My Dear Bessie Read online

  In one of your letters you say your heart beats within me. That is good. I will look after your heart. Please always try to be happy because of future prospects, rather than sorrowful because of present separation.

  I love you.

  Chris

  2 May 1945

  Dearest,

  I had just addressed the front [of the envelope] when someone called out ‘News Flash’, we all rushed to the tent with the wireless, and heard the announcement that the German armies in Italy had surrendered unconditionally. Coming on the same day as the 7 a.m. announcement (which I heard) that Hitler was reported dead, it gave us a certain extra elation and hope that other Germans will also surrender rather than make it necessary for our chaps to get killed unnecessarily. We have again been warned that sobriety is expected of us when the great announcement is made. For us, I don’t expect the change to mean anything except more spit, and more polish, more parades, more guards, more sickening routine and regulation.

  [Continued 3 May 1945]

  I am very glad that the rockets have finished. What is it like to be able to go unthinkingly to bed, and to know you will be undisturbed? I wish I had not been windy of the rockets, it ‘stunted’ my actions and chained me down.

  Your comments about my greatness over my Greek experiences are very welcome, but they are by no means correct. I am not a great man nor have I ever behaved like one. I am a very little man, with his ear close to the ground.

  I hope you will buy clothes. Don’t wait for my approval – you have it in advance. You should beware of a clothing shortage and buy normally. It is also by no means certain that the items will remain at their present low prices. If the profiteers win, things will go ‘up and up and up’ alright. It is not ‘saving for the future’ to denude yourself or deplete a modest wardrobe. Carry on, and buy, and if you want to save, consider again the smoking habit. I thought of an idea. Suppose you smoke 20 a day now, carry on smoking 20 each day for a week, then smoke 19 each day. At the end of that week, reduce to 18 for the next seven days, and so on. It would take nearly six months to reduce to nothing, but it might be the way out, to slowly slide away from it. You say you wish you were thoughtful like me – well, I’m not thoughtful, only artful! I think we’ll rub along together very well indeed. I feel fairly certain we both have sufficient intelligence not to try to make the other unhappy.

  All this morning I have been helping to shift scenery in the dirty little theatre (Teatro Mercadante) of this town, in preparation for an Italian Variety Show, which I expect I will see tonight. Backstage was even dirtier than the front, though more interesting, hauling on ropes to bring scenes down, shifting pianos, and so on. Quite a change from the putting up (rather than use the slick word ‘erecting’) of tents and barbed wire, in which campaign I have gained several cuts and blood blisters on my hands. The weather here is rainy, and it is dismal to hear it pattering down on the tent roof, when you have just moved from a waterproof building. It is very cold in the morning, particularly as I only wear my rompers (overalls) during the working day. I think of you always. I love you always. I need you always.

  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

  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.* 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 mas
turbation. 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.