Dear John

Dear Mr.  Pleasant                      

GO JUMP IN A LAKE !

Miss Smith

 

October 7, 1943

“Oh Johnnie.  He’s such a swell kid!” 

If my memory serves me correctly, that’s exactly how my friend Marlene described her boyfriend’s army buddy, John.  A real sweet guy. Shy too.  And very lonely.  Would I like to write to him so that he would get some mail when mail call rolled around,  have a little serving of “ home”, and pretend a nice girl was waiting for him when this darn war was over?

Call me a romantic fool, but yes, I said I’d write to him.  My first letter, written the day Marlene asked me to be PFC John W.  Pleasant’s pen pal, was cheerful and interesting. I wrote a little about myself, and I asked him some questions about himself too.  Just a nice, friendly letter.

 

November 19, 1943

His response was cordial enough.  For the first sentence or two.  And then, holy smokes!  He’d obviously been listening to too many Betty Hutton songs.   It took me a minute to realize what he was saying, and then I blushed.  My ears felt like they were on fire, and the back of my neck was hot enough to boil water.    Thank goodness my mother didn’t see me!  She’d have sent me straight to bed thinking I had suddenly come down with a grade A case of Scarlett fever.

The nerve!  Why I barely know this boy.  And  I certainly will not be sending him a picture of my “gams,” or any other part of me.  Except that I guess I did send him a piece of my mind. Told him to jump in that lake.  Hopefully it will cool him off.

What a wolf! I’m still blushing!

He’ll just have to find himself another pen pal/pin up.  Because it sure isn’t going to be me.

 

January 29, 1944

All is forgiven.  John got my letter, and got the message, and he is truly sorry.  He explained that he could tell from my beautiful handwriting that I must be a very pretty girl, and he forgot his manners.

 

February 1, 1944

I wrote John another friendly letter and inquired after his health, asked him if army food is any good, wondered if he’d like me to send some cookies…

 

March 14, 1944

I can’t believe it!  Talk about fresh.  John’s dunking in the metaphorical  lake seems to have had no effect on him at all.  He said “Send YOURSELF, cookie!” And then he  signed  his letter  Wink, wink, woof, woof, woof!”  That’s it.  I have really had enough of him this time.  I’m not some “Victory girl” chasing after every serviceman I meet.   In fact,  I’m not even going to respond.

 

May 3, 1944

Another letter from John today, and I barely cared enough to read it-but I opened it anyway.  It was a nice letter this time.  He apologized for his previous behavior, and for the first time I could sense  fear in his writing.  There has been a lot of talk about the upcoming invasion, and John will be in the thick of the fighting when it happens.  He also told a funny joke he’d heard from a fellow soldier. (What does a German pilot eat for breakfast?  Luftwaffles)   But then back to business as usual when he signed off with “Send me some sugar, Sugar!”  It didn’t bother me so much this time.

 

June 21, 1944

D-day was two weeks ago.  I haven’t heard anything from John.

So I sent him this letter.   I had to do something.

“Hey good lookin’, what’s cookin’?  (Corny, I know)  I am going crazy here-yes for you.  Please write and tell me you are ok.  My legs, and I, miss you!

XOXOXO Vera

(My mother would have had heart failure!)

 

September 10, 1944

Finally, a letter.

My darling Vera,

Home in a few days.  I have lots to tell you.

Will you jump in that lake with me?  I hear the water is fine…

Love, Johnnie

**********************************************************

After the war ended in 1945, John and Vera got married.  They recently celebrated their  66th wedding anniversary.  He’s still waiting for that picture of her legs though.

 

 

MURDER HE SAYS

(Sung by Betty Hutton in 1943 for Armed Forces Radio)

Finally found a fella
Almost completely divine
But his vocabulary
Is killing this romance of mine
We get into an intimate situation
And then begins this character's conversation
He says, murder, he says
Every time we kiss
He says, murder, he says
At a time like this
He says, murder, he says
Is that the language of love?
He says, solid, he says
Takes me in his arms
And says, solid, he says
Meaning all my charms
He says, solid, he says
Is that the language of love?
He says, chick chick
You torture me
Zoom, are we livin?
I'm thinkin of leaving him flat
He says, dig dig the jumps
The old ticker is giving
He can talk plainer than that
He says, murder, he says
Every time we kiss
He says, murder, he says
Keep it up like this
He says, murder, he says
In that impossible tone
We'll bring on nobody's murder
But his own
He says, jackson, he says
And my name's marie
He says, jackson, he says
Shoot the snoot for me
He says, jackson, he says
Is that the language of love?
He says, mmmhmm
When he likes my hat
He says, tsk tsk tsk
What the heck is that?
He says, woo hoo! he says
Is that the language of love?
He says hep hep with helium
Now babe, we're cookin
Another expression's too ill
He says, we're in the groove
And the groove is good lookin
Sounds like his uppers don't fit!
He says, murder, he says
Every time we kiss
He says, murder, he says
Keep it up like this
In that, murder, he says
In that impossible tone
We'll bring on nobody's murder
But his own