Sunday
Devonport
My darling,
We have had a nice lazy day today. I mean, an even lazier day! The last Sunday we were here we managed to escape divisions and church, but could not avoid it this week and dropped in for an inspection by the Commander but got through without any trouble. He took so long over it that we didn’t get into the cinema for the Meth service until nearly five to eleven and, as dinner is at 11.30 on Sunday, you can imagine the service was badly “butchered”. But even so, they didn’t forget to come round with the collection plate! I’m told they tried the experiment here of making church voluntary, but the church couldn’t take it as the attendance out of many hundreds of men dropped to 25. I thought of what Harold used to say about spud peeling on Sunday mornings. One of the P.O.s said “all denominations but C of E fall out on the roadway”. Off we went and found two notice boards for Church of Scotland and the Meths and United Board. When it was found there was quite a number of R.C.s in with the latter, they were told to fall in on the left and one said “Oh hell, that means more work for the poor R.C.s”, which tickled me in view of what Harold used to say.
We were free to go ashore at one o’clock and for a time toyed with the idea of trying to get in to one of the Plymouth cinemas to try to get in to see ‘How Green Was My Valley’, but after hearing of people waiting two hours or more we decided against it and were feeling that we were doomed to a dull day when I suddenly recalled that Bartlett, who used to work on the ‘B.T.’, lived originally at Saltash. We made inquiries and found it is only a couple of miles away. We walked there and found a funny old chain ferry so we crossed to the other side of the river and there found Saltash to be a weird combination of the ancient and the modern. The old part of the village – a real Elizabethan place – is a typical old fishing village with incredibly narrow streets, some of them with a gradient of one in four or five. A bit further away from the river are several typical Corporation estates. There’s a good deal of semi-tropical flora (de dah!) here and I saw bamboo growing in one garden. A very popular flower is hydrangea, which grows in huge bunches.
After walking for a couple of hours and not being able to find a place where we could get a cup of tea – the pubs were shut – we lay and slept in the sun for an hour before getting back to barracks in time for supper. A much more pleasant day than we expected.
Monday
It was good to have a letter from you again. Although I had made up my mind it was quite out of the question to expect one before today, it seems ages since I saw the familiar writing. I think you have struck the right line about leave. It is, most unfortunately, only an interlude and has to be regarded in that light. To think of it as a permanent state is just madness, for it only invites disaster in the form of reaction. Still, I was really glad to know that you got almost back to normal so quickly. It is very satisfying to my ego to know that I really am missed a lot, but it is also very worrying because nothing upsets me more than to think that you are at all unhappy or unwell. It’s good, too, to know that Wendy is improving so quickly and that the good behaviour of Michael has lasted beyond my actual leave. I do hope he keeps it up. If there’s a chance of my coming home fairly often, he may be better. I know just what you mean about the “unsatisfied” feeling after leave. I had it, too, but don’t forget that had Wendy not “gone sick” on us, we would have had two pleasant evenings on Wednesday and Thursday which would have made an enormous difference. On the subject of possessiveness during leave, you should talk to Mrs Reid – she said exactly the same thing to me while I was home.
Thanks, by the way, for the reminder about the pint! I had a couple with Dave before I got the train and he palmed 10/- on me. I wonder if you realise that I got more from him and Mrs Russel than I did from my own family? Don’t hint at all, but it hurt a bit. Not merely from the financial point of view, but also from the spirit of the thing. Ah, well. We get over these small things.
The letter you enclosed, and which I take it Percy sent on, was a very cheery note from Insp. [??] Howell of the G.E.O. written, by a coincidence, on the day I began my leave. He was one of the fellows I missed when I called in there on the Tuesday night I was in Liverpool. His letter was quite unexpected and, being full of wisecracks, provided a good laugh even though quite a few of the “cracks” were aimed at me. I must write him a note when I get to Cabbala.
I wrote that last sentence an hour ago. Now I may not go to Cabbala! When we got back from leave one of the fellows just down from Aberdeen was going on leave and we heard he had been put into a new branch of the signals – automatic Morse operators. Apparently it is a brand new idea and John Gray and I went gunning for the Chief here as soon as we heard about it. We have no idea where the course will be but I went for it chiefly for a reason which will appeal to you – it means shore station work permanently. How do you like that? Does it compensate for the knowledge that I won’t be home in the next two or three months? I hope so. Anyway, our names are going forward and we will have to wait a few days to hear whether we have been accepted and, if so, where the course is. As soon as I know anything definite I’ll let you know. We may, of course, be sent anywhere at all. Knowing my luck, I have no doubt it will be in some out of the way spot! The part that appeals to me is that I’ll feel my hard work up at Aberdeen has not been completely wasted. Anyway, I have told you all I know, but I want to know if you feel I have done the right thing. I felt that as it is a new branch, there may be a chance of making a good thing of it. Let me know what you think.
Your enclosure from HM Collector of Taxes was an unpleasant surprise. He is demanding £11-19 which was due on July 1st. What a hope he has got! I think I sent you a form from Aberdeen and asked you to put it away for me. Can you let me have it by return of post? It is only a small piece of paper but it may have some useful information on it. I don’t want that shadow hanging over my head all the time. It will have to be paid some time, of course, but I’m not at all keen on the idea of it being deducted from my already meagre pay.
Well, sweetheart, this is all the news at the moment. Things are still pretty dull here and this new business may mean that that we will be in Devonport a bit longer, so perhaps you had better keep writing to this address until I drop you a line with my new address. For the moment don’t say anything to anyone, until I know the full strength of the job. Tell Mother I won’t write her until I know my new address.
Oh, my darling, I still love you, as you can guess from the fact that I’ve now renounced all hope of going to sea. And do you remember what we used to call Dobell for being a “dry land sailor”? Well, well! With my proverbial luck, this is too much to hope for, but after all there IS a shore station at Seaforth. But what a hope.
Bye for now, angel girl. Give my love to the children. All my love, sweet.
Ever your,
Arthur X