No wonder Ruth is tired when writing this letter—church, two movies (that they call “shows”), dinner at someone’s house, and more food later at a restaurant. Here’s the trailer for the second movie:
A transcript follows the letter images:
Jan Feb. 1, 1942.
It’s almost 2:30 & I’m a little tired, but I wouldn’t think of going to bed without first writing to you.
You’ll probably get the letter before this by Air Mail. The reason is because I forgot to mail it this morning. I mailed it about 5 this afternoon. I didn’t want you to miss a letter from me this week, honey. (You’re sweet)
I went to church this morning. Twila was there & wanted me to go home on the bus with her. So I did.
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On the way home we decided we wanted to go to the show this afternoon. We saw “The Man Who Came To Dinner.” It was pretty good. After we got out of the show, Twila asked me to go to her house for supper & then go over to her girl friend’s house. (The girl’s name is Marge Cumisky.) I went to her house for supper. Martha Adams was there & wanted us to go to Young Peoples. We went, but didn’t want to. So this Marge met us downtown at 8:30. We couldn’t think of anything to do, so we went to another show. It
was Greta Garbo & Melvyn Douglas in “Two-faced Woman.” I’m telling you it was the funniest show I’ve seen for ages. We laughed until we were sick. It was rather devilish—you know. Then we went to this Marge’s house & gabbed. Her brother came home & he took us out to Wellington’s to get us something to eat. Then we came home & here I am.
I don’t know why, sweets, but I have the funniest feeling. As I have told you before, I like Twila a lot. And this Marge is
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a lot of fun. But I feel as if I shouldn’t go around with them. I just don’t fit in. Of course, Twila doesn’t have a boy friend & is looking for one. This Marge is engaged to a sailor—has been for a year & a half. She only writes to him 2 or 3 times a month & she goes out with other guys. Isn’t that terrible? I don’t think she should have accepted his ring, do you? You see, honey, I’m altogether different I have a ring, but I write every night & I wouldn’t care
if I never saw another man but you. I love you. I don’t think either one of them can really understand the meaning of that.
Of course, if I refuse to go anyplace with them, they’ll think I don’t like them. But I’m not going to spend a lot of my time with them.
You know, sweetheart, I was just thinking. You write swell letters to me. Do you like mine? It seems that all I do is talk about me. As if no one else existed. But then—myself and you (or vice versa I guess) are
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the only two people I truly understand.
Darling, this seems like a short letter even tho’ it’s the same length as usual. I miss you very much tonight. I wish that by some great miracle the war could be ended very soon & we could be together again. Who knows? It could happen. Well, we’ll see, honey, huh?
I’m afraid I’d better close for tonight. Until tomorrow.
Your future wife
I love you
tongue can tell.