A letter from Sylvia with some neat little details about life in 1943, including the fact that she cannot find Alex’s training base on the map she was given (and there is no internet for her to reference). She asks Alex to mention to his sisters that Adrienne could use some warm clothes and she is not comfortable asking, even though they’ve offered. She also writes that she thought her relative would buy Adrienne some clothes, so she’d held off, “but as usual with my relatives it was a mad dream.” I am so curious about all the relationships mentioned in these letters. The strain, the trust, the intimacy, and the discomfort. Sylvia calls her in-laws “Ma” and “Pop” yet feels too anxious to ask for gifts for the baby. She still lives with her parents, her brother wrote to her in lieu of them all, yet her family doesn’t come up much in the letters (only Adrienne) to the point that sometimes I forget she doesn’t live alone with her baby.
Going in chronological order is helpful for me understanding how the family functions. I think about my own diary – written with no audience besides myself in mind – and what details I choose to record and omit. I wonder what silences Alex notices when he reads these letters, and what context he has that allows him to pick up on nuances that I’m missing.









Sylvia to Alex
8PM 9/20/43 Monday night
Darling –
Your letter, divulging the secret of “what keeps up a sailor’s pants” was swell. I’d been wondering what your routine was like, and was perfectly delighted when you told me. Now I feel as if I know what you’re doing at certain times and it makes me feel a little closer. However, I’d also like to know what you do during “drill,” and what you think of calisthenics.
When you told me over the phone that your group had received a few hours of freedom last
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Night for having a nice, clean bunk, I felt that they must all be married men- put in training by their wives. (Guess that you don’t feel so put out about having to wake up at 5:30, as the baby put you into practice.)
The little Cookie was wonderful today. She’s losing her hair – and baby, wouldn’t you be surprised if she turned ou to be a blonde? I’m not sure yet, but the new fuzz of hair that coming out seems to be blonde.
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I can’t wait to see if I’m right or wrong, but I guess that I’ll have to be patient.
The weather here has been pretty cold, especially at night, and this morning Tante Drashe brought the baby 2 long-sleeved shirts and a warm nightgown. Isn’t she wonderful? I bought her another 2 long-sleeved shirts. Although she needs more, I delayed getting them because somehow I felt that Izzy would get them, but as usual with my relatives it was a mad dream. Then I thought that Serena might bring her some, but she didn’t. Don’t suppose she knows what the baby needs.
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Cookie needs some pajamas for those cold nights, the sort that cover her feet and toes, as she kicks the covers off. If you write to Anna or Serena, would you mention this to them ,because I hate like hell to suggest it, even though Serena said to write her whenever I need anything. Dependency doesn’t become me. Asking Sadie and Chrlie for something is what I’ll do only when driven to absolute desperation. And it’s hard for me to go to your family for anything, good as they are. I just can’t stand having to ask anyone – and having to accept charity. So unless they bring it as gifts, I can’t ask.
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Baby, forgive me for writing letters of this sort to you and in this way disturbing you, but I’ve always run to you for help and advice, and page four was a request for same, ever sage.
Besides that, I have more bad news. In my last letter I wrote about visiting you, as my cousin Stanley was going to College. Since then I’ve found that he’s going to College in Rochester! Are you there? Izzy gave me a map and I can’t find Sampson on it. I’m going crazy with disappointment! Please baby, Let me know, where Sampson is.
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Also, Charlie Toff said he goes upstate in his car occasionally, upstate to Syracuse this week. He suggested my riding with him and visiting you, if you’re near there. Are you – and can I?
Hon, you seem to have been gone so long – years! And these seven weeks are going to drag. You speak McCaine and ask him if he needs a good secretary and her daughter. Adrienne and I will run out, if he says yes.
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News on the Home Front (Brooklyn)
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Isn’t that terrific?
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Please answer soon.
Love,
Sylvia
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