Mar 061942
 

Friday
HMS Royal Arthur, Skegness
Darling,
Isn’t this paper too, too! I’m running short of pads, although I brought three with me! That shows what my main occupation, apart from work, has been here. And speaking of letters, I’ve had a nice one from May today. She seems quite touched that I should have written, though goodness knows why. Were the position reversed, I should certainly hope you would write to Mother. May sent me the last letter she had from Harold and I’m enclosing it for you to read. If you think May would like it back, will you return it to her? And while we are on this question of returning letters, don’t worry, I will not bring Jane’s letter home. Jane is part of the trouble. She says things in her letters to us which make it impossible to show her letters to Mother. If she kept them on separate sheets at the end, we could easily “lose” them, but they are usually either on the first page or bang in the middle of the letter.
Keep that strong man out of the bathroom, or I’ll have to take you in hand! But perhaps the bathroom is not quite the right place for that? So, apart from the ringing of the bell, there is a ’prise for me, is there? Like the children, I like ’prises, and cannot think what it might be. Gives an added spice to coming home – if that is possible. I hope I don’t get a different ’prise when I do come home, in the form of unexpected vapours brought on by excitement. It’s possible you know! I’ll have your life! The occasion will certainly warrant the best obtainable, but my concern is to be sure there is one at home in case I cannot get one on my way home.
How I envy you your wet-day activity! Here it has been snowing for two solid days and is as cold as it has ever been since we came. Last night I spent a solid two hours on top of a snow covered roof! Fortunately we were out of the worst of the wind. Today has been better for we have had lectures all day, except for an hour at gym which got me beautifully warm and in good trim for dinner. The rest of the day we were under cover – actually in a super cinema which is being built at one end of the camp. No mere service job, this, but a bigger and better place than Crosby’s Plaza! Smashing job it will be when it is finished in a few weeks. It seems we came here at the wrong time. A fortnight before we got here our mess, apparently by far the best in the camp and furnished with cosy – yes, cosy! – small rooms for reading, writing etc – was burned out. A fortnight after we got here Jerry drops one bomb which makes so much fatigue duty that we miss half of our training classes. If that means we have to stay here in the freezing cold longer than we thought, there will be plain but very bloody murder here!
It is the custom here when a class is leaving on draft for them to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ in the mess after their last meal. In the last three days, five classes have murdered it. You should have heard the feeling in their voices!!
I got the ‘Statesman’ today. Many thanks, I’m enjoying it, but I’m right out of date with the news. Don’t even know if Rangoon has fallen. Has it, or is it likely to? The par in the ‘Statesman’ was interesting but, after just one Sunday in the Navy, not surprising.
Religiously we are divided into three sects: C of E, Meth and RC. Everyone comes within one of those three sects. The Meths include a weird collection: Congregationalists, Plain Methodists, Baptists, Salvationists, the whole ????. But what surprised, and shocked me, was that in the Meth service on Sunday was a Jew! So much for freedom of thought. When I commented on this to the fellow sitting next to me, he said, half in a huff, “There’s nothing in this service that will do anyone any harm”. Seemed quite unable to grasp the fact that a Jew was a separate religion.
I’m afraid I’ll have to give up this for the moment. I hope what I have already written makes some sense. When I got halfway through the first page an impromptu concert began and there has been a succession of lewd songs since then.
Saturday.
One of the lads who came on the stage after I had given up trying to write any more gave a “dumb” show – mime I suppose you’d call it – of a girl getting undressed, getting into a bath, washing and drying and dressing again. Do I need to say it went over big? You could tell what parts of her anatomy she was washing by the roar of the lads! Talking of shows, there is an Ensa production of ‘Hay Fever’ with Ellen Pollock in the lead on here tonight and I did want to see it. We were duty class again today and as I had touched out for a job that went all wrong from the beginning I asked Harry Forman to get me a ticket when he went for his own. There was a tremendous crowd and they would only issue one ticket to each person. I have just been along in the hope of getting in at the last minute but the queue was about half a mile long – or almost! I gave it up but was really disappointed. It was the one show I have been at all intrigued by since I came.
So you don’t like my picture? You try to keep me out of 45 once I get a few days leave. Just try it! I know you are not going to like this uniform, not because of its lack of beauty but the lack of certain essential features, which you will learn in due course. Just wait until you have seen me struggling into it in the morning, or for that matter, out of it at night. The sooner I come home and instil a little discipline into the family the better, I should say. It is bad enough to have the wife laughing at the boss of the house, but for her to encourage insubordination in the lower ratings is unforgivable! By gad,woman, a touch of the rope’s end for you. And you’ll take it and like it – I hope!!
