Dear Renie,
How are you? Notice anything? I’ve spelt your name correctly, was reading through some of your letters last night and noticed my mistake. I hope you are very well and enjoying life.
I began a letter to you yesterday but didn’t get very far with it, so have started again today. There’s been no mail for two days owing to the fact that now there’s only one aerodrome at Rome, where previously we had two nearer ones, consequently it’s a bit erratic, however if I wait for delivery it may be days before you hear from me, and as I can’t wait that long, am writing today, would have finished the letter I began yesterday had I known mail was so bad. It doesn’t look very cheerful for the winter if the roads become snowed up.
Nothing very exciting to tell you about since my last: I’m still on nights and simply working and sleeping, shall welcome a chance again to get into town, to get away from kitchens for a bit. Last night the film “To have & have not” was shown here, was on duty so missed it, that’s the one you said wasn’t bad, the fellows enjoyed it.
The weather has changed, there’s a boisterous half-gale blowing now. We had a gale warning on Wednesday night, followed by rain and thunder and a terrific gale which hasn’t abated much, tho’ the sun is shining rather weakly now.
I haven’t been ‘up’ very long, am not feeling too bad, apparently more used to these funny hours. Last night was rather busy, I had a cake to make for a patient’s birthday, sometimes we do things like that. Once in Algiers I made one for a chap with no legs and one arm, only 21 who was returning to England, he was very pleased. Tonight shall ice and decorate the top for him. I saw the staff sergeant first now and believe I shall have a busy night with jellies, baked custards etc to make, the sort of night I could do with one of your letters to make me work like six men!
We’ve had no further accidents at night I’m glad to say, things are very quiet, one of the Italian electricians who came for a chat and tea, turned out to be an ex-partisan, we had quite an interesting talk about jerry, and the hospital when he occupied it. These fellows, before disbanded wore green Tyrolean hats and were very common to see, they were very proud of their status and the fact they played in the war, the allies used to contact them with radio and drop supplies at night in the mountains.
About another twenty are going on leave this week, our new C.O. has changed the old leave list and now the names are drawn out of the hat every allocation that comes through, so nobody knows until a few days before who is actually going, that’s about forty in a month now. I may be lucky one of these weeks, the only likelihood of preventing 25 groups and under from not going, is if the limit is raised by a certain time, in which case if not drawn say in 2 or 3 months would not be able to go. At present, everyone with 18 months service overseas has been promised leave by Christmas. “I have me doubts” about this tho’, having heard similar rash promises before.
You really must excuse my writing today Renie, I’m writing on my knee, in this strong wind sitting out in the “garden”. It’s peaceful here anyway and one is far away from the chatter & noise. Just now I saw a very large rabbit trying to break through the fence. Thought it was a dog at first, could have caught it quite easily.
Wish you could see this hospital, you’d like it I think. The gardens are all wild now, with seats everywhere, plenty to choose from to write a letter. This is where the patients used to sit and enjoy the sun. Mussolini did some good for Italy, this is one of his “Societe de Fasciata Nationale” institutions, certainly an excellent place, was used mainly for consumption and lung complaints. There must be an awful lot of those troubles here in peacetime, and probably much more now. They’ll be glad to get them back again I expect; the last place we were at was also for TBs. One of Italy’s biggest places. The gardens there were neater than here, and the nightingales sang all day long. They probably do here too, only June is the end of their season.
I’ve never told you about the south part of Italy have I? Such squalor and poverty, and so many children. We were at Barletta near Bain, on the coast; used to go swimming quite a lot. We miss the sea very much, but oh! The smells and filth! No-one was sorry to come to the cleaner north; the kids down there used to clamber on the canteen fence, begging for cakes, and they were always hungry, you could tell. Once I saw some Italian men, literally fighting, amongst themselves, for a few odd broken biscuits, which were left at a railway station, after the troops had fed. So many things do leave impressions one never forgets.
The Jap war is full of surprises now, isn’t it, doesn’t look like lasting much longer now. There will be such a rush to return home, and inevitably things are going to be in short supply, take houses and furniture and utensils for just one item. Looks like having a bad few years unless people bear it cheerfully. I hate hearing people grumble unnecessarily don’t you?
I’ve enclosed a menu, thought you would be interested, don’t try to follow it, can’t be done on civvy rations! Pretty good isn’t it? They are all of similar standard, means lots of work for us at times.
At night we get lots of ‘scroungers’ in the kitchen, they look in for a ‘cup of tea and a sandwich’. They aren’t supposed to, being a patients’ kitchen only, the company cookhouse is in another building. I usually try to fix them up, perhaps I’m too soft hearted. They say I am (the other cooks), but I always think it’s better to do a good turn if possible. Sometimes, however, I lose patience, especially with chaps who go out to the cafes and come in late smelling of vino, and reeling all over the place. Some, in fact most chaps, are honest and straightforward, but there are some ‘dodgy customers’. I had two in last night, have never lost my temper, but they tempt one very much, especially the lies, fortunately really bad examples of this are rare. When we have a concert, there’s always a supper to prepare afterwards. We had “Harmony Two”, two Italians, soprano and a pianist, they entertained for two solid hours, and were very good. Had made chop chips peas toms: ice-cream jelly, but they couldn’t stop, very unusual for them, so the sisters had chips that night.
At Algiers we had very large parties to cater for, 20 or 30 artists. Our hospital was very big then, and two cooks and an Italian worked at night, one night I dropped 30 gallons of porridge on the floor! When the air-raids were on we worked by candles and pieces of oily string, phew! Don’t want to repeat those days.
There was a company meeting the other day, where everyone suggests improvements etc; they are getting more transport for the evenings to Bologna, Forti and St Marino (the neutral state). Also managing more entertainment. There’s a dance next Tuesday, sisters and civilians invited. I shan’t be there, on duty instead. Surprising the chaps who go about with Italian girls. One sergeant especially, brought her actually into the kitchen the other night. He’s either got wool in his eyes, anyway I think he’s a chump, it only means heartbreak etc: when we leave. Very few ever marry and then it’s a big gamble. I prefer to leave well alone. I don’t think our sisters are very glamorous, taken all round, they usually go for officers, though one or two have married privates, and they are then posted about! We make wedding cakes then!
What are you doing with yourself lately? Any good films, any biking? How’s Auntie Kitty, please give her my love.
I’m looking forward to your letters very much, although I told you not to spend too much of your spare time writing to me, I still hope you write just as much!
Will close now, until Sunday,
Cheerio, lots of luck and good wishes,
Fondest thoughts
Eric
I won’t ever forget to write as long as you want me to.
Please forgive the scrawl
