Loveliest of all, the magic of this Bungalow shall remain in your heart for all the days of your life..1930s Glamour intermingled with 1940s Homefront Attitude and Style! Hubba, Hubba!
Pin Up Girls Adore Quite The Stir Bungalow!
Quite The Stir Bungalow, Gettysburg, PA
Ahh...you've happened across Quite The Stir Bungalow Blog quite unexpectedly right?
Need a break from rushing full tilt down busy city streets where all eyes are focused on the day ahead and the persons' back in front of them? Transport yourselves into history with overnight accommodations at an historical small town all-American '30s and '40s Bungalow where everyone looks you in the eyes, gives you a hearty fare-thee-well and always knows your name.
Be our guests through this Blog, as we share the attitude and style of the 1930s through the 1940s,and yes...glamour of Quite The Stir Bungalow!
It's that time again,...easy listening pleasure from Bungalow Olde Time Radio courtesy of Quite The Stir Bungalow in Gettysburg, PA!
Things are beginning to get a wee bit suspicious around here...let's call out for some heavy and hard hitting sleuthing! Why, we need, why we need.... the Falcon!
Folks,...here in the North East, good old Gettysburg, PA and beyond....looks like it may be a cold, snowy and icy night for New Years Eve! So why not settle down, oppressed gentlemen and repressed ladies, and experience the ultimate in titanic entertainment? Enjoy an Evening with THE FALCON! A popular radio series of the 1940s!
Folks? I don't know about you, but after radio listening, this Bungalow Gal is so frightened that there may be absolutely NO stopping this knee knocking, heart hammering, thrill of the ride moment!
Whatever shall I do?
Will madness and mayhem never cease?
Looks as though we're left to embrace our fears and in doing so....
Join me for Hot Toddies on the Gettysburg Square on New Years' Eve? Non-Alcoholic of course!
It is the perfect time to pack the 1940s vintage roadster, bring the family, or travel solo and take an evening to visit Gettysburg! Join in the New Year' Eve festivities on the Square!
Never too late to book your reservations for an overnight stay anywhere in Gettysburg!
See you there? Tell them Jolene of Quite The Stir Bungalow sent you!
"All the rich requisites are brought from far: the table from Japan, the tea from China, the sugar from Amazonia, or the West Indies, but that 'Scotia does no such costly tribute bring, only some kettles full of Todian spring.'"Allan Ramsay 1721
I'm fond of saying that the true "Kitsch" of the 1930s and 1940s is well...Earthy!Uninhibited! Robust! Lusty!
The word Kitsch has become a bit synonymous with items, things, people, attributes...and so on...being of poor quality and taste. Some do dispute the total reference to the word... Stop! Was that you? Say what...never ever heard of Kitsch?!
"Well, you're about to hear of Kitsch" says Jolene "if you've the bravery, the temerity, foolhardy disregard of danger, recklessness, and the stomach to follow along with us in a Kitsch Hunt"!
"Kitschy aren't I?"
I thought we could ring in the New Year discovering Kitsch together, Gentle Readers.Byoccasion, and from time to time, let's do go a wandering through the marvelous vintage era of the 1930s and 1940s! Let's take a closer moment to observe trinkets and treasures, and every day items or objets 'd Arte!
Most of the items you'll be catching a rare glimpse of are indeed fond little treasures (or Kitsch) of Quite The Stir Bungalow (yours truly) in Gettysburg, PA. Most items have been recovered from darling, quaint antique shops in or near the historic and lovely 'burg of Gettysburg, PA. However, and Ho! Credit where credit is due, please...road tripping has been a boon in providing other treasures (or Kitsch) from the entire Eastern Seaboard and beyond!
Let's ponder various and sundry items and discern if they're Kitsch, Vintage, Treasure or Koo! And, one more thing...don't hesitate to post us your own treasured photo of vintage 30s and 40s memorabilia for a closer look too! "Now, Now then", she croons...."When posting us, please remember to be stalwart for...What is another man's (or woman's) treasure may not necessarily be yours or ours...but you never know!"
IT'S ALMOST TWILIGHT...TIME FOR THE DRIVE-IN MOVIES?!
Will you indulge me, momentarily... to use sleight of hand, wicked bad convolution and imagery to introduce, co-mingle and interweave the popular Drive-In Theaters of yesteryear together with the concept of good family entertainment and old-fashioned parenting? (Keep in mind, Gentle Readers, that parallels are intended to be drawn, right here, from yesterdays' 1930-40s for use today. Wink!)
