Dearest René,
Thank you very much for all your charming letters lately. What a big mail, and how very nice to receive a letter from you almost every other day. It’s too much, and you must be using all your spare time, and I don’t want you to feel it’s a duty to answer all my mail. You are far busier than I, and although I look forward to your letters very much, and it’s very thoughtful of you, to be so conscientious, please don’t make it a burden, will you René?
You say such a lot of interesting things that I could write all night, but that’s not practicable always, so will answer the main points.
Firstly though, I must say that I’m only leg-pulling about the wobbly table! You write very well, and there’s no need to think you don’t, so don’t take any notice of that!
I’ve not been up long, it’s now 3 o’clock. Harry brought some tea and your letter at 1 o’clock, so I simply had to dress to answer, and besides I promised to write today didn’t I? In any case, whether I heard or not, but of course it makes it much more interesting to have another letter to reply to, the only trouble may be that I shan’t be able to answer all you say, but will see and try.
Incidentally about writing, I always try to get into somewhere quiet, with a table, I find it easier to concentrate, although being outside in the garden is very nice too only I can’t write properly on my knee, don’t know how you managed to write in a bus, perhaps you develop “bus” sense to all the jolting. Women seem to be able to write anywhere tho’, Gwen writes on the counter, in between serving customers, and I had a letter today from a friend of mother, her son is home from Greece, written on her knee in a deck-chair sometime, it’s probably much better than a bench, especially if there’s the sea to inspire one.
You must take me to see Tuckton sometime, it sounds a lovely place, from your very good description, is that another date?
Yes, E.G. Robinson is a very good actor I like him, but he gets in some queer spots. I like Walter Pigeon too, C. Boyer a little, Cary Grant a lot, the chaps in my old unit used to say I was like him, but guess that was before I wore specs: are you like anyone? Have not seen any more films since “The Bombay Gent” not very good, in fact it’s all work and sleep for a fortnight, last night was accident free the first since been on, it was quite an easy night. I had to cut up chips for 180, rotten job, took two hours, clean out a very awkward stove, it was red hot afterwards so not a waste of energy, and make jelly for 200, sounds a lot but it’s simple when one is used to large amounts, there’s also 15 night staff to provide a dinner for, and guards, drivers and “scroungers” coming for tea all night long. It depends mostly how I feel what sort of a dinner I cook for them, the other night feeling energetic, I made: – chips, chops, peas, fried onions, tomatoes au gratin, sauce & pineapple flan! & tea. They don’t often get so good a menu, oh no. Those are rare occasions (Did you say ‘I should think so’!). Though they always have something hot. The fellows say I spoil them, perhaps I do, but after all, why not as we have the stuff to do. One nursing sister, they’re rather particular, said one night that the dinner was ‘lovely’ so I told the orderly the following night to tell her it was a Buchenwald dinner! Some of them are quite decent and do their work thoroughly, but some are not popular at all, they usually only mix with officers, one of the boys had seven days CB for asking one “who do you think you’re talking to?”, so he definitely has strong views about them. It’s surprising how agreeable they can be when ‘scrounging’ for “a little tea, sugar & milk please cook”! Incidents of army life I suppose one could call it.
Our poor Russian patient, the one who has cancer in the throat went mad last night, poor fellow, there’s not much hope for him. There are some very pathetic sights, I’m sure some of the toughest battles are fought on a sick bed, and not at the front.
Gwen apparently has been rather ill recently but appears alright now, dizzy spells she says. Must tell her, she’s always been ‘dying’, she had an ‘op’ about 18 months ago but believe that’s OK now. I’ve never seen much of Shirehampton, you see Gwen was married in ’43, we came abroad in ’42, and I don’t even know her hubby. Gwen must be better now, as her sisters in law’s children are staying over August weekend.
Isn’t it bad about the railways? Conditions are bad I know, who said there is very little sick benefit, but it’s bad that they strike, causes so much confusion, our leave will stop if it comes to a general one. They haven’t waited for the new gov’t to sit even, and they promised to rectify matters in their programme.
