My Dear Bessie (43 page)

Dearest One,

I am really delighted that the folding stool arrived OK, and not a little surprised. Painted a pastel shade, it will be an asset. I was glad to get the news that the lemons and the sardines had also arrived.

I am sure that there will not be any war for years yet. One very good reason why there will not be ‘war with Russia any moment' is that USA has the atomic bomb and would use it quickly if Russia attacked her or us, and it is unlikely that Russia's researches have yet borne fruit, atomically speaking. Even were the Powers of equal strength (and wars only occur when the two sides are about equal yet feel they have an advantage over the other), I do not see there is anything to fight for yet. Russia will do nothing, militarily, to stop our wicked Capitalist machinations, and we are in no state to stop USSR's unique methods of colonisation.

Please, I am not horribly tired of packing things. Thank the Lord I can do something to help you, something to show I always have you in my thoughts. And when I send you camp beds, electric fittings, folding chairs, I am no less than a Dicky Bird gathering twigs for the nest. A good feeling, my darling Mrs D.B.

I love you.

Chris

19 March 1946

My Darling,

On Sunday, Doug Taylor [old friend from Post Office days] and I went to the Museo-Aquario, not greatly different in appearance from most other aquariums that I have been to, glass panels and the twirling, circling occupants, unconscious of your interest. We went to the octopus exhibit and there was none to be seen. ‘Aspet!' (‘Wait') called the keeper, and goes behind the scenes and prods the water to chase out the poor octopus. Then we came to the anenome (if that is how it's spelt), which were floating gaily around. ‘Aspet!', and back behind he goes again, to prod away and give us a remarkable exhibition of the anenome withdrawing into its tube or shell, away from the danger it discerns. The prodder was disgusted with his one cigarette reward, but that was all we gave him.

I have just been out, and accidentally met a chap called Scott (late 30 Wing) whom I imagined to be up in Udine, Northern Italy. He explains that he has been sent to Naples on leave (although not officially as this is not a leave area) to be with his fiancée, an Italian girl of 18, whom he first met 7 weeks ago. He has set in motion the machinery to marry her. You will get the complete picture of him when I conclude with the information that his young lady in Scotland (to whom he is engaged) expects him home in a fortnight.

I love you.

Chris

26 March 1946

My Dearest,

I have been thinking very seriously whether I should tell you the next bit of news. But I have had to come to the decision that you must be told. But, before you read on, I do want you to keep a very tight hold on yourself, particularly on your optimistic faculty.

Well, Deb wrote me yesterday, and enclosed a leaflet issued by the Mets Branch. It says that the PO have now agreed ‘to … ask for the release of a considerable number of men from the Forces under Class B'. I should not be surprised if the Ministry of Labour agreed to the PO request. I don't know what procedure is adopted, but if this, if that, and if the other, you can see what might happen. I was thrilled and hopeful yesterday, and I can't say I have quite sagged back yet. For one thing, it is a step forward for the PO to ask for Counter Clerks, and indicates that there is the chance, there is a straw to clutch. But, my darling, I don't want you to get clutching it too hard. Nothing may happen for a month – and then – who knows? Or nothing may happen for six months!

I am sorry about your ‘bee-on-a-date' state, I'm sure you are facing up well to the combined efforts of Janet – C. and the separation from me. I wish to goodness I could tend your toenails! I'm afraid I should kiss your toes whenever I got the chance, for I too want so much to be with you.

Darling Bessie, I hope the weather will keep on improving, and this period of separation will be made less unbearable for you.
Know always that you are in my mind, that you are everything to me.

I love you.

Chris

27 March 1946

My Darling,

I don't think we need too much to fear the extent to which Janet – C. will modify our actions, and in any case there is no chance at all that our child will come between us. At the moment Janet – C. is waiting off-stage; I don't know what I shall think when he/she makes her bow, but I feel like telling any infant of ours that neither of us are going to be martyrs to anything. I am very sure, my darling, that our feelings for each other will continue as now, we shall love each other more and more and more – but I am sure we shall be lovers first, not just now, but always.

Well, I am sorry about the red carpet. When I first saw it, I thought ‘This would be good for the kitchen', but the more I thought, the better I valued it. But you have spoken: ‘The moth'. Wouldn't it do for cutting up? Of course, I am not ‘hurt' by the prospect of it going in the kitchen.