Imagery begins now: Imagine (or recall) your typical Saturday evening all American living room of the 1940's. Floral chair, overstuffed couch, drapes, doilies, Life Magazine, four children's bored silly and kinda down in the blue faces? MEET four older wiser eyes of unsuspecting, weary fed up to there, caught in the glare of headlights all American parents.....picture developed yet?
Yes, the unsuspecting Brown parents didn't know then..., but the Brown children (their very own children, no less) were about to relentlessly upset hierarchical family dynamics and pursue its Board Of Directors (their very own parents, again no less), to approve a momentary request of $0.02 per mile as part of an entertainment bid to cover their increasing need for thrills a minute!
Go on now, for you grow inquisitive?
However, it had been a known and established fact to the Brown children, the Board Of Directors (Brown parents) had firmly expressed that the $ .15 initial fee for hiring a babysitter for the howling youngest Brown child or bringing in consultant (aka grandma) for purposes of entertainment, would not change in near foreseeable future. Further, price of a baby sitter at that wage was unacceptable, and particularly more the pity, if the cost of sitter would rise to $.20 in following consecutive days, months and years! The dwindling alternative for babysitting by grandma, was quickly becoming history as she was gaining notoriety among townsfolk for sleeping far too often and too soon after reporting for babysitting duty on the frontlines.
These facts, not unlike today, in combination with a myriad of other problematic issues, known as insurmountable heretofore, resulted in "the Board" not taking into consideration further additional measures or alternatives for entertainment other than those already in existence. Looked bleak for Brown children, then.
Ahhh, but there was the rub Brown parents and Brown children (thank you Shakespeare)....in their pending ever increasing desperate approach, the Brown children had developed another new strategy and campaign as a way and means to weaken, integrate, attract and direct "the Board" to any and all parallels inentertainment ! (How was it then, as today, that children learn bribery and manipulation in a minute and parents take a lifetime to ferret out and master?...Othello-esque homage thrown in for dash there!) Scratch, oops, trouble in all American 1940s' Family Land?! NOT!!!!!Read aloud for booming tunnel effect, the following: Brown Children?The Brown parents, had at long last found the wise affordable family entertainment... the DRIVE-IN THEATERS! So, there, reap ye no more havoc!
Let's talk Drive-In Movies...from the very beginning! Whilst you wait for us to return with the full "news reel", do make haste and headway to the refreshment stand for buttery popcorn, thirst quenching sodas and All-American hot dogs!
Don't forget to attach that window speaker to your fine 1948 Chrysler! Turn the volume up now! Oh, and "The whole family is welcome, regardless of how noisy the children are." Richard Milton Hollingshead, Jr. and heartily endorsed by Jolene, as well, for Blog reading! Hubba!
The era of radio voices wisped into WWII homes with regularity during the 1940s. The Red, White and Blue American family gathered together, with kith and kin, around their living rooms and kitchens to listen to the radio news. GI Joes or Janes and Rosie The Riveter would tune in, when time would allow, by the lights of dingy factory break room or nightly by a comforting radio glow.
Americans listened, intently, as history unfolded a swathe of grandeur or milieu of terror across radio airways. Every man, woman and child of the 1940s was enlightened of sorrow, joy, hope, laughter, tragedy and war. Astounding events that shaped our very lives today were sent to them yesterday. A link to the outside world could be had by simply listening to radio and the confident assuring radio broadcasters of The Greatest Generation.
Humility must always be the portion of any man who receives acclaim earned in blood of his followers and sacrifices of his friends.
General Dwight D. Eisenhower
We are not retreating -- we are advancing in another direction.
General Douglas MacArthur
On the whispered wings of golden silence, I left my vigil at Ema Mims bedside. Ever so tenderly, I closed the door to her familiar, warm bedroom leaving behind the scent of talcom and liniment.
Somewhere from the depths of this gracious old home of my childhood memories, the willing ancient boiler could be heard gently purring whilst sending a swirling brew of warmth through the flooring grates. As I moved forward, at once deeply entrenched in my reveries, I gingerly sidestepped the scattered long loved ancient rugs that lay upon the wooded floor. Their weave unmistakably bore the intricately worn and woven footsteps of Emas' life well loved and lived.
