July 5, 1944. From Verna to Marvin

A 1944 wartime letter that captures a spirited young woman teasing a hospitalized soldier about his prospects with girls, sharing small-town adventures involving 30-mile bike rides and sympathetic traffic cops, and offering hope that the war might end before he sees combat — all with the kind of affectionate ribbing that makes you wonder what ever happened between Verna and Marvin…..

Wed., July 5, 1944

Dear Marvin:

You poor little boy. I feel so sorry for you. They go & stick you in that hospital. How do you ever expect to keep those girls you met or do they come & visit you? Do you suppose maybe you’ll get a convalescent furlough. I hope not, what am I saying. I mean I hope you did get home. You’re probably just homesick.

Chuck is home now. I suppose you know that. He leaves Friday morning at 2 o’clock. They sure do pick some awful hours to leave.

Marie goes or rather leaves for Pearl Harbor July 17th. Yesterday Jean & I rode over to E. Moline with her on bikes & carried some of her junk. She is packing her Navy locker over there. She stayed there at Johnny’s folks but Jean & I came back home. That’s almost 30 miles, and by the time I got home I felt like I had been riding a bronco horse on a boat on a rough ocean.

The cops at the Moline bridge held up traffic so we could get passed. He grinned at us as we grinned right back at him. Then when we got to John Deere the M.P. there held up the traffic for us. They must have known we were tired.

I’ve been trying to get a suntan but somehow or other I don’t get tan I get red & my nose looks like a cherry but then I always did like red so I guess I can’t complain.

Last night we went on a wiener roast out at Duck Creek Park. We threw wieners in the fire just to hear them pop.

You know what? I think the war is going to be over before you have to go across. I hope, hope, hope.

Did I ever tell you to stop calling me beautiful if I didn’t I’m doing it now.

I have to stop now. I can hardly keep my eyes open and my writing sure looks like it too.

As Ever,
Verna

P.S. You’ll never get above a Pvt. if you’re going to spend all your army life in bed. Tsk tsk – too bad.