My Beard and Mustache Are Coming Right Along

Lt. (j.g.) Gilbert Steingart

U.S.S. Ocelot, F.P.O. San Francisco

Sunday 17 December 1944, 9:45 PM

Dearest Eleanor,

          Another Sunday and all day I've been thinking of you and our girls and wondering what you did.  Don't tell me--Linda went to Sunday School and Norma wanted to go too.  When Linda got back, you all had lunch.  Then the kids played and Norma laid down for a rest--no nap.  Then you went over to Ruth's for dinner and after that returned home and tucked our darlings in.  This is where I should come in and I'm so far away.

          Sweet this has been just another day.  A little work this morning and then a little reading.  After lunch I got everything lined up for Sunday services and so the afternoon went.  After the chaplains left the ship, I showered and read until dinner.  After dinner, Roberts and I played checkers until movie time.

          The movie tonight was screamingly funny.  Cary Grant in "Arsenic and Old Lace."  In many ways I enjoyed it more than the stage show but it would have been so much more enjoyable it I could have held your hand or better still put my arm around you with your head on my shoulder.

          There was no mail again today so by tomorrow there should be a whole sack full, all for me.  My beard and mustache are coming right along.  I do hope I can have a snap taken before they're gone.

          Darling, do you remember you antipathy to whiskers?  I promise I'll come home without.

          When I write Deb and Dave I'll be all caught up on my correspondence, so I know I'll have plenty more in a day or so.

          Good night Honey.  Sunday, as every other day, is not the same without you beside me awake or asleep.

Love,

Gil