with him. Everybody gathers around...a man's man, a good soldier. Then we went walking in the moonlight and found a farm yard to pause in. Home late and coffee in the mess. Jack wondered if he should take me over his shoulder coming in the gate...I merely wondered if I should walk in with him as he is an "enlisted man". I like that guy, I'm nuts about him!

Found my battle fatigue case - Charles Bria. Was able to get him to talk. Satisfying. He repeated my name - "Vir-gin-ia".

Friday, March 23, 1945

Got up at 4.15 AM to great new patients - 66 - some psycho-neurotics. Most of the men smile and acknowledge your greeting and accept cigarettes and gum. Some are too tired. I was so struck with one face - tortured, painful, unseeing - that I asked Capt. Eschelbecher to find out which ward he was sent to. Will follow up the case.

Jack called again - misses me - coming tomorrow. Good to see him. ARC entertainers on the radio, tiring to take them to the wards, but gratifying when the boys liked them.

Thursday, March 22, 1945

Worked on my psycho-neurotic patient today - the artist - Underwood. He got a haircut to please me and looks better. He's one of those unhappy lost souls, they attach themselves to you - and why not? I personally cut his fingernails, and gave him some nice soap and talcum. He was pleased - has a remarkable talent for illustrating his pain. Several new artists in #22 - Jack's old ward. One is fine. I had coffee tonight and showed the other one his work. Missed Jack.

On the radio talked about Oxford and Phyllis played the accordion. Jack left this AM after we got back at 9.30 - carrying a very heavy barracks bag - he's visiting friends in Swindon. Called me tonight, misses me terribly, "Did I tell you I love you? I love you!". This I have heard from a different voice in the last month. Jimmie hasn't called this week. Jack is sincere, serious. I have a heartache so big and frightening that I simply have to close my mind. Jack has probably saved me from idiocy.

Wednesday, March 21, 1945

Jack came to the door at 9.30 am while I was in robe and PJs - all ready to go with me to Oxford! I flew around, got ready and met him on the square downtown. We had coffee and began our hiking to Oxford 39 miles away. Stopped at three pubs, rode on trucks, all English rides. Arrived at Lechlade, about 1/3 of the way, and took the train. We barely caught it - such fun. We found rooms at the ARC in Oxford - ran across Willard Fairchild in the officers' lounge, and we three walked around the colleges - saw Exeter - Jesus - New - Lincoln - the silence and tranquility of those quadrangles with their ancient turf is beyond telling. Jack and I adored the houses and apartments on the adjacent streets. They all have bright brass door knockers, and are clean and inviting. We had rum at the Mitre bar - and were very merry. Dinner there - took a 5 o'clock train home. We were alone in a dark carriage - delightful business. Jack is in love with me.

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)