My Dear Bessie (27 page)

11 May 1945

Dearest,

This abolition of unit censorship is a bit of a godsend to us, because now I can write you as often as I feel like it, and say as much or as little as I like.

I have started today a job I am scheduled to be on for the next fortnight with three other chaps. ‘Malarial and Hygiene'. The Hygiene part deals with flies and what not. The Malarial part takes us out in the fields looking for cesspools and stagnant water, which we have to make unsafe for mosquitoes.

I was pleasantly surprised to get the snapshots – the one with the puppies was perhaps the best. Something else to look upon when I am in the dumps, to revive my hopes of early meeting, and to centre my rather idolatrous thoughts upon.

I don't want you to have the miseries. I can tell you one way of dodging them. Don't write so much, so often. You wrote four
letters in five days, lovely, wonderful, warm letters. But you can't really afford the time, and their writing upsets you. Couldn't you settle down to writing me twice a week? I really would prefer it if it helped you to have more settled moments. As you say, you really can't go on like this.

We may be together in the flesh much sooner than we think. Wish away and get a little happiness, don't pine away. I know that the only fact of real value to us is our togetherness. But will you just think of the
facts
that should make us hopeful and happy, compared with our position six months ago?

THEN – We were correspondents.

NOW – We are
confirmed
lovers
.

THEN – Hadn't seen each other for years.

NOW – Saw each other recently.

There is no danger in Europe now. I am in the Signals, not a dangerous job. We can write plenty.

Love,

Chris

14 May 1945

My Darling,

Today, 22, another beautiful letter.

Today I have disinfected the urinals; replaced burnt-out latrine buckets; made and placed under the bowser taps, two drip cans; knocked down a big stone wall in a field; emptied Bert's truck of its load of sand; put out three toilet rolls.

At noon today came a flood of ‘Gen' about impending movements, and I started getting ready to pack. Now the ‘Gen' is still there, but I have not heard anything officially. I do not want to raise your hopes (or sadden you) unnecessarily, but you know the Army. Nothing happens for a long while, then everything all at once. It may be that the time has arrived for me to be fitted into the intricate military pattern designed to crush the Japanese, and that soon I shall be in England again for a short leave (28 days) preparatory to being sent to SEAC.
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In my own mind, I feel that I will go. I do not dread it as I once did, foolishly. The change is due to the fact that I will see you again (and more, much more if it should be), that it is more time passed, and that in 18 months I shall get home finally.

I love you.

Chris

21 June 1945

Dear Bessie,

I decided to inflict pencil on you, and write this on the beach, with bare knees as a table, and the grand sun getting at me. I wish very much that you were here. In England I can't see us getting by ourselves on a beach very much. We must ‘go abroad' one day, where the opportunities are so much more.

I don't think I quite understand the ‘please don't harp on it' appeal in your letter, referring to your weight. Have I distressed you with some earlier comment? It would be a pity if I had. You are foolish to ‘suffer' from women over your size. May I not hold the view that you could be worse off than taking cod liver oil? I said that what you fancied did you good, and if you don't fancy cod liver oil, for goodness' sake chuck the bottle away. I do think you need – all war-weary ‘civvies' need – a stimulant. If you think Sanatogen was useful, you are silly to stop taking it just yet. Surely you don't think I am getting at you, when I express a view that you should look after yourself.

During our MO's lecture yesterday, one chap said, in order to stop VD, why didn't the Army honestly advocate masturbation. MO retorted that they might as well recommend buggery. I felt sorry for the bloke who had asked the question.

I shall be back at Altamura by the time you get this – thirty miles from the sea, not such a good thought as you and I on this beach.

I love you.

Chris

30 June 1945

Dear Bessie,

I enclose a photograph which I have just had taken on the beach at Bari, whereon I am now sitting. The chap with his hand on my behind is Ken Solly, probably the best Socialist in our Section, and quite a decent chap. He is only 22, comes from Reading. Has a reputation for being a ‘binder' – a chronic grumbler, and he certainly can moan.

