Dear Donald, Dear Bennett
Page 9
Bob Haas has gone to camp. I hope it will do him some good. He’s lost about fifteen pounds since Bob Junior died, and looks like hell.
The only other news I can give you from the office is that Jezebel is away until Monday, which leaves me absolutely nobody to potch. On the other hand, I am having lunch Monday with Anne Baxter so I won’t complain.
My love to you, and I hope you will be able to stay with us. Don’t forget the central location: Mama Jacobson on one side and Mama Goldsmith on the other. Yippee!
As ever,
Bennett
Aug. 23, 1943
Dear Bennett—
Thanks for your letter and your invitation to stay at the house. We’re going to stay at the Beekman as all of Pat’s clothes etc. are there and the Goldsmiths are still down in the country. Thursday night would be fine for us. If there’s no show the four of us can dine and sit around and chew the fat. I’m going to try to spend Wednesday night with Bob and Merle and I feel sure that they’ll want to see me as I haven’t spoken to Bob since Bob Jr’s death. I do hope this camp session does him some good. He must look awful if he’s lost fifteen pounds.
There is one thing that you could do for me. Since Goldsmith’s is not really open I’m stuck without a place to have those people in to say good-bye that I think I should see, for Pat’s sake as well as my own. If you could have the enclosed list of people in to your house after dinner Monday night—the 13th—it would save me a helluva lot of trouble. It would be the most ghastly party as such that I could imagine but my good Jewish conscience says that I should at least have a drink with them. And it would save tearful good-byes from my Mother etc. I’d be delighted to pay for it and you could have a caterer in to save wear and tear on the servants. I hate to ask this of you but there’s no one else that I can ask. If you have some other plans made let me know and I’ll ask Mother to do it—but I don’t know how large her place is or whether it’s even settled yet. But, honestly, Bennett, my feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t want to start anything with that bunch of clucks!
Planes have been grounded for two days for inspection so things have been dull around here. It looks as tho we should go overseas around the middle of Oct. but you can never tell.
Congrats on the Readers Digest Deal—you’re a famous and wealthy guy now! Me, I’m broke and chomping at the bit to get this training period over with!
My love to Thrup, Chris—and kiss Jezebel for me.
Love,
Donald
August 25, 1943
Dear Donald:
Of course we’ll have the party for you on Monday night, September 13th. Will you please rush me the addresses of the Feiners, the Kingsleys, Fanny Goldsmith, the Hundleys, Newmans, Hilsons, Harrises, and Edward Pullmans. I suppose I could find most of them in the telephone book, but some of them may still be away for the summer and Pat will know their present addresses at the drop of a hat. I am particularly concerned about where we’ll find Fanny Goldsmith. She called up the other night to say that she was on her way to Pittsburgh to join Bert who, as I am sure you know, is a Captain being trained for AMGOT* (and did you know that AMGOT is the Turkish word for horse manure?).
Also, would you like to have anybody like the Cecil Browns at the party, and would you like me to ask Saxe and Lew? I won’t do anything about this until I hear from you, and Jez will not make a carbon of this letter so Saxe and Lew won’t know anything about it if you think they wouldn’t quite fit into this little grouping.
Don’t forget that we have a foursome date for Thursday night. I won’t get tickets until the last minute because, unless something really good comes along, I think it will be much more fun to linger over the dinner table and have a quiet evening together. I will write to the other people on the list immediately inviting them for about 9:30 or 10. Don’t worry about the details. It will be my great pleasure to attend to them.
Where do you get that stuff about “being broke”? You are making more money every day than you ever dreamed you would have in a lifetime. Of course, there is a slight catch in that you can’t lay your hands on a cent of it, but the thought should at least be gratifying. There was another Navy order last week for about 12,000 Modernlibes, followed by another from the Army today for the same quantity. The Army order also included 500 Gideon, 500 Tokyo, 500 Wisdom of China, and about a dozen other items, several of which have been out of print for about a year. The whole business is becoming sort of ludicrous.
