No. 1

(Previous 6.11.39, 9.11.39. 13.11.39)

Maycot
12 Commonside,
Keston,
Kent,

14.11.39.

​

Dearest,

Your letter No. 7 (6 not yet to hand) arrived together with little Jill’s tonight (only 5 days after you had written it.) What a lovely long and chatty one, and Mr Chapple, the darling, left it intact. (I’m sorry but the last word reminds me of a rude joke!)

I’m so sorry it was such a long time between my letters and, as I feel some may have been delayed or not received, I am commencing to number them, this being No. 1.

Above I also give dates of recent letters of mine not yet acknowledged by you.

Postman Sidney Cheal, whenever he has a letter from you, knocks and delivers it into my hands. Just to see my pleased expression. He always remembers when I received the last one too.

By the way, were you at any of the recent concerts to the Troops relayed on the radio? I loved Maurice…

…Chevalier the other night!

I’m so sorry I was so dull regarding your remark about “Friends of Robert’s and Helens” – I should have known you meant the Air Force.

I’m glad you received the gloves and that they are satisfactory. I sent off your Balaclava Helmet and trust you have now received. Wyn and I had some fun trying it on.

You must not worry that Gillain is going short in the way of knitted woolies, as I am now making her her third set of frock and knickers. (I will certainly look out your scarf and sent it on to you.)

By the way, I told Jill the other day that you used to like me to call you “Petalinda” and that you called me “Pixie”. She now insists ocassionally that I call her “Petalinda” and she calls me “Pixie”! Incidentally, she informs me that when she’s a little bigger she is not going to school but it going to be a “troop” (singular, won’t say “soldier”) and go to France to have a bigger gun. She tells lots of people too.

She is terribly proud of your…

…letters. He little bosom visibly swells when I read them to her. Enclosed is a letter from her to you and one to Uncle Vic. She regrets she’s run out of clean notepaper, but said you would both understand!

It was nice of Jim to send you that wire. I do hope you have now written him, he is terribly bored! Have you had Edies parcel yet?

I expect you have heard from Ethel by now and also “Murdoch(?)” both of whom, I know, have written you.

In my previous letter I gave you Dad’s address, I know he would appreciate a line from you, he also is an orphan at the moment and it’s probably not so easy at his age. In his letter to me however, he sounded as though he found the new work very absorbing and his main concern was that Mother should be kept happy.

Gwen Jones’ song, by the way, was unfortunately about a cow!!

As I told you before I am going to Town tomorrow, ostensibly to shop for Wyn. Tris is coming for the day to look after Jill (Tris’s day off) I am meeting Ellis for lunch and perhaps a matinee at the flicks after which I shall dash home as I want to be in by 7 p.m. I am looking forward to it as I feel I have been in too much recently. You may be sure I shall be thinking of you all the time though.

The last pictures I mentioned to you were “The Story of Irene & Vernon Castle” with Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, a lovely film and quite their best. I’ve never liked Fred Astaire so much.

The other was quite an amusing American Gangster film, I forget the name.

I have not met any more relatives of your colleagues lately other than Tris, but I will certainly mention it when I do. Did you know that Vic’s brother’s wife finds she is going to have a baby? Tris is really a very genuine girl and she is going to live in her sister-in-laws’s flat with her after Xmas, look after her and see her through. I think it rather sad to have a first baby under such circumstances and it is all the more generous…

…of Tris to devote her time in this way.

Wyn and I laugh at your funny insertions about rats and cows and things. I’m afraid Wyn is not getting less rude, but she is very cheerful and is most appreciative of the little services I render her. I told you, didn’t I, she had treated me to a 112 lb sack of potatoes, as she had heard they were going to be scarce this winter!

I’m grieved to hear you find French rats immoral, though I had always thought most things French has a leaning that way, subtle though rather rude this!

I am very glad to hear of your new jerkin and expect you will find this very comforting in the cold weather.

Yes it was apparently true that someone hid a bomb in the place where old “Nasty” was to make a speech. Actually I should not be at all surprised if the consequences were not suffered by one of his numerous doubles or deputies, ad I believe “Nasty”…

…himself rarely dares venture from *Berlisgadin–*wrong spelling but you know what I mean.

If you managed to listen to last night’s 9:00 news you will have heard that Keston Ponds were in the news in connection with an A.F.S. demonstration in which units from all over London took place. It was an experiment in the carrying of water over a distance of two miles (in this instance from the ponds) which might be necessary anywhere should water mains be damaged by enemy action.

The hose was laid all the way down Commonside and Jill and I followed it to the Ponds where we watched the pumping operations. There were at least 500 firemen assembled and they were having a lovely time!

By the way, I believe I told you before that we have not now an A.F.S. depot in Keston. “Nero” and his pals having been transferred to Hayes. However “Nero” & Co. received the Cup for the most efficient squad. Good little things ain’t they?

I do hope you have recovered from your second inoculation and that you did not find it too unpleasant.

We are not yet experiencing any difficulty in food supplies with the exception of butter, but I usually manage to get sufficient from one source or other. I am, for economy’s sake, creaming together equal quantities of butter and margarine. It’s quite good and very wholesome.

Wyn has just come in and so I’ll close and get her supper.

Jill sends you lots of love and, with all mine,

Yours,

Terry.