Frank Sinatra was in Bari yesterday, some of our chaps got in to see him but were not very much impressed. I think he is hardly likely to be popular with males; the chaps that saw him say that one of the songs was ‘Ole Man River'.

I love you.

Chris

Chris on the beach at Bari, 1945

2 July 1945

My Dear Bessie,

It is my ‘all day on' today, so I can only send a very short note. Apart from the fact that I have had little time off, I have had a number of other things to do, including seeing Bert off to his Rome leave, probably not to see him again until he is a civilian and I am returned on leave, in about a year's time. He'll be my Best Man! I think that he will be sent to Ancona (which is further North) on completion of his leave, and there wait about for a month until the time comes for him to embark. Saying ‘Cheerio', exchanging messages, has taken a little while, and of course I have inherited some of his kit. I met him first on July 16th, 1943, at Tripoli, so we have nearly had two years together. It has been very good for me. It has kept in me a certain tenderness of manner which some chaps lose. Being part of a family, we have had that mysterious mutual binding power which is worth more than any money.

Today's mail was also fated to be a bumper one, so that I should get nicely full up with unanswered letters. Mum's letter again made some very pleasing references to you, and showed me that she was thinking of you as a daughter.

One of my washer-up colleagues is a very decent chap (he was one of those I mentioned originally) and I have just discovered that he used to tour the Yorkshire villages during the Spanish war, with projector and film
The Defence of Madrid
. He did it after his day's work, and I think he is a genuine old soul (he's about 36!).
Certainly he is not asleep or putting a halo round Churchill, like so many.

I love you.

Chris

3 July 1945

My dear Bessie,

I am sorry that your Labour Party efforts are such eye-worriers. I used to find that if my eyes ached the rest of me was not so good as well. I am glad you can rise above the poor organisation that probably exists. At least, you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you did more than vote at the 1945 Election. I got my papers yesterday – I will send them to you later on perhaps, although maybe you will have seen them at 161 [Ridgeway Drive]. I like the Liberals' address best of them all. Yes, I have heard of Alderman Reeves. James or Joseph, I believe. He is a Royal Arsenal Cooperative man I think. Probably not too bad a candidate. I'd like the chance to heckle a little – it's an art.

My darling, I think you'd look lovely in a jumper. I much enjoyed your drawings – the fact that you had done them was the important thing. I will not pretend to be an expert on brassieres, but I think I should say I shouldn't adopt one if I were you, unless you
feel it's desirable of itself. Never mind about what you are supposed to do at 30. They'll probably tell me I should put my hair in curlers, next. When I come home I don't suppose your brassiere will last long – nor anything that impedes my meeting you, gets between us.

I shall be glad to read Shaw's ‘Ibsen'. But I think it unwise for you to send it to me out here. If I can discover a copy somewhere, all well and good. All the Shaw one gets generally in Service Club Libraries is
Pygmalion
in Penguin edition.

Don't really resign yourself to twenty months' wait. That is the maximum, if the four years remains. If it is brought down to 3½, I shall be back in August 46; if to 3, then in February 46. And remember that the aim is 3, and that our letters to MPs and the War Office can keep them alive to the fact that we are really human beings and don't regard this separation as a long holiday provided by a kind country. Sometimes I feel quite hopeful about seeing you earlier than 14 months' time, and that we shall certainly be on our honeymoon in August or September of next year. The time will pass. Sometimes slowly, sometimes with a rush. But pass it will, then I shall come to you.

You commence your letter by saying you can't understand why I decry my lack of education and knowledge. Well, I am sorry about that. I feel I could be much more useful to society (whom I like to think I indirectly serve – while remembering I'd ditch it or anything for you) if I had received more than an elementary education, and had I spent my years 16–28 acquiring book knowledge instead of hacking and huckstering around in the Labour Party and ‘Mets'.
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