F. Hugh Herbert was in yesterday. He is the author of KISS AND TELL and, as I am sure we told you, we are going to publish his Corliss Archer stories in book form next year. He is just doing a special scenario job for one of the big studios and is being paid $2000.00 a week for it. Since he is now in the 96% bracket, he is keeping out of this 2000 bucks exactly $80.00 every week. This is the guy who was making $150.00 in all just one year ago. What a business!
I just had a drink with Anne Baxter. Since Jezebel has come back from her vacation she has taken to wearing some kind of iron underwear, so I thought it high time that I explored some new territory. (Jezebel is looking annoyed.)
It is still very hot and if I hadn’t had two frozen daiquiris within the past hour, I probably wouldn’t be in such good spirits. It will be great seeing you. The office is on the verge of hysteria. Please let me know exactly when you will arrive and how. If possible, I will meet you with the wartime equivalent of a brass band.
Love,
Bennett
Sept. 17, 1943
Dear Bennett—
I had a most uneventful trip back but a five hour layover in Omaha made me get in at 2-15 in the morning. I saw the CO at eight o’clock and at 10 I was on my way to Gulf Port Miss. in a B24. Remained there overnight and was back here last night. Three days in the air is too much for a man of my tastes. I don’t like flying that much.
We’ve received our mission orders for Oct. 1, but the lot is still fighting for an extension until at least the 15th. I’m to go over with the advance party, the CO, S3, Communications Officer and myself. That means two crack pilots and a nice new ship so that’s agreeable to me, but when we’ll leave, I don’t know. If we don’t get an extension we should go to-day—but that’s set! The Col. has a habit of getting what he’s after so I think he’ll succeed.
Again thanks for your party—Due to Phyllis’ and your kindness and graciousness it was much better than I anticipated. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. And don’t ever worry about anything coming between us. Nothing can and nothing will and that goes for wives, children or mistresses! I was delighted to find you well and contented and going ahead with your writing. It’s good stuff and please don’t get lazy with it again.
My very best to the office gang. I was sorry to leave them all. I’d like to pitch in and work, but I guess I have a full time job on my hands now!
All love,
Donald
Sept. 24/43
Dear Bennett—
… I’ve been out at the Satellite field all week—up at five every morning—that combined with Gulf Port last week has gotten me pretty tired out. There’s an air of expectancy around here now—we are so definitely on the last lap that I’m sure our orders will be changed at the last minute. I expect to be leaving some time in the first week of October with the advance party. I should have some time to get adjusted wherever we’re going before the mob comes in.
News, other than work, is absolutely nonexistent—you might get a phone call from me any day now that I’m on my way to the 21st Wing which is our staging area.
My love to Bob, Phyllis and the whole gang—
Love,
Donald
September 27, 1943
Dear Klopf:
I am delighted to know that we may at least get a chance to talk to you on the phone before you shove off. Make the call if you possibly can!
Don’t be too bearish on that new list. I told you it didn’t sound like much on paper, but there is gold in those hills. A
couple of them are going to come through in a big way, I am sure. Furthermore, Quent Reynolds just blew in with three-quarters of a new manuscript, which is what we boys call gelt in the bank. And Elliot wrote us the title of his new Homer Evans story. He is calling it MURDER HE SAYS. I think it’s a pip. Furthermore, I just sold Twentieth Century-Fox a thousand copies of the BOMC JANE EYRE at a net cash profit to Random House of 506 bucks. You and Pat can have a champagne supper at least on your share of that downright gift.
Thrup and I spent the weekend with the Schermans, where two chairs collapsed under me, Harry ripped his best pair of pants on a protruding nail in the living room, and Bernadine discovered on Sunday morning that there weren’t any eggs in the house. Major Bill Walling was also in attendance. He is leaving tomorrow for Orlando, and expects to be overseas inside of two weeks. I never saw anything go so fast. He is in the Intelligence branch of the Air Corps and is working on some secret scheme that he himself devised which will take him clean around the world, he figures, in the next three months.
