February 13th & 14th, 1943 – No sweeter Valentine…

[Shannan note – Mixed in here and  there among the letters is the odd telegram. These were such an wonderful find for a girl that has had the internet around for about half of her life (I know, I’m dating myself here…) but has a love for “the good ol’ days”. A double post today because the telegram is brief…special, but brief. I mentioned in an earlier post that it really sounds like Gord just adored his mom, and this just helps confirm that. The photo is Gord’s mom, Amy, pulled from the collection of photos I inherited from my Aunt, date unknown.]

:.

February 13th, 1943

Telegram

February 14th, 1943

Dear Mom + Dad,

Just a line to let yous know that I am still okay and having a swell time except it’s awful cold, 10 below last night, about 6 today. We just got thru with supper and the meals are pretty good. I’ve got four boy friends, pretty swell guys. We went down town last night at 7 o’clock and by 10 minutes after we had walked through the whole town 6 times. They have a club there for soldiers and it’s pretty big, and they let the girls go in they can either dance or go to a show, smoke, read and play games. We sleep in till 7 o’clock on Sun, go to church, and then we’re thru for the day. I did all my washing to-day. Did you get my Valentines Greetings yesterday? A card wouldn’t of got there quick enough so I sent it instead. If you have lots of cigarettes don’t be afraid to send them because they’re the only things you run out of down here. My teeth are starting to bother me so going to go to the dentist to-morrow to get them all fixed up and by the time there all fixed up I’ll be home, about March 5th I hope.

It’s a very nice camp here, hot water all the time. Showers, washing machine, the only thing they haven’t got is a radio but they will soon have one of those.

Is Marg being a good girl? Will you ask Marg to ask Gladys, Eddy’s and Kirk’s address so I can send them a line.

Tell Bin that Mr. Price the school teacher is down over here – a first lieutenant (not bad).

Well I can’t think of anything else to say so for now so long.

Your son,
The East End Kid
Gord

Don’t forget to write and send the cigs.

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