From Michael & Wendy to Arthur: ‘ will the sailors come to your party?’

Jun 111944
 

Sunday
Home
Dear Daddy,
Many happy returns. I hope you have a nice birthday. Will the sailors come to your party?
Thank you for the cigarette cards and chocolate.
I have got the second reading book now.
This afternoon we went to see the Salute The Soldiers procession on the main road and there was a man on a white horse leading and Eddie was leader of the Scouts and he told Roy to keep in step. We saw two processions.
We went to the fair last week and we went on the dragons, and a little bus and we went upstairs on it. We gave a sweet to a donkey and we had a donkey ride. We went on aeroplanes that went round and up in the air.
I am taking all the weeds out of the peas. There is a little pea pod on the peas we planted in a jar. The blackcurrants are nearly ready.
Love from
Michael.

Dear daddy
I hope you have a happy Birthday. We went to the fair and we went on a horse that went up and down and we went on a two wheeler bake. last week we went to the pictures to see lost angel. I have got a new techer and her her nane is Miss Walters. Im going to Jens party and we’ve bought her a two pairs of socks and a drawing book and two pencils and I going to Cymthias party on munday. Thank you for the chocolate and cigarette cards.
Love from wendy

From Wendy to Arthur, and Arthur to Stella: ‘I’ll remember the accommodation here for two things: spotless lavatories and very well kept billiards tables’

Jun 231944
 

Friday
Dover
Dearest,
I’m getting very worried. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and no letter from you. Whatever has happened? If it was not for the fact that these doodlebugs may have upset the railways I’d have sent you a wire. I did get a letter yesterday but it is an old one – dated June 8th! As I can’t read either of the post office franks on it, I can’t tell where it has been wandering to, but from now on will you please address all my letters in block capitals (not script) as I do yours and to be even more certain it would be as well to add KENT after Dover. Although it is now a fortnight old, I think there are one or two points which might be cleared up and the first is that I hope you have not had a return of your worrying moods as to what might have happened to me, even if other people do take it for granted that I’ve gone over there too! A move like that is not very likely while we are here on loan, though there is always the possibility of anything happening these days.
This is the letter in which you say the children were going to write but you stopped them – the first reference you have made to that subject and probably it was written at the moment when I was complaining so bitterly. I’ll have the pants off you! Did I hear you say “yes please”?
We were informed, today, that letters may now be posted sealed whereas before they had all to have the flap left open. This does not mean that the censorship has been suspended, but just that they pick an odd one here and there instead of doing them all. Will you let me know, by the way, if any of my previous letters have been snipped and also if any future ones are and then I’ll know where I’m working. You ask several questions, not all of which I’ll answer, but I will say that I’m not on a ship but working in similar conditions to those at Admiralty, except that we live and sleep away from the job, travelling to and fro by bus. Hours of work are a bit complicated so I won’t bother to detail them, but we are not so lucky here about our time off. Nominally we are off every other day from 8 a.m. until 8 a.m. or 12.30 (noon) next day according to the watch we have to pick up. On the face of it that sounds quite good, but in actual practice it isn’t so hot. One great snag is that though we are off watch we can’t get ashore until the first liberty boat at 13.30, whereas the general practice is for watch-keepers to have a free gangway (which means you can go ashore at any time), the liberty boats being intended for men who are on day work and so are free most nights. If we should miss the 13.30 boat we are stuck in the “camp” until 17.30, which means of course that we cannot go far afield as we have to be aboard again at 22.30. So far as the amount of work is concerned, we are doing far less than at Admiralty, but in many ways it is more interesting as we are supposed to be instructing people in the use of our stuff. So far the only person I’ve trained is a Wren who was a touch typist in civvy street, so that was a walk-over and she could carry on by herself now for all the work there is at the moment.
And that, I think, is about all there is to say on that subject for the moment. One more little point is that though we are chained in here from 8 to 13.30, we can’t make a lot of use of the time. It’s usually about 9 before we have finished breakfast and that’s a good time to dhobi, but the wash place is closed from 9.30 to 11. So perhaps you think you will have a shower, but you find that the showers are closed from 8 to 10.30! All of which means that you have to work out a more or less split-second programme and yet waste a lot of time doing so. In fairness, these places have to be closed some time each day for cleaning, but not as long as that. I don’t go much on the accommodation here at all, but I’ll remember it for two things chiefly: spotless “heads” (lavatories to you), the walls of which are scarcely marked by the usual drawings and verse; and very well kept billiards tables, two of them, which would be a credit to a good club. Odd, isn’t it, that people should be able to “leave their mark” in such ways.
Now there’s only one other point to refer to in that letter – evidence! Sweetheart, the evidence just has not been made which could possibly contain the visible and concrete evidence of my yearning for you. Full to overflowing is a mild way of putting it and just the mere thought of evidence has set John’s heart beating like a sledgehammer, but I’m not going to enlarge on that subject. Oh, precious, I love you very dearly and am sick to death of all this repression and frustration. As yet there is nothing concrete on which to build our hopes, but if we are here another month I think we will stand a very good chance of leave – a very good chance but beyond that I’m not prepared to go. The great question, of course, is will we be here then? I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find myself on the way back at any moment, so if you do get a telegram don’t get palpitations for it will only be to let you know where to write.
Did I tell you, by the way, that in a letter I had from Dot and Jack I learned that they are going on holiday on July 15 for a fortnight and that they will either be closing the flat or letting it, so Jack asked me to put up at the Union Jack Club if I should get back in that period. I meant to mention this before so you would know how the land lies, but I should leave it to Dot to let Mother know, I think.
I have written this on watch and I’m hoping that when I get back to breakfast there will be a letter from you. If not, I don’t know what I’ll think but I’ll leave this open so I can let you know.
Eric and Lilian wrote (or rather Eric did) for my birthday and I got the letter yesterday, which was not so hot as it was dated the 17th. As usual, Eric sent me £1 so I should be OK for slops now as I’ll have a bill from Admiralty soon I expect for stuff I ordered before I came away.
Lunchtime: Still no letter! If I don’t hear tomorrow I’ll have to wire you. The only possible explanation I can think of is that the railways have been hit, but in that case the lines must be in a right shambles to cause a delay of four full days. Somehow I can’t see that being the case and I’ll wait until the beginning of the week now, but if I don’t hear then I’ll do something about it. If there is anything wrong, I do wish you’d let me know quickly for it is very worrying.
Now I’ll push this into the post and possess my soul in patience as best I may. I love you so, dear heart, and I do hope you are all OK. My love to the children and all my love to you.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
P.S. Did my little parcel arrive and has there been any word from Jack about sending my other stuff?

