December 27, 1942

My dearest Carlton,

As I told you in the V letter I wrote Christmas Day, your Christmas letter to me and the rest of the folks was delivered shortly after noon on that day. It was so wonderful to hear from you, and especially so at that time. We were all so pleased, and I especially was thrilled. Thanks, darling, for the letter. And I seem to be receiving all of your mail very well, so far. Yesterday I received a note to your father and mother. So now I have all letters through #5, the Xmas letter. I hope you are getting my letters too. It seems as though the mail should be getting to you all right by now. Your letters #1, 2, and 5 for December have been censored, but nothing cut out. The other 2, #3 and 4 were not opened. Yesterday I phoned your mother, and told her that there was a note enclosed in the letter I had received, and your Dad stopped on his way home last night and picked it up.

Last week, in my long letter, I told you what we were giving to the various folks for Christmas. This time I will tell you what I received. Mother and Father Cook gave me a pretty dust rose chenille bathrobe, and a pretty blue silk nightgown. (You may be interested in knowing that the nightgown does not have a belt or sash.) Your father also gave you and I together a bond for $50.00. It was out to you or to me, as I have had all bonds that I have bought made out, too. Then Grandma Westcott gave you and I each a bond for $25.00. Grandma Cook gave you and I each $5.00, so I will take that $10.00 and buy some defense stamps toward another bond. Aunt Frieda sent me two nice handkerchiefs, and six for you. She enclosed a note in her gift asking me to keep them for you, and to write to you about them. I will put them away with your other handkerchiefs and clothes in the locker up in the attic. My dad gave me some very lovely black doeskin gloves, and a good-looking umbrella, both of which I needed greatly. Aunt Sadie gave me a nice pigskin wallet, with my initials in the corner in gilt. From Sylvia and Verner I received an unusual string of beads, or rather of shells, which he sent from Hawaii. Some of the shells are tiny, with a cluster of five large shells every little ways. They also gave me a nightgown---a balbriggan one like I wear when it is very cold. Florence gave me a good looking blue and white lunch cloth, and Elsie gave me a snack set, with four plates and glasses. It will be just the thing to use for Sunday night lunch either in front of the fireplace in the winter, or out in the yard in the summer. From Roy I got a good-looking handkerchief trimmed with handsome lace. Dorothy, Don, and Bobby gave me a set of bath powder and cologne. Ginger gave me a box a lipstick tissues. And as a surprise, Grandma gave my dad, Auntie, Sylvia, and I each a bill. I don’t know the denomination of my dad’s and Aunt Sadie’s, but Sylvia’s and mine were each $10.00. SO yesterday afternoon, I went overtown, and spent $8.00 of it. I bought a cosmetic case of leather, sort of like the brown leather one your mother has. (You know what I mean, a small case that you can carry yourself, and put in your bottles and cosmetics, and you don’t have to bother with the sticking them in your suitcase, and then wondering all the time if they have spilled or leaked over everything.) It is a nice one, with two bottles, two jars, a mirror, and a waterproof lining, and plenty of space for all odds and ends. And I almost forgot to say that Margaret Mc Laughlin gave me some Revlon nail polish with lipstick to match. Grandma Klock gave me some writing paper in a lovely box. But the grandest and most beautiful gift of all was from my darling husband---that perfectly beautiful bracelet. It is surely the most exquisite and unusual and lovely one I think I have ever seen and everyone who has seen it has admired it so much. I wore it Christmas Day for the first time, but that is all I’ve had a chance to wear it so far. But several people saw it then, and were crazy about it. And, dear, everyone to whom we gave those handkerchiefs are thrilled with them. And both your father and mine were awfully please with theirs, too.

The ear-rings for my birthday are gorgeous also, honey. I wore them for the first time a week ago tonight, the day before my birthday, when I had the little informal party with a few of the girls, and about which I wrote you. I love them, and they go so nicely with my ring. And also that night and Christmas Day I carried one of my pretty silkalon handkerchiefs that you sent me. They are so dainty, and certainly many times superior to the ones we can buy here. I think they are all beautiful, and the ones with my initials are beyond description. I adore the ones you sent me for an anniversary gift, too, my dearest.

As I wrote, Auntie, Sylvia, and I went to midnight service with my dad to Johnson City to the midnight service. I am enclosing the leaflet. The service was very impressive, and enjoyable. It started at 11:30 and wasn’t over until 1:30, because so many people were there, and of course, all but a very few went to communion. Christmas morning, we had breakfast about 9:30, and then opened our presents. Betty and Fran Seeley were here to dinner, which we had at about 2:30.