Anyway, that’s what I look like and that is what you are tied to for life – so help you! If you don’t like it, on your way sister. Churchill’s secret weapon indeed. Stella’s secret weapon up to now, but if you don’t behave better I will not keep it so secret. Now what have you to say to that? On your knees woman. Oh, if only you could, right at this very second. Remember the way you used to do and I used to take your dear head in my hands. Oh, darling, just to remember all the little things we used to take almost for granted as our normal rights gives me a peculiar feeling. Perhaps the biblical phrase “a yearning in the loins” comes nearest to it. It is not an erection. It is something better, deeper, far finer than that. You shouldn’t describe your letters as “oaty”. They are sweet and natural and they mean so much more than mere oats. If only oats was involved, you’d have had that strong man in the bathroom long ago and I should now be worrying in case you had, or else I should be out sampling other wares on my nights ashore. The mere fact that I can complacently bank on you hungering for me as I hunger for you – and my appetite grow each day – proves, thank God, that we do mean so much to each other. How terrible were it otherwise.
To more mundane things, although it is a wrench to leave that subject tonight. I’m glad you have written Eric and Lilian – I think you did the right thing in mentioning the financial side. I’m answering a series of points you made in your last letter so forgive me if I jump from subject to subject. My cough is a good deal better but still worries me a little at night and in the morning. I think I have acknowledged the lozenges. They are a godsend. We don’t know where we are going to, of course, but we have arranged, tentatively, that if all three of us – Gibby, Harry and I – are moved to the same place we will try to get into the same digs, that is if we are sent to private billets. You speak of missing me for clearing the snow. I know which I would sooner clear, the snow at Crosby or that at Skeg. It isn’t very deep here, in fact surprisingly light, but it is bitterly cold. Sorry to harp on the subject, but it fills our days and nights. I have been wondering about this subject of the children’s behaviour. Do you think I ought to make direct reference to Michael’s naughtiness, or do you think it might teach him to regard you as an arch-sneak? The child mind registers such distinct impressions.
I was interested to hear of your progress with the dressing table and am looking forward to seeing the result. Careful, love, about knocking nails in walls. The two great dangers are that you will bring down half the plaster or put the nail through a gaspipe. In either case you would be in a jam. You will find a lot of stuff, by the way, tucked away at the back of the garage or perhaps on a shelf on the right-hand side, but most of the stuff – odd nails and bits of chain and staples and the like are at the back, under the window. I should have loved to see you in the middle of the corner wardrobe job! From the sketch it looks quite well, but I doubt if it will stand very much weight. Be careful you don’t pull the curtain rail down.
So you went to sleep to dream of me and spent the time chasing a lavatory? Come to think of it, I’ve a few things to settle with you when next I see you.
Well, darling, I’ve about written myself out. Writing you is so like talking to you that I do wish I could find more time every night for a letter like this. I shall go to bed now as content as ever I can be when I’m actually away from you. Be careful in this changeable weather, pet. You mean more to me than I could ever tell you if I wrote a whole volume. You are part of me – and such an essential part, too. It seems a silly thing to say, but I have drawn a lot of my consolation from you. That’s badly put. What I mean is that if I had not you to retreat to so often, life here would have been much worse.
Night night pet. I love you more and more each day in a deeper, fuller way.
All my love, darling,
Arthur X

P.S. I forgot to enclose the 7/2 postal order although I had it in my pocket. I’ll try to remember this time. The post office is not open now but I’ll send you the 11/6 for pyjamas, which as you will see from Wendy’s letter I’m going to wear tonight. Many thanks, sweet, they’re very nice. About this money business. Don’t be silly. Keep it and save it. You may need it. Shoes, for instance, are going to be a big item for you now, so save every penny you can. I’m trying hard to live on this service pay and have almost succeeded this fortnight. I think I will be able to do it in the next two weeks. It’s not too bad with the tobacco ration which I drew today. That is going to help a lot. I’ll miss it if I go into civvy billets from here. Talking about tobacco, can you get me a supply – a dozen if you can manage them – of packets of cigarette papers. Woolworths may have them. Ask for Rizla Red papers. If you can manage to get hold of a couple of cigarette machines like mine, there’s a couple of fellows here would be very glad of them. They’re absolutely unobtainable here. The only thing we can get are the spare canvas rollers. Do what you can, as soon as you can, will you? Many thanks love.
P.P.S. Do you remember the printed cigarette papers, those referring to the horse manure? [??] Will you put a few in your next letter? I think you will find them in one of the ornaments on the mantelpiece. Now I really am going to post this. Bye my precious. X