Business continues wonderful. Everything is smooth as silk except that God damn girdle of Jezebel’s. I expect to lick this situation before Christmas.
My love,
Bennett
October 18, 1943
Dear Donald:
I have just received your note of October 14th. You know without my telling you everything I wish for you and how terribly happy I will be to see you back at your old desk again. But I thought I’d write you this note anyhow.
Write as often as you can. All good luck—and my deepest love.
As ever,
Bennett
APO 634-2 POSTMASTER N.Y.C.
OCT. 26, 1943
Dear Bennett—
I’ve been travelling around the countryside the past few days, seeing various and sundry bases and getting a birds eye view of what my job is to be in the near future. It’s a good prospect and I think I’ll have a lot of fun and excitement out of it.
I haven’t yet seen anyone that I know over here, but I hope to get down to London one of these days and see some of the publishing poops altho there are not very many that it would be fun to see.
There’s nothing to do on the Base so I expect to catch up on lots of reading that I’ve missed so far in my life. I’ll be educated if I stay over here long enough. I certainly miss you like the devil, but to-night your bet about my return looks wrong by about a year instead of two years. My love to Thrup and, of course, yourself.
Donald
October 27, 1943
Dear Donald:
Pat called up to tell us that you were safe and happy and well. That news spread around the office faster than a report that the Book-of-the-Month Club had taken another of our books which, incidentally, they haven’t.
Nothing very startling has happened since you shoved off … Chris is well again after a nasty siege of trench mouth and the whole Sales Department is down at KMV [Warehouse] helping to get out freight shipments (so now we are only two weeks behind), and yesterday’s orders for SEE WHAT I MEAN totalled exactly 5770 copies. Isn’t it ridiculous? We could sell 100,000 of this book between now and Christmas—if we could get them in the first place, and if we could ship them in the second. Actually, we may get the total up to about 35,000, which ain’t hay.
I hope you are going to be able to tell us something of what you are up to on the other side. Will you get to London for any weekends? If so, I take it you will see Lynn Farnol, Beddington, Plummer and all the rest. In case you’ve forgotten, the two publishers worth seeing are Jamie Hamilton and Harold Raymond at Chatto & Windus. Give them all my love, please, if you do run into them, and write soon.
I miss you something terrible.
As ever,
Bennett
Nov. 5, 1943
Dear Bennett,
Writing to you from the vast loneliness of the outskirts of Merrie Englande is like thinking of another world. Strange as it may seem my primary interest these days is that we had one helluva lot of bombers over Germany yesterday. To-day, and to-morrow! You lose your sense of proportion around a place like this. I’ve been around at other bases which are now operating and have gotten my kick out of it occasionally. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get down to London if this pace keeps up and I hope to God it keeps up because then we’ll all be home much sooner. If we can really paste those boys while the Russians are doing the real job it won’t last forever! I’m well and happy here—reasonably comfortable in this cold climate—and hungry for news of yourself and of Random House.
Give my very best love to Bob and your Thrup and kiss Pauline for me—but in a gentlemanly way, you bastard, not like that!
Love,
Donald
Nov. 7, 1943
Dear Cerfie—
Thanks for your letter of the 27th. It was grand to hear from you—even the news of See What I Mean was good. I take it from your letter that we actually cannot manufacture the books. The paper supply has really run out and we’re finally faced with the horrible thought of missing a best seller because we couldn’t manufacture. That’s war, my boy—maybe it will still be going big in 1944!
I almost froze my well known balls off last night. It was cold as all get out. The wind was blowing right thru’ the damned Nissen Hut. The blankets seemed insufficient and the damned ack-ack kept me awake. But to-day, since I was ordered to go to church with 4 other officers to represent the AAF on Armistice Day which the churches celebrate to-day!—I was warmed by the hot air of a High Episcopalian minister.
To write of what I am doing is to write of very little. I’m still going around to bases to see what the score is in Intelligence and I’m trying to set up my department against what seems like impossible supply odds. Give me some good WPA workers rather than the labor they have around here. When I really settle down to doing a real job around here I’ll feel much better. But I’m sure we won’t be here forever. The Russians are winning the war for us!