Here too, within this room sheltered from the dark of the night beyond, there was no escaping the sounds of a howling winter storm breathing heavily unto Gettysburg, with a fervor worthy of the horses of the apocalypse. I acutely feared the Gettysburg roads leading both inward and outward to town were closed, most certainly by now. Gettysburg was isolated and on her own.
I lingered a moment beside the small upright blonde piano before pressing onward to the kitchen beyond. There, propped stalwart upon a tediously and delicately embroided runner and amidst dried rose petals, lying haphazardly upon the piano, were the faces of my past and Emas' yesterdays' singing out to me. My eyes alighted, in particular, upon a fading to white sepia picture of Ema and her young sister, Claire. Ema, her back to the cameras' eye was poised, pulling Claire through mountains and mounds of snow in a gay rustic child's sleigh. Ema was dressed in a high collared, fine woolen coat and gloves and a durable knitted and bobbed hat. The household budget would only strain so far for utility and rarely ever vanity and fashion, I had recalled Ema remarking in the past.
Aunt Claire, much younger than Ema, clutched a blanket in her toddlers' stout arms, as she laughingly embraced the cool sting of the winter air and the sluice of snow parting beneath the sled blades. Claire, Ema had said, was a naturally, all precocious child and her smile captured a million hearts in the luminous glow of her exhilaration. These innocents, I thought, tis a blessing that they did not know all that life had held in store for them in their years to come. Claire was spared the knowledge that her young life would be cut short in her blossoming womanhood, more's the pity, for I would have loved to have met this vivacious, adventurous and unyielding woman of Ema Mims recollections.
Absently, moved by unbidden and powerful emotion, with a slow sweeping movement, I reached forward to caress the unyielding glass frame picture of these sisters engaged in the serious business of play.
Emas' words, echoed to me from another treasured day and cherished moments spent together. While she harvested a summer gardens bounty,I ...as ever, watched on in undying devotion and love. It was a brilliantly white sunny day then, as we sat near the smoke bushes in the rear yard. The ever industrious bees could be heard buzzing monotonously amidst the old fashioned cabbage roses. The cloying scents of Bee Balm and Lavender intermingled with the curious, but familiar sound of the occasional whish snap of freshly laundered crisp cotton sheets drying where they hang swirling in the ocassional breeze. This grandeur of setting altogether painted a beautiful memory for me.
And so it began, as always before. Ema Mims and I huddled together in the sheltered comfort and warmth of her bedroom as the winter winds whipped a cresendo of frightening chill and fury upon us. Her porcelain hand rested cooly in my own youthful hand. As I had always done, I sat still upon the vinyled green hassock at her side, while the warm glow of lamp light danced upon her fine silvered hair.
Except for the ticking of the now ancient enameled clock at her bedside and the shifting of logs within the fireplace, the only sound was that of Emas' soft and weakened voice punctuated by the raspiness that age often imbues upon each of us.
Her entire countenance was transformed and her face grew slack as she prepared to answer. She visibly relaxed into repose as she slowly and bit by bit, unwound the gossamer threaded reel of her cherished memories. Those lovely hazel eyes, dimmer now, were yet sequined with gold and the moments of history known uniquely and only unto her...
It seems that I can recall it was so very cold back then, those winters of 1941. I was fourteen, let's see, yes, I was fourteen just that year in August, 1941. The wind that night wasn't unlike this night Jolene. But there was snow, oh my that snow...she rasped. It reached right to the window sills of our out kitchen where mother kept the lard. That old man winter reached into our very soul, it seemed and rattled the bones. And, I can remember now as though it were yesterday. Mother , herself, had done her best to block the windows and doorways from the draft. Of course, I had held the bulk of the weight of those quilts.
Father was gone that winter for quite a spell at a time, what with the war just starting and him headed out to find a job, just any work would do. He'd taken one of the last trains out of Gettysburg in 1941 headed for Baltimore, because we so needed the money to tide us over. I'll remember that the next December, 1942, if I recall correctly yes, yes... it was the last that old train blew out of town. Wasn't easy at all for mother to see him go. It was so hard Jolene, you can't understand the hardships we endured then. We didn't have anything to speak of, the four of us, we were just humbled to have warmth at night and mighty blessed for any dinner of roasted beef and turnips from the cold cellar.
