My Dear Bessie (26 page)

I love you.

Chris

4 May 1945

My dear Bessie,

Thank you for No. 15, the one in which you referred to the engagement ring idea, received yesterday.

Today I have made a round trip of 60 miles to the nearest town to have my eyes (not my brains) tested, and now have two new pairs of Army spectacles to replace those lost in Greece. The whole business did not take more than 15 minutes.

I think I would like you to say, about the ring, that the money could be more wisely used and that we don't need to conventionally demonstrate our undertakings to the world. We do not need a symbol, and our love is strong. Perhaps you are thanking me for being ‘thoughtful'? I don't know. A point I had in mind was that the Ivy-type of mind might be saying ‘Ah, Chris has been home, but I see that Bessie is still on the shelf.' Or something cheap and silly like that. This para will, I suppose, displease you as much as the original
one pleased you. Isn't it just too easy to put one's foot in it, in correspondence?

Thanks for the account of the Bromley visit. I am glad you feel a little more happy about it now. I know that my Mum will welcome your visits, and I hope you will be encouraged and make them regularly. It is well to bear in mind that families do not like being told they know not the mind of their sons, or I would ask you to tell my Mum that Bert has never said ‘all women are bitches', in any final way, though he might have said it tentatively. My Mother's memory is very good, but you will have to beware of her telling you that I have said such a thing as well. I do not intend to discuss this with Bert, by the way. It is ridiculous to say ‘all men are' this, or ‘all women' that. But, please don't get all pro-woman, for I am not all pro-man. I've seen some of them; and in the quieter moments I have thought a lot (27,000 cases of VD in Italy last year among troops).

I understand that it is snowing in some parts of the UK now. Good luck to you.

I love you, and you respond. Thank goodness for that; thank you for goodness.

I love you.

Chris

6 May 1945

Dear Bessie,

I suppose that everyone at home is feeling happy about the end of the Germans. It is a pity that the Japanese remain to be dealt with, and that so much more suffering has to be endured on that account. I imagine it will be many months before any large number of chaps start discarding khaki for colours of their own choice, but with no blackout, sand-bagged windows, or ARP,
*
things generally should be easier. I imagine that your Foreign Office task will cease, and that most of the wireless stations will close down.

Yesterday evening I met Bert and we saw a film,
Candlelight in Algeria
, John Hall, Carla Lehmann, Enid Stamp Taylor, an account of the events leading to the Allies landing in North Africa. It was tripe, but of the edible variety. Earlier in the week we saw an Italian variety show, ‘Dots and Dinahs', which was competent and clean. I had a special interest in it, because I had spent the morning shifting the piano, and getting the scenes into position, and having a peep behind the scenes, backstage being even dirtier than the ‘stalls'.

I heard a broadcast record by Bevin yesterday, in which he said there would be a short standstill period before chaps started demobilising. Some of our chaps with low numbers are not happy about that! We just listen in, and imagine things to suit our own cases. What is your brother's number? Is he stopping on to help the war effort?

Love.

Chris

8 May 1945

‘The Socialist Party constitutes the most dark and formidable menace with which, now that German militarism has been ousted, British civilisation is now confronted.'

– W.S. Churchill, March 1920

My dear,

I am still in a glum state and I believe that only the news that Japan has surrendered also would be sufficient to un-glum me. I am very thankful that the end of the war in Europe has come at last, and all the terrible things that war involves will now cease there. But I am very conscious that the people generally have suffered much, and I do not believe we are any nearer a decent state of society. On top of all my general mix-up of confused thought and regret is a more acute realisation that we are not together, and the chance of being so is remote. I know that it doesn't make you happy to have me fed-up (and I am that) but I do not feel like a song and a dance just at present. It's grim.