Let me know what’s happening. It’s pretty lonesome around here. My best to Bob. Glad Chris has recovered.
Tell the sales force that if they’re working at KMV it’s the first honest work they’ve done in a long time.
Best love,
Donald
November 17, 1943
Dear Klops:
As Pat will no doubt write you, she went with us last night to see a prevue of Ginger Rogers in LADY IN THE DARK, and passed on the cheering news that the sun was actually shining in Britain and that you seemed to be thoroughly acclimated. Irita Van Doren, Belle Rosenbaum, Merle Haas and Bob and Herbert went to the prevue with us. The whole picture is in technicolor and is very swell, I think. It will make millions. We are selling the reprint rights of the play to World Books, so we’ll get a little bit of the gravy anyhow. Stimulated by the prevue, we then moved on to the PRINCESS O’ROURKE at the Strand, and deposited your bride at the hotel at 2 A.M. She was so exhausted by all these goings-on that she agreed with me on two (2) arguments that came up in the latter part of the evening. Both of us were so astonished that we practically fell out of the taxicab. I must say that she looked very handsome last night.
The September P&L statement came in yesterday and is slightly unbelievable. The net figures for that month just about equal the total amount of your original investment in the Modern Library. For the first five months of the year we have written off the entire Shakespeare project and the entire first five volumes of the Illustrated Modernlibe. The net profit still shows slightly over 300 grand. Mr. Morgenthau must be very pleased with us. That “awful” Fall list that we were moaning about now shows SEE WHAT I MEAN over 30,000, EYELASHES over 45,000, ROSTOV over 13,000, and BRIDGE TO VICTORY over 12,000. The last seems to be building fast. WHERE’S SAMMY got a big puff from Winchell this morning. The advance is about 6000 and the movie sale is brewing with Fox. We get a cut of that. Incidentally, GUADALCANAL DIARY is a big hit in book form. Cartmell has already sold 150,000 copies of the dollar edition, wi
th another 50,000 on press. As you can see, all these figures are so fantastic that they just don’t mean anything any more. Despite all the prosperity, the publishers had their annual meeting yesterday and everybody cried a great deal more than usual. I was so damned bored that I walked out in the middle of Malcolm Johnson’s speech thereby probably disgracing Random House forever and ruining your chances of being elected to the Publishers Lunch Club.
I am crazy to hear as many details as you are allowed to tell us of your activities in England. Write as often as you can and know that we are all missing you like hell and talking about you at a minimum of twenty times a day.
As ever,
Bennett
Nov. 20, 1943
Dear Bennett—
Thanks for your note with the news of Georgie’s assignment to India. I must say that I’m rather jealous of him myself—that’s much nearer what I wanted to do than the Eighth Air Force—but beggars can’t be choosers. My CO arrived here this week and I am now firmly ensconced in his quarters—he, the Operations Officer and I are occupying three bedrooms, a living room and bath—with the usual inadequate heat but much better accommodations than I dared hope for on this side of the Atlantic. I went to school for three days last week and had dinner in London with Lynn Farnol now a Lt. Col. with the 8th Fighter Command Hq. He seems reasonably happy with his job—very happy with his promotion which completely wipes out the business of the phoney arrows. We dined together and sat around the Savoy Bar until 10-30 when we both went home. Saw Harold Raymond at Chatto—the next morning—no good books from them—he complains of a big bank balance and no books—spoke to Jamie [Hamilton, publisher] who was at the Ministry of Information but won’t see him till I get down again. Met George Jones of Harpers, remember? who is a Lt. Col. at 8th Bomber Command—I guess I’m just a schlemiel but for some strange reason I don’t envy those fellows at Hq. I like working right here in the Group with the crews themselves. I guess maybe I’m not ambitious, but I get more satisfaction out of helping some dumb flier than I would out of planning things in a higher echelon. So I guess this is where I’ll stay!