It's so cold, isn't it? Ema began to fret and listlessly fumbled for the natted afghan resting upon her stomach. Gently, I drew the afgan closer to her frail chest. It was a blessing that mother had hung the worn patchwork quilts to keep the draft out and a blessing to have those old quilts too.You remember your Aunt Claire don't you, Jolene? I nodded for I knew well the story, told and retold, but Ema did not notice my gesture, so lost in her reveries she was.
Yes, that December or was it January, Aunt Claire had the croup. Fact was, the whole town was dealing with some ailment or another, it seems. Oh, the chest liniment and Castor oil flew heavy that winter. Wasn't any use to visit the doctor then, Jolene. Unless we were on our death bed or in labor, as mother said, we weren't making any pricey visits to the doctor. So, at fourteen, and with no prospects in sight, or was it fifteen, and Claire seven, we didn't see us going into labor anytime soon then...she smiled that old glorious smile of her youth ... but there were manys the times we were on our death bed, or so we thought.
"Ema Mims? Ever so gently now...steady old gel. It's alright, ... Ema...there, there darling...here take the tissue? Wipe your tears, now?"
"Ema...Ema tell us about your memories? Why not at the beginning, the very beginning... as you feel comfortable dear and as far and as wide as your memory will carry you, darling". There, there now,...it's alright, go on now...".
"What's that? Yes, Ema, I'll hold your hand. Good, good! I'd love to hear of your winters"...first...
Read on gentle readers, of "Ema Mims"...enjoin her in reveries and memories as she shares of life and, particularly her life in the Gettysburg she knew during the 1930s and 1940s! You may just find yourselves enchanted as you enter a world of Emas' , our parents' and grandparents' yesterday.
Soon, very soon, we promise all the world of beauty shall pour forth...and we must make haste for time, memory and fancy is fleeting!
In honor of the first and third loves of my childish youth.
Amidst the plethora of treasures within this Bungalow, there are remarkable mementos and memories from "The Greatest Generation". And, naturally, you will find World War II memorabilia is interspersed in the mix of the bounty too.
Quite unexpectedly, I came upon the most wondrous gift of all, yet this Holiday Season.
How glorious can you imagine anything to be as what was experienced in and of a discovery only last evening? Allowing myself a bit of time to indulge in historical revery, at the Bungalow, I often browse amongst the memorabilia that had left its mark upon history in a large way. This particular night, I alighted upon history in the form of a WWII helmet resting, if possible, both stalwart and at ease upon a camp stool. Held within the heavy dull metal of the helmet, was a stubborn removable lining... which naturally intrigued. With no little difficulty, I was able to wedge the lining of the helmet from it's outer casing of the heavy metal where it had lain silent, for perhaps, years...
The heart skipped a beat or two and began racing as the decal revealed all of the world of glory to me by the glimmer of chandelier light. Gold with blue print, a red keystone and a black swastika on either side of a horses' head (be that the Knight?)
One can only imagine a brave soldier, a stranger, far away from home and longing for family. Engaged in mortal combat for our country, he most certainly may have used this very helmet to rest his weary head before "falling in" early the next morning, for you and I. Godspeed noble, brave, gallant,young, fine fighting men!
Soldiers of and in your youths, sailors of the seas, pilots of the skies, you are encouraged to reminisce, if it so pleases you.
Oh, Give Us A Home Where The Bungalow Roam and the skies are not cloudy all day!
Did I just sing BUNGALOW ROAM? I fear, yes. Oh go on, scoff if you will!
As I wander around this Bungalow, Quite The Stir, right here in Gettysburg, PA and perhaps strain on tip toes reaching upwards whilst lowering the folding attic stair steps or mayhaps adjusting a transom here and sliding a wooden pocket door there...I find myself actually singing these words aloud. In my interaction with magnificent architecture, detailed arts and crafts and pure history, I find the beauty of music. It is my hope that by the time you've arrived at the end of this simplistic tale (and re-read, tweeted, face booked, whistled and woofered), you too will be singing along with us all the praises and beauty of the "Bungalow as she roams"...alongside all of America, and ROBUSTLY too!
It's rather nice to know Quite The Stir didn't make room, or give way to build modern day homes! No sir, the owners of this little Bungalow, past to present, held stalwart in the face of modern progress! How's that for a quotation? "Held Stalwart In The Face Of Modern Progress". Thank you Gettysburg Springs Hotel, thank you Mr. MacPherson, thank you Orin, thank you John Knickerbocker, thank you Edith, thank you Mildred, thank you Robert, thank you Jolene. Me, Jolene, what? Why I'm just a 'lil ole Bungalow enthusiast gal!
