Here I am at the office this fine, sunny Sunday evening, killing two birds with one stone: I’m working the swing shift and also taking the CQ job for Herb, which means I must stay here all night.
But I don’t want you to feel sorry for me because I’m at the office tonight! It’s probably the best thing that could have happened to me—I need the calm, quiet, restful atmosphere of the Hq. building. Am I ever worn out?—to a frazzle! I’m not used to all this night life, you see. I’ve just finished a very “rough” week. Jayne and I had dates on Monday and Wednesday evenings, I took her and her mother and sister to dinner and the show on my birthday (Friday), and yesterday we were together from noon to past midnight. That makes four nights in one week that I didn’t get to bed until about 2:30 a.m., and I was working late the other nights to boot! Doesn’t sound much like me, does it?
I had a terrible time getting to town Friday night. I couldn’t get a seat on the only bus leaving in the late afternoon, and I was supposed to meet Jayne and her family at 5:45 at the restaurant. I knew that all the reservations and everything had been made, and I almost went crazy trying to figure out how to get there by the proper time. As it turned out, I was half an hour late (fortunately, they waited for me). After missing my regular transportation, it’s a wonder I got in to town that early!
I let Jayne take care of the arrangements for dinner, and I must say that she did a fine job of it. A nice table for four was reserved for us. First we had a soup course, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It was a “thickish” vegetable soup, served with crisp buns. Then came the main course: a large platter with all four of our servings of chicken, potatoes, and various vegetables all laid out and arranged just so—you know, like the pictures in the magazines. The waitress moved this food to our individual dinner plates, and we started eating away. I even talked the waitress out of a glass of milk, my first overseas! Well, the chicken was excellent, as where the mashed potatoes, carrots, asparagus, etc. We had mushrooms, too, but none of us liked them—toadstools, that’s what they are!
The next thing to be brought out was my birthday cake! That was the last thing I expected to get at a restaurant. Jayne’s work again, I discovered. It was a lovely sponge cake which had been soaked in something to make it yellow and pink and give it a fruity, juicy taste, if you follow me. The top of the cake was covered with a thin layer of flavored gelatin, I believe, and on this was written “Many Happy Returns”, as well as other decorations. We finished up with tea and biscuits, of course. Perhaps the most surprising thing of all was this: soon after we started eating our dinner, the little orchestra in the café played “Happy Birthday To You” for me. Our table was on the balcony, and everyone on that floor began looking around to see who was celebrating a birthday. Even if I had not nodded my thanks to the violinist, they all could have seen that I was the lucky one, for I was blushing at having so much fuss made over me (that’s what Jayne said—that I blushed, I mean). That’s the first time anyone (except Mom) has gone to so much trouble over me since I have been in the Army. I’m afraid I liked it! Ha Ha.
Yes, the dinner was simply perfect. All those special things were Jayne’s ideas. Do you wonder that I think a lot of her? Well, she is swell, that is all. The way she planned this dinner reminded me that she is actually twenty-one years old and not the seventeen or eighteen that she looks. When I got her greeting card on the 24th, I realized why she had been so inquisitive about my address a week earlier.
My old friend Jack (the one who broke his wrist, remember?) was at the Carlton Friday night and saw me, but I was in such a daze that I didn’t notice him at the time. The funny thing is that I heard his laugh in the movie later that night and therefore knew he had been to the city. His laugh is very distinctive, and I would recognize it anywhere. The movie at the Ritz was Mrs. Parkington, with Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon. The women liked it, but I decided it was a big flop. Didn’t amount to much that I could see.
After the show it was tea and sandwiches at their place, and finally a truck trip back to camp for me. I guess that’s about enough on the subject of my birthday Friday night.
I had a 48-hour pass for Friday and Saturday. Saturday morning I got up late, cleaned up, and headed back to Belfast. Jayne gets Saturday afternoon off, and we thought it would be fun to visit Bangor, N.I. It is a favorite with civilians and soldiers alike, being a resort town; I had yet to see the place.
I had been hoping for nice weather for this long-planned trip. When I arrived in Belfast, it was not too bad. Half an hour later, when I reached her home, it was pouring! So-o-o-o, we put on raincoats and took a tram to the station, where we caught our train to Bangor. We got off the train a couple of stops ahead of time and walked the rest of the way in, along the coast. It’s beautiful. I took a couple more pictures—hope they come out okay.
I though we might go roller-skating, or to the movies, or some such thing, but she is the walking-est girl I’ve ever met. We hiked all over the vicinity of Bangor: along the beach, on the promenade, back on the hills the other side of town. After dinner at Caproni’s, we strolled over to the park and sat in the sun for more than an hour. Then a couple of more pictures and the train back. There’s no better way to see the country than that! I had a lot of fun.
[letterstohome copyright 2008]