Yes, Brighton was very wonderful, and although sometimes it seems so very long ago, there are times when I know it was only yesterday, and that tomorrow we shall be together again, just the same. Oh, it was such a grand period of no restraint, no repression; of the flow and interflow of our inner selves. It was wonderful to be able to express ourselves, with mind and with the flesh. We had loved each other for so long, it was such a relief to be able to say so. I enjoyed every moment I was with you, and I know I will always do so. Your lovely voice; your intelligence; the breathtaking beauty of your lovely body – oh! It was not because I was tired that I slept better when with you than I have done since I joined the Army. It was because you are my home.

I hope I shall be able to do some of the wood in the shed; did you enquire about the gas poker, chico, or don't you fancy it?

I love you.

Chris

1 April 1946

My Darling,

I am sorry that you have to go through a depressing recital of other people's matrimonial troubles when you go to the Clinic. I think people must want a job when they retail their husband's defects
to more or less strangers, even though they are fellow expectants. What you have heard confirms my earlier observations that the war has been a very acceptable break from monotony for some husbands and wives. It is true that husbands will have changed –the mere process of growing does that – but I think some of the change will be imagined by the wife, who has probably invested her husband's shadow with all sorts of virtues that he never really had.

I have just read
Sex Problems of the Returning Soldier
by Kenneth Howard, with a foreword by Rev Leslie Weatherhead. It is very good and sound, so far as I can judge. Amongst the points made is that of the welcome break that Army life is in some marriages; it says that married couples must develop the ‘us' to be successful, and that then children may well follow. It says that jealousy is very understandable, as the other partner desires passionately to completely possess the other.

On my own little problem, it says that there is a saying ‘99% of men have practised masturbation at some time, and the other 1% are liars.' It is not harmful unless done several times a day over long periods. The married man away from home may wake to discover he has unconsciously been doing so. The return to a natural life will eliminate the problem. He says that impotence (which he defines as inability to secure and maintain erection) is not unusual either, at first, in marriage or upon return, but is usually overcome with normality. If not, medical advice should be taken. The underlying purpose of the book is to show that the other partner to a marriage must study carefully the needs and ‘likes' of the other. That, if one enters a trade, one studies for it,
and that to successfully live happily with another person for 40 or 50 years, one must study similarly. I don't think I can manage to send it to you, but it is worth reading.

Our case is rather different from those who have been used to married life before the war. We do start, as you say, practically from scratch. I feel that between us we have gone a long way towards the ‘US', and that our intelligence will enable us to meet the challenges fairly well. I wanted also to say that a lot of chaps leave the Army as Army types', they are loud-voiced, unthoughtful, and exhibitionist. I am little touched by my short stay in the Army and feel that I have lost hardly any of the civilian graces, and that within a short time of kicking off my Battle Dress I will be ready for

[Incomplete]

5 April 1946

I went to a Variety Show the night before last. There was a tough guy who put horseshoes (examined by soldiers on the stage) in his mouth, between his teeth, and with his hands broke them in half! (Brute.) A magician who produced doves from nowhere and made them disappear into nothing (also a Brute). The name of the show was ‘The Get-Atoms', but it wasn't that almost indecent title that attracted me. It was the guest artiste, whom I had never seen in person, and thought I would like to – and there I was, second
row of the stalls, about four yards along from – Gracie Fields. She was dressed in a dark blue lace gown, very well made up. She sang bags of songs, medleys, ‘Christopher Robin', ‘Ave Maria', ‘Sally', ‘My Hero', and I thought was very good. She had her own pianist, a great player; was presented with a bouquet. I thought of her after the show gliding back over the sea to Capri, so near. I am glad I went. The rest of the ‘artistes' were quite poor, and the comedians were low. Perhaps one joke will appeal to you. A lady had a ride on a camel in the zoo, but it threw her off, and bolted with lightning speed down the road. The keeper asked what she had done to it, and she replied ‘Only tickled its belly.' ‘Well,' said the keeper, ‘you'd better tickle mine, because I've got to get the blooming thing back.'

I can get boxes of Kleenex tissues here, by the way. Would you like any?

I love you.

Chris

I suggest something like this:

THE REGIONAL DIRECTOR, LPR, GPO, EC1

Sir,