Well, 'lil ole Bungalow enthusiast gals have been know to say, "HERE'S A BIG HUGE LARGESS OF TIFF TOFF GUESS WHAT?" I didn't know it before, but after a year and a half of intense research, I now know "These historically preserved Bungalows are HOT PROPERTY" and I'm glad the temptation to resist change roared a bit here at 500 West Middle Street in Gettysburg, PA!
Historically preserved Bungalows are perpetually, being sought after more and more each day by historians, preservationists and enthusiasts of bungalows, arts and crafts and purveyors of the early 20th century!
Enough said, but, only after all that follows, (a jocular and hardy hi ho jab to the ribs on enough said!)
"Whether people are fully conscious of this or not, they actually derive countenance and sustenance from the 'atmosphere' of the things they live in or with. They are rooted in them just as a plant is in the soil in which it is planted." Frank Lloyd Wright.
Frank, (I like to call him Lloyd, but that's personal) "my old compatriot in my dreams of architecture", I finally understand what you meant by that eloquent statement NOW although I'll admit, the meaning alluded me for a while. That statement rallies to remind me of much more as it relates to Quite The Stir Bungalow. Once upon a time, not too long ago someone once hazarded a query of me, "Who, exactly, do you think you are?" I now, unlike then, ponder the question and hestiate not! My response to that evah so bold question is "Well, here is exactly who I think I are...among other adjectives, I am a Bungalow enthusiast!
After a bit of pondering that age old question, we'll give you a positively resounding....Maybe!
Firstly, we'll need to explain what a Bungalow is all about. Secondly, we'll hope to offer up some magnificent historical treasury, trivia and facts about Bungalows, just to reflect upon, that is. Finally, into this wonderful Bungalow mix we'll bring to you, we'll be sure to toss in some most searching and daunting introspective questions you'll be wanting to ask yourselves!
With a few salty phrases bantered about such as "They don't build them like this anymore!", and "You should see the built in ironing board!" you may just have your answer to the question, Could I Be A Bungalow Enthusiast Too?
So, give us a few, will you? ...and we'll return...with a bit more on these "swell" little Bungalows and... while were at it? We'll croon a bit about, our near and dear to the heart, Quite The Stir Bungalow in historical Gettysburg, PA and what we're all about too!
Get your Bungalow Dancing Shoes on now! Please enjoy the Christmas Story while you wait...
We'd be oversimplifying things if we said we'd keep this brief...bah that's pure bunk!
Let's talk Pin-up gals who were so gorgeous they could pop the rivets out of a B-47 Bomber in the line of their indirect fire! These were real beauties, box office queens, cheescake idols and ideals of glamour!
You could've seen these pin-up gals painting the night and day through any number of ways.
From Variety magazine to newspapers, tabloids, and local rags...a painted mast head, er...figure on planes and ships, a quintessential ornament that was pasted over every interested fellas locker and calendars, pictures, movie screens, ...these pin-ups had it going on along with everyone jumping in on the World War II bond drive efforts and photo ops! Hunker down, bunkers away,...incoming Bombshells were legends of iconic beauty and physique and could draw the public attention... boy howdy!
Hollywood industries, radio, television, writers, producers and beauty pagents (there's another story upcoming soon wink, hint, wink)...they grabbed at the chance of molding and sustaining Americas' perception of the glamourous pin-up gals! The public demand for glamour and allure found these pin-ups in celebrity photographs, footage, publicity shots...a hot commodity!
Did you know it's said that empires were founded on the "talents" of pin-up gals, poetry flowed from their inspiration, stories prolifigated at the memory of their dark slash of ruby red lips, gossip scandalous and incessant, followed their lead and movies filmed and movie goers applauded their talents. And, the public and gossips loved them or reviled them!
"A bevy of lovelies from a far, great and wide universe". Jolene
SCREECH....halt....stop....OH-DAD-E-OH ...do you want to hear more? Sure you do...