We put up a tent. We take it down. We are told there will in future be no trucks to the village (a quarter of an hour's walk). Today and tomorrow we
must
ride in a truck (because of possible
trouble with celebrations, I suppose). We exhibit our kit daily so that all the dust can blow on it. We must take mepacrine
*
tablets daily. We must have our mosquito nets down by 18.00 hours daily. We must roll our tent walls up by 00.00. We must not perform our ablutions outside our tents. There are many items. Ordinarily you just grin, curse and bear it. At the moment, I am not very happy about such things.

I expect you are left pretty cold by the bomb-free atmosphere of London, although you will understand that it is grand for me to know that now you are safe, that 27 Woolacombe is not likely to fall down on you, that really and actually only natural causes can come along to cut you from me. Does that seem to you as selfish as it sounds to me? I'm sorry.

Thanks for the news of the
Express
Exhibition of the concentration camps. The photos we have had reproduced out here have been pretty horrible, and aroused bad feelings in some of the chaps. Main thing for me is that these horrors went on from 1933–Sept 2nd 1939, without apparent condemnation from our peace-at-any-price leaders. The hanging-up of Mussolini after his death (and all the talk of his mistress, as though we ourselves were so moral) are unpleasant.

We have again been reminded we mustn't get drunk. Chaps are getting 1½ bottles of beer this week. I was going to have mine just now, but remembered I had already promised it a bloke. It is horrible stuff (light ale) I'm told. This week, has gone up 3d. In the nearby town, cakes and tea were free today. There are to be certain ‘planned modifications' for us. We shall get half-an-hour extra
in bed (and start work at 8.30) and get 12.30–2.30 off for dinner, instead of 12.30–2, as formerly.

Sorry to be such a cheering influence, my girl, but you know how it is. I'll send you a page of jokes one day. We get tomorrow off, I'll try to force a smile then.

I love you.

Chris

9 May 1945

My dear Bessie,

I will try hard to be merry and bright – though don't be deceived, I am not feeling so good.

I finished off my last letter in the canteen, surrounded by ale and vermouth imbibers. We had a sing-song, and I joined in a few of the songs. It was not easy to get ‘order' for the King at 9 p.m., but I was near the wireless and heard all he said. What an ordeal for him it is every time, and how, of recent years, he has become adept at just avoiding a wrong word. I bet he is glad it is over. I thought there might have been greater mention of his Allies in the struggle, but otherwise it was a reasonable effort. If only everyone would recall that we are at peace in Europe only because of the death and mutilation of literally millions of our
fellow countrymen (and women) and of our fellow world citizens. Yet, if ‘private enterprise' had its way, the air raid shelters that are being dismantled in England would be sold at a handsome profit to Japan. They will need them alright.

The truck back to camp left at 10 p.m., and what a ride it was – short maybe – swaying all over the road, narrowly dodging pedestrians, carts, dogs, crazily turning corners. I was in the front and could see all sorts of things happening … so when the singing happy crowd stopped at a casa (house) for a ‘final drink', I quietly and un-bravely dismounted and walked safely down the lane to the camp, while behind me about ten blokes banged on the front door and yelled ‘Rosa!' to open up. Rosa must have been more discreet than avaricious, for I learned later they had banged in vain and come home drinkless. This morning officers and sergeants came round to our tents and served us with coffee and brandy (I gave my brandy to a Scotsman) in bed, as is the custom on Christmas Day, and today is being similarly celebrated. Tonight we are having a special dinner and this also will be served by the officers. I think I have told you I wonder and envy the chaps who can free-wheel alcoholically along.

Regarding spring cleaning: you ask what do I know about house cleaning? Why just
house
cleaning? I bet I have done more cleaning and sweeping in the Army than you have done in your life so far, although it might not have been done so carefully. Remember the first qualification of a soldier is his ability to be a domestic servant.

Do
you
have a specially good bath in the Spring, by the way, or do
you
get yourself as clean as you can every time you bathe? I
wonder if next Spring we shall be doing the Cleaning together? I hope so. I hope we shall both be really living, really living together by then.

I LOVE YOU.

Chris