January 21
Today’s letter was written 8 days after my mother’s wedding. As I mentioned in my January 13 post, Harry was in the army and they had no idea whether they would see their parents or each other again.
Harry refers to a Ray Ventura song that was very popular in Europe (the actual title is “Tout Va Très Bien Madame la Marquise”– also made into a movie in 1936). Helene mentions the same song in one of her letters from 1941. It seems to be an appropriate anthem for the times they lived in (and perhaps our own?) and for my family’s experience. Why complain about what you have no control over? Make the best of it and use humor to gloss over what otherwise would be painful. Be stoic.
Ray Ventura was a Sephardic/Turkish Jew living in France. Corry Guttstadt said that the band “Ray Ventura and His Collegians” included Turkish Jews and Armenian members. A French friend who is my age said that the song is still sung “when something goes wrong but nobody dares talk about it.”
I am constantly in awe of my family’s fluency in multiple languages. In today’s letter Harry is eloquent, funny, clever, wistful, all in a second language. The quotes and songs are like a secret language between the siblings - no one else they knew had these same references.
New Guinea
January 21, 1945
Dear Eva,
You probably remember the song “Tout Va Bien, Madame la Marquise” (the butler reporting that all’s well – only the dog has the rabies, somebody ran away with the maid, the plumbing busted and the house burned to the ground – tout va bien). That’s the way your casual announcement of your engagement struck me. In the five letters in which you mentioned “my future brother-in-law” you haven’t once told me his name or what he is like. Are you afraid that I’d cross you off my will or transfer my insurance to someone else? I ought to make the SPCA my beneficiary – they fight cruelty to animals, you practice cruelty.
On the other hand, you might not think it my business, which it isn’t, but I think it would be proper to let your only brother know whom you are marrying. One of the few traits we have in common, dear sister, is outward stoicism. (Xantippe with a heart of gold, ha!) Anyway, I want you to tell me all about the lucky man who is going to marry you; I want a whole history in your next letter. Can’t you see me: over here tossing around in my cot at night, worrying over the fate of you, beloved sister? (Sob.)
….
How do you stand in the draft? I haven’t any figures or proof to the contrary to challenge the army’s announcement as to the dire need for nurses, but I do know that nurses in some of the hospitals here are doing jobs that a casual or a limited serviceman could do just as well. For instance, the dental clinic in one of the hospitals employs a nurse who sits in the receiving office typing up dental forms and taking care of records. (That’s her job.) During several visits to the hospitals I watched the nurses work in the wards; they keep records of the patients, make daily rounds, stick thermometers in the patients’ mouths, and maybe give them a back rub occasionally; the dirty work is done by the ward boys. I don’t see why trained nurses are required unless they are needed for surgery. Of course, they may constitute good morale factors; but by Jupiter, I don’t want you to be a morale factor!
If you think you want to do your share of ending the war you can find enough opportunities to put your experiences as a nurse to use to prove your willingness to help. However, confine your patriotic efforts to the home front and stay in the states. I don’t want to see you being shipped somewhere overseas. I have dwelled on this subject several times before and you ought to have a picture of what is going on by now. You also ought to know how serious I am about this. Ugh, I have spoken.
Well, about-to-be-married sister, every good thing comes to an end, and so does my letter. Say hello to all.
Love,
Harry
P.S. Don’t fail to submit me to the “Histoire D’Amour” of Miss Lowell and Mr.??? I want to read all about it.
P.P.S. Ain’t I the one?
Photo of Harry taken in January 1945
Harry talks about the possibility of my mother becoming an army nurse in not very enthusiastic terms. In other letters he discourages her from pursuing such a course, essentially ordering her to stay in the States so one of them would be able to do something to help their parents if the opportunity arose.