Haven’t seen ‘Double Endemnity’, that’s a new one to me, endemic means disease so I guess the type of film, probably one where he has a mental complaint, ‘Fantasia’ was queer too.
Yes I am hoping to join or take up something in the entertainment line for a hobby when I get home again, I’ve a reasonable voice (says he boastfully!) and love to sing. I had hopes of being a fair pianist, but you know what the army is, nowhere to practise much, and all they want is “Hi, Chum, can you swing it” (and I can’t very well) my energies are usually confined to playing the hymns with an effort. I’ve always fancied having one of those small miniature pianos; I’ll have to see about one, if one can afford luxuries after the whole list of expenditures these days.
Oh yes, we often do feel like mixing all the diets together, we now have two Indian cooks, which relieves us of one job at least. With Moslems, you must never touch food with a knife, or meat especially, a thing I did last week, one poor Indian was quite upset, so it’s just as well their own cooks are here now, so different from our English ways.
Sorry to hear you are so tired, I know how that feels, sleepy eyes, and everything too much trouble to do, and I hope when August is over you will be much easier. Your buses sound very much like our trams in Bristol! But ours I think are unique. Perhaps they will modernise both after the war is over.
No, I’ll not get too ‘browned off’, it’s really a very wrong thing to be, tho’ everyone seems to have these spells, like the weather, not always bright and smiling! The chaps have noticed that after getting my mail from you, I do “six men’s work, they say. You can’t keep many secrets in a crowd of fellows, so that’s something good you do by your letters.
The mail is better now, more regular, sometimes it’s very bad, and we all get ‘browned off” then.
I do hope you have a good August weekend, and you take the Sunday off? Thought about you quite a bit, basking on the front, listening to the band. Is it still very hot? Dad says there’s a heat wave on, it’s much cooler here now, we are very thankful to say, too much sun is very exhausting and doesn’t suit us at all, we’ll probably need six or seven blankets in Blighty, and a few rugs, Will warn you when to expect a visit from me so you can start collecting! If it’s February, bliss! Must choose a thick demob suit, my old suits are finished I expect. It will be strange, having to buy one’s clothes, and looking at the prices first, and counting the coupons. Did you discover a suitable dress? Are you tall René, I only just vaguely recall you and apart from your photo don’t know a bit what you are like, would like to see you in your uniform, perhaps I shall if you don’t change your job before I see you.
About my pals, the cooks are on the whole a decent enough crowd, ‘Harry’ from London, very fat, very popular, and very noisy, ‘Ken’, 28, going a little bald (to his annoyance) writing to his ‘jumper’, a girl he hasn’t met, who knitted him a pullover. A couple of Scotsmen, very decent sort, ‘Jack’, my boss, comes from Bath, we are in the same group, and probably go home together, is a chap in a restaurant. An ex footballer from Arsenal, a Welshman, one from Birmingham, one from Yarmouth, and a couple of new chaps I don’t know very well. We all get on very well together, we know each others little ways, and ‘esprit de corps’ is very high, we’ve been together for 3 years now, since the unit was formed in Peebles, Scotland.
My mother has been dead for 3 years on the 17th. It will be sad without her. Dad and Pat manage very well I think, and he writes most regularly and cheerfully.
It’s now 5.30, have been writing all or nearly all the afternoon! And for the moment have run out of ideas, perhaps that’s because of the thought of approaching work, anyhow shan’t have to rush around and write you a “sleepy” letter, am glad I’ve managed this today.
Tell Auntie, that I’m looking forward to her letter, glad she found time to write, expect she is very busy, goodness I don’t remember her at all, a bad thing to say isn’t it.
Well I think that’s about all for today, René, let’s see, probably Thursday, if not when I get up, then some time during the night, in between cooking supper and breakfast, don’t forget about tiring yourself out by writing, I love to hear from you, but please don’t overdo things or neglect anything else will you? As for me, well I seem to have lots more time at present, and will write as often as I can.
Look after yourself,
Love to Auntie,
God bless you,
Fondest thoughts,
Eric,
Tags: Blighty
