My Dear Bessie (41 page)

The break-up of the unit is proceeding and I should get a move before long. Strange how men behave. I have just heard that
on the February leave one of our men did not go home till 8 p.m., as he suspected his wife. When he arrived home, she had a one-year-old in her arms. He patched it up, but my informant has now heard, rather enigmatically, that ‘George Jenkin's wife has done it on him again'. ‘George', by the way, was one of the worst chaps I've known for being unfaithful.

I like all that you say about our need in the future to avoid becoming suburban married ‘types'. I think we have between us a good deal of commonsense, and that we really will succeed in retaining all the good parts of our earlier approaches to life. I am, therefore, very pleased you support my view on overtime, because there's no doubt to my mind that most people are much too keen to get money, forgetting that its pursuit interferes with the joy of life.

So you reckon it was the first time when ‘it happened', do you? I don't remember the day, does the doctor ask, or do you have to tell him approximately?

Eat as well as you can, sleep as much as you can, keep as warm as you can.

I love you.

Chris

9 February 1946

Well, My Darling Bessie,

Today was my DAY OFF, and off I went to Naples. I'm too pleased with myself, because tomorrow I shall take to the APO [Army Post Office] – a carpet! It cost 2,100 lira (£2 7s. 0d.), is a little smaller than a hearthrug, and will just do you for putting your beautiful feet upon when you get out of bed in the morning. Your beautiful feet – ah, my beautiful darling, wonder-one, I wish I could put my lips to them
now
. I love them, and every bit of you. You will be in a state of suspense until you get the carpet (registered) but I am quite sure you'll be delighted with my purchase.

I thought while I had a chance, I would have my photograph taken (only 1s. 6d. for the two, now) and it is enclosed. Sorry I am no John Barrymore, my sweet. But at least you can have a good laugh at my tunic, how well it fits me, and you can admire(?) my medal display. I don't wear medals, this was the first time today, as the Ities are inclined to think you are a Rookie if you walk around ‘nude'.

Met a very woebegone Italian in Naples this morning. He had just come back to Italy from Shrewsbury, where he thought things were grand. Please write me plenty about the carpets, etc., when they arrive.

I love you.

Chris

10 February 1946

My Darling Wonderful Wife,

Sunday afternoon. The shining sun. The very blue Bay of Naples scene before me. You in the same world – but miles and miles away.

I can't tell you how pleased I am with my carpet purchase. If I had had the money I should have bought two, but I happened to see it after my other purchases. I have already made up my mind to spend your £3 Postal Orders (when they arrive and unless you earmarked them for something else) on a carpet.

Could you try and discover the kind of electric current we are on? I believe the voltage varies, and of course there is AC and DC. An enquiry at the showrooms is probably the best way. I was attracted (are you, please?) to an electric coffee pot, 15s. 6d., I saw in Naples. (But it was 150 watt, or something.)

Do you know where the Postman comes from who delivers at OUR HOUSE? I suspect Croydon.

I beg to report that I have just looked through your letters to note your colour scheme ideas which I hadn't previously absorbed, as perhaps I should have done. Pink and primrose bedrooms. Rust and beige dining rooms. Don't like blue, rather tired of green. I am sorry that the carpet has a lot of green in it, but anyway I am now warned against a light blue one they had.

I am in a shocking mess: there is such an Eldorado on the old doorstep, I have little money, bags of ambition and no YOU to help. My eyes popped out of my head at the sight of
carpets!

I love you.

Chris

11 February 1946

My Darling Beautiful Wonderful and Lovely Wife,

Today came No. 30, to tell of your arrival, and that you are now the mistress of 55 Ellesmere Drive, in Sanderstead, County of Surrey. My very sincere congratulations on all that you have done, leading up to this historic (for us) occupation. You really have achieved something; you are such a refreshing contrast in action to the wibbly-wobbly faint-hearts who wave to opportunity as it passes. Do not trouble to deny your capacity. Do not claim to be the Greatest Wibbly Wobbler of them all. Your protestations of what you call ‘female weakness' laugh at you. My darling wife, how proud I am of you!

I got Bert to address the envelope with my ‘note of welcome', because I had to get him to post it to be sure of arriving in time, and I fancied that my writing on an envelope which had been posted in England would wantonly cause you to think I was there.

I enjoyed your ‘no stove, no current, no fuel' and ‘then they started to turn up'. I hope the coal turned up OK, and that you haven't used up the whole three months' ration (say) in three days. I am glad you met a wonder-workman (I bet he got at least five shillings!), a good man. The electrician seems to have also been helpful. What a thing it is to be an attractive young woman!

I love you.

Chris

Their first home: 55 Ellesmere Drive

15 February 1946

Dearest One,

Today I broke into your three pounds and paid £1 4s. 6d. each for two carpets (brown and mainly red, I thought OK for your pink bedroom idea). I shall await your comments before buying anything further in the carpet line. For £7 10s. I could have purchased a set of three (1 large, 2 small) carpets, pink, of very good quality. This morning (as a result of scrounging in the drawers at the Sergeants' Mess last night) I sent you an electric light switch, bedside pattern. Hope you can utilise it, thought they might be unobtainable in UK.

I shouldn't worry too much about the knitting. I believe one of these South African firms specialises in the provision of all required for a brand new baby. Much can be got out there that isn't easily got in UK.

I love you.

Chris

20 February 1946

My Darling Wife,

I was pleased to read you had someone coming to lay the lino (was it any good?), as I had imagined you wrestling, cobra-like, with it and having a job with it. A pity about the wireless connection, I hope you can get the rooms swopped, or some other arrangement, without too much trouble. It is certainly awkward as it is. Also, I don't like knitting etc. in bed too much as it is usually easy to catch a cold that way.

I am very pleased you received the full 12 tins of tomatoes. I hope to send you more as I get money. I should think you could eat three tins a week very easily. I wonder why the kitchen tiling has to come down, hope you can get it done soon.

Thank you for what you say about never thinking me vulgar. I want you so much (and also I want so much of you, if
you understand that) at times, there are so many things I want to do.

I am very pleased you mentioned your bias against Make Do And Mend Lectures. I'll do what I can to avoid over-painting that particular picture, though now you must keep a careful watch that I don't suggest that leisured ease and unending comfort are your lot!

I read that 70–80,000 of the 300,000 wanting telephones are in the London Area. Although still a luxury, I certainly think it would be potentially very useful to you and that is why I suggested you try to get one. How about writing to SE Area Manager (if it is SE) and quoting your condition as a reason for priority?

I love you.

Chris

2 March 1946

My Dearest,

Today I have acquired a pail (enamel), but have not had a lot of time to attend to it. I have only been able to clean it up a little, but have packed it pretty well and it should arrive OK. It is not cracked (at present) and I think you will approve its addition to your ‘cleaning materials', when you get it. I have also sent you one
3 lb tin of marmalade (Palestine, but described on the outside as Italian) and one kilo of peas (they appear very small; cost 2s. 3d.). I have also sent your Dad about 300 cigarettes which I hope (very much!) he gets safely.