I thought of you all day Christmas, and wondered how you were spending the day. Were you able to get to church anywhere? I also thought of you on Christmas Eve at 7o’clock, when I knew it was Christmas Day where you were, and I said to you, across the miles, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” And all during the service, too, you were foremost in my mind. It will be the same way on New Year’s Eve, darling. I will be with you in spirit, and will be thinking of the many happy ones we have spent together.

Last night, Auntie and Sylvia and I went to the movies to see Judy Garland in
“Me and My Gal”. It was fairly good. It was supposed to take place at the time of the last war.

On next Tuesday, it will be just 8 months since we parted. I never knew before just how long 8 months could be. I pray each day for your speedy return, as well as for your safety. I miss you so, dearest, and just don’t seem to care about anything. Margaret McLaughlin and her husband have asked me to go out to dinner, and I guess it will be a good thing for me. It may bolster my spirits a bit, and I am sure they will need bolstering.

The blue sweater I wrote you I started sometime ago for myself---remember? Well, it is all done at last. I should have finished it before, but I’m afraid I didn’t work on it as much as I might have. Anyway, Auntie is going to block it for me tomorrow. I don’t suppose you need the sweater I knit for you now, do you? I shouldn’t think you would.

A day or two ago---I guess it was Thursday---a Mrs. Sullivan came to the office. We had written and asked her to call, as we wanted to talk to her about her son who is in the army, and ask her some questions. She said she lived at 52 Moeller St. I thought from what she said that her home must be about the street from Dan Dressler’s, so I said, “Do you know Dan Dressler?” She replied, “Oh yes. My son Maurice was a lot older than Dan and than the rest of the boys around there, but he always liked the younger boys, and they often came to the house to see Maurice.” So I said, “Do you know Carlton Cook?” And, dear, you should have heard her! She thinks you arte the nicest and politest and most thoughtful boy she ever knew. It seems that one day you helped her off the street car when she had some bundles in her hands---you got off first, then turned and helped her---and she has never forgotten it. So when she finally got all through telling me how grand you were, she stopped to take her breath, and said to me, “Do you know him very well?” I replied, “Well, he is my husband.” I wish you could have seen the expression on her face. It was really funny. She said she had heard that you were in the army, and when I wrote to you, to be sure and remember her to you.
My dad said when I wrote to you, to tell you that they had a class of 17 going into Consistory.

I hope you got the second box of Xmas presents I sent you, although the gloves I sent would be too heavy. You said in your letter that you received the box I sent early in October. That box wasn’t your real Christmas box, but just contained a few odds and ends I thought you might be needing. I guess the anniversary gift got lost, and I presume your blouse was on the boat that was sunk. I am now getting another box ready to send. In letter #3, you asked for some soap and coughdrops and tobacco and underwear, so I have most of the things ready to send now. I will go to the store tomorrow and get some underwear, and then send this out. It will probably be mailed Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. I hope you get it all right, and that it doesn’t take too long.

In a former letter, I told you what I got for my birthday. Among other things, I got $16.00 from various sources. I think I will get a dress with part of it, and if anything is left, I will either get shoes or defense stamps. I don’t know how much a dress will cost. I don’t want a fancy dress, but a tailored, light-weight wool, that I can put on either for the movies, or to go out to lunch at noon, or can wear to work regularly if I wish.

I am enclosing a little calendar, as I know you like to have a small one to carry in your pocket to refer to.

I have not heard from Mrs. Moats since that first letter I received from her in the spring before you left, and which you saw. However, I have written to her a couple of times, and sent a Christmas card. And the same with the Purnells. I have written to Dorothy at least three times, and have not heard form her. And I always was careful to put my return address on the letters, so it seems as if they would be returned if she did not get them. I sent her, or rather I sent their whole family, a card, and wrote a note on it. I hope I get some sort of reply.

Oh, honey, did you hear about the man who cut a hole in the middle of his rug, because he wanted to see the floor show?

The folks sent you a box along the middle of October, and if you didn’t get it, let me know, and I will tell you what was in it. For one thing, there were cards from Auntie, Grandma, and my dad, each telling what they were giving you. Of course, I guess you know that Grandma gave you a $25.00 bond, the same as she did last year. Besides writing on the card, she also wrote you a letter telling you of it, I believe.

If you have your camera, please take some pictures of yourself, and get them developed there, if you can. The films you sent me have never arrives---at least, not yet. I think you said there were two rolls.

Sweetheart, I love you with all my heart, and adore you. Each night as I give your picture a good-night kiss, I hope with all my soul that soon it will be you yourself that I can kiss; and in a very, very short time, you will return to me, safe and sound. You are the most wonderful and sweetest husband in the whole world, and I’m so very proud of you, dearest.

Be careful, darling, and take good care of yourself. All my love and kisses to you, my own darling.

Your devoted wife,

Jeanette