For all that going on, oh ye iconic of lithe figure, glamourous, long to die for and fight for legs, lips, eyes, silken hair, ... in whatever form fitting attire they donned...verily ideal of glamour be still thy fickle American hearts...these Pin-Up gals were also objects of spoof , parodie and satire. That was good or bad but not necessarily unavoidable (shore n begorren) WHY what with the fact they were... the subjects of motivations, quotations, publications, notifications, adaptations, salutations, adorations, imitations, emulations, inspirations, infatuations, exaggerations, affectations, co-agulations (whoops), impersonations, imaginations, agitations, and adulations!
So, did these "hot properties of stage and screen" beauties emanate, exist or co-mingle of in or from a far, great and wide universe ? Well, here is the scoop...they were the girl next door. As the legend goes, "she was discovered in a drug store" is very true and apt in quite a few instances according to history. Whether found "discovered" by a talent scout, pushed forth by an over anxious mother pushing forty or a father driven to distraction, these gals hailed from every imaginable walk of life.
Mistresses of skill and due dilligence, whatever else, make no mistake that rather than the exception, these women were either or both of fluff and stuff resolve, determination and fortitude! With hard boiled femme fatale glamour that was all business alongside "wildfire determination" , wit and with beauty and raw animal magnitism...they combined to fuel the WWII GI Joes' escapist fortitude necessary, in part, to keep America free!
These women were irresolute and tireless in encouraging and entertaining civilians on the "homefront" and performing for our fighting troops at war overseas! They engaged their " fighting prowess" of pretentious personality and glamour with a great heaping measure of patriotic aid to help encourage Americans and boost morales.
In part, they changed America in infinite ways with the glamour and attitude of their trademark images. They encouraged, enamored, engaged and bolstered America, both men and women, with much that is lovely. These glamourous personnas kept the homefires burning bright on the long and cold, stormy, firey, shrapnel and strafe filled nights for those gallant US forces in the direct line of theatre fire.
Who of these pin-ups did not give voice to the WWII heart?
They were fashion models, consummate professionals, swimmers, actresses, dancers, glamour with a captiol G of revolutionary genre, sophisticated, urbane, blunt, bawdy, or fickle. These star studded vibrant, sulky, sirens of womanhood...revolutionized and paved the way for todays' women. These pin-up gals, these "sometimes" bad gals brought an era of change. These screen siren images of America certainly made headlines in their niche and full measure of fair share as torches of the heart!
Whatever the case and whatever you take away from all of this, these pin-up gals ushered in a renaissance paving the way for much that has since followed for womens' equality.
Yes, "sometimes" bad gals can bring on an era of "good" change, too! Hubba!
Here is a little note of must have commonly shared knowledge from history: Betty Boop, 1930s is the earliest known, first animated, most famous sex symbol!
When Jolene Macks created a group on Dreamers into Doers with the purpose of meeting other members of the site, she wasn't sure what to expect. Three months and 29 members later, a trip to New York City is in the works!
Jolene has enlisted the help of fellow members Rachel Gaffney and Terry Grahl, and the trio is creating a Dreamers into Doers outing that will include a trip to see "The Martha Stewart Show," a tour of the Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia offices, volunteering at a women's shelter, and much more. It should also be noted that Jolene, Rachel, and Terry are making this dream come true with the help of other members of Dreamers into Doers, and we're very grateful to everyone involved.
Want to be a part of this trip?
Join the Group Now
Take Part in the Dreamers' Conversation:
What do you like the most about our website? Tell Us!
Next week, we'll return to our Doer of the Week feature. Let us know why YOU should be a Doer of the Week!
You could paint the town red with your fellow Dreamers!
Quite The Stir Bungalow Enthusiasts and Readers...Care To Join Jolene, Terry or Rachel in a Contribution for a Local Womens' Shelter in NYC?
Actress, singer, dancer and indisputably the number one Pin-Up girl of era-WWII-May we present Betty Grable?! And why the appeal of this Pin-up gal? Oh, yes, somewhere in the dregs of history, it comes to the forefront of ones' mind...the legs! Indescribable legs! And, those legs were insured to the tune of $1,000,000 with Lloyds of London!
We'll be sharing indescribable moments of glamour and glory of the Pin-up gals, the gals that stole a million WWII fighting soldiers' hearts...and soon! Rest assured, America, Ports 'O Call far and wide and our Aussie friends...for along with the glamour of the Pin-Up Gals, we'll pay homage to and remember "the gals", American Sweethearts, Keepers of Home, Hearth and HEART that GI Joe "left behind"!
Hubba, Hubba most fine Bungalow readers...Brace Yourselves!
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