Wednesday
Skegness
Darling,
I’m making a start on your weekend letter tonight because tomorrow looks like being a hell of a day. First of all it is Commodore’s rounds, a sort of fortnightly tour of inspection by the Great White Sahib for whose special benefit everything has to be laid out just so. The deck – floor to you – of the chalet has been duly scrubbed today and we will have to be up early in the morning to be sure everything is ship-shape before 8am as we will not get another chance at it. That is our first burden of the day. Then we have been taken off training for the day and put on to salvaging stuff on the bomb site. That will be a filthy job as it has been raining all afternoon and now, just to put the finishing touch, there’s a real blizzard raging. Finally, just to make tomorrow a perfect day, we are due for another spell of firewatching on the roofs of buildings. My turn is from 10.30pm to 12.30. That’s not a bad day’s work is it? The only thing that can save me is a trip to the dentist, as I believe that after having so many teeth out I will go into sick berth – a different place from sick quarters – for three or four days to make sure I don’t catch cold and to give the gums a chance to heal. I prefer the dentist or firewatching.
By the way, I have been going to tell you this for ages. I now have an official number and you had better make a careful note of it for future reference. It is JX 342517. You may need it in connection with the allowances some time. Have I told you that my base or depot is Devonport? Anyway, it is. That is the place I will go after I have passed the wireless course and I shall be there until I am posted to a ship. After that I don’t suppose I shall see the place much. I’m glad I was not posted to Lowestoft as that would have meant some tiny ship. Small ships have their advantages but, all in all, I think I prefer the bigger jobs.
Many thanks for the cough drops. They are the best things I can find. I have no hope of losing this cough while I’m here. Even the natives here seem to have perpetual colds in the winter and one of the sick bay lads told me has been trying to cure his own cough for two months! It’s the weather which doesn’t give you any chance.
Thursday
The day has lived up to my fears. To start with the blizzard raged all night and has not properly stopped yet. I’m adding these few lines in a few illegal spare moments as tonight is lecture night (until 6), supper at 7, bed about 8 and firewatching 10.30. Isn’t it funny, that sounds like the middle of the night to me, now! Yes I did hear from Monty Taylor and from Fisher[??] but have not yet had a chance of replying to Fish. I have asked Monty for a writing case like the one we got for Durham (from whom I have not heard yet) or a leather photo frame – one of those folding ones, you know. I don’t seem to have written quite so many letters this week and the days have fairly fled by.
All the lads in the class are banking on us getting away from here a fortnight today. I’m not because no other class so far has moved so promptly. We can only wait and hope but as soon as I get to know I’ll get in touch with you. If it is a leave day for us when we hear I’ll slip into Skeg and phone you. If not, I’ll drop you a line at once, if it is only a note giving you the bare information and the new address. My stolen time is over, I’ll try to add a line or two before or after tea.
Here we are again. Pinched another few minutes but my hands are so cold, even with your thick gloves that my writing is steadily getting worse. Do you know what happened this morning? It was too bad for the old Commodore to turn out so the Divisional Commander came round instead. Isn’t life in the Navy just too joyful? After all the trouble we went to for the old sod.
We have spent all the day sorting out electric cables from the bombed chalets and buildings. It was all in small lengths and we had to unfasten the little clips by which it had been secured to the walls. One good thing about it was that we were inside a building which at least had the roof on it, while a lot of the lads were outside in the snow salvaging timber and loading it on lorries. Half of the camp have been shovelling snow today with the result that everyone is well and truly browned off, a mood which was. It made any sweeter when, on morning parade, a warrant officer said “Wait till the sea is coming over the top of the fo’csle in gallons. You will know yourselves then.” The sotto voce remarks deserve a place in history! Off to tea now!
Back from tea and the lecture. A bloke was speaking about submarines and finished up with an appeal to young, fit and adventurous fellows to volunteer for submarine service.
Well, love, if I’m to get this in the post tonight I’ll have to finish. Will you tell the children that I loved reading their letters and that I will try to write to them at the weekend, which means they should receive them on Monday or Tuesday. Must go now, sweetheart. I love you very much tonight. If only I could creep into bed beside you when I finish this damn fire-watching instead of coming back to this damn chalet!
Bye my sweet, look after yourself until I come home again.
All my love,
Arthur