Crosby
Dear Daddy,
I went to Brownies with cynthia. Mummy is making me a Brownie frock in time for next tuesday. we plaed some games and had the Brownie story. we went on the bus and came back with all the Brownies. Im in the skelpies with cynthia. were haveing a rest next week. Thank you for the sweets and for the letter. Michael will write at the weekend.
Love from Wendy

From Michael to Arthur: ‘I paddled on your dressing gown in the bath to make it clean’

Jun 241944
 

Saturday
Crosby
Dear Daddy
We ate the peas we grew in a Jar this morning. I have grown some cress on a plate. I paddled on your dressing gown in the bath to make it clean. We are reading Wind in the Willows.
Love from
Michael.

From Wendy to Arthur: ‘Imcross with the sailor that stole the chocolate’

Jul 021944
 

Sunday
Crosby
Dear Daddy
Thank you for your letter. I have been up sins Thursday. Imcross with the sailor that stole the chocolate and chewing gum. When you come home we are going to give you a surpris. Judy likes the tops off the new carrots.
Love from Wendy

From Stella to Arthur: ‘a bloke came last night to see if we wanted to get rid of the shelter – they are taking them to London’

Jul 121944
 

Wednesday
Home
Dearest,
I’m afraid that, through swapping over from afternoon to evening letters you’ll be a day without a letter. I’m sorry, but this afternoon was the first fine afternoon since last Saturday so I dived out to the plot, and it’s just as well I did, for rain started at 6.30 and has continued ever since.
Now where are we – when I went out to post your letter y’day a peculiar thing happened. A few days ago Mrs Bradley said (to my great astonishment!) that she would give me an egg for the children. Yesterday she called me and told me to give her a knock on the way back. I did so and was asked in and plied with tea and cake, was called ‘love’ and generally made a fuss of. Eventually she gave me six eggs and most firmly refused any payment! Still can’t get over it. As you know, apart from an occasional plot talk, we’ve never been particularly friendly and I’ve always considered her ‘close’. So – though this sounds very uncharitable – I’m wondering what’s at the bottom of all this!
Last night I got the scissors into the green stuff and have now got the frock finished, apart from turning up the hem and it promises to be very nice.
This afternoon and evening – until the rain – I worked hard at getting more of the greens in, and they are now being well and truly watered in. I kept the kids busy on weeding, for, with all this rain, one could easily spend three hours a day doing nothing but weeding. The tommies are making progress now and keeping me busy nipping out the side-shoots.
I’m beginning to have hopes about Michael. No sign yet! In fact he has been in very good spirits all day and has eaten very well indeed. Another 24 hours and we’ll be all right, though actually he is liable – though this is unlikely – to contract it any time during the next three weeks, for the simple reason that he may have got the germ any time during the last three weeks. But they were both in the same bath water the night Wendy started so I think if he didn’t touch for it then, he wouldn’t do so later on. It’s terribly nerve-racking, hoping and not daring to hope all at the same time. I haven’t had the faintest hope until today but there’s not the faintest sign of ‘sickening’ yet, and being Michael, his appetite today made me feel very hopeful.
I think that’s about all the news since y’day except that I’ve had that same article back again but H.L.B. is still out – getting on for a month now.
Here’s a bit of gossip for you – local legend has it that Mary Jones is pregnant again. And, while we’re on the subject, you may as well know that she now prefers to be called Mrs. Hasprey.
Mrs. Gardener is at an American camp for some sort of cause and is sending home rapturous accounts of the food – six-course breakfasts including two eggs!
And talking of food I think I’ll make me a round of toast before I start answering your letter, for my tea has worn off…
I shall not deign to reply to the first part of your letter as I am now above suspicion, being in the fourth day of vapours!
I don’t think the garden is looking ‘respectable’ at all, despite all that work on it, but it is better than it was and it’s something to have got the grass out. But I know my limitations and I just can’t do all that needs doing on the plot and garden, and the plot always comes first with me.
Regarding b’currants, I think you would need really big bushes and a lot of them to get really good pickings. These are as full of fruit as they can be for their size and remember it is the first year we’ve had any fruit from them at all. The rasps are doing well now but aren’t at the height of the season yet. We get about half a small basinful every couple of days.
I hesitated for a long time about sending Jack’s letter on to you, but eventually decided it would be better in the long run for you to know just how they felt about your going back there. There might have been a chance of you landing back in London before they had written to you and I thought if you knew how things stood, it might prevent a rather awkward situation.
I like your threat about a letter that will keep one jumping in and out of bed! But for heaven’s sake don’t send it until leave is in the very near future – I could stand it then! If Jackie?? makes a mess of this leave I’ll come to London to tell him what he is – flying bombs or not!
That last sentence has reminded me that a bloke came last night to see if we wanted to get rid of the shelter. It was a big temptation but I told him I didn’t think it fair for me to make a decision that would affect two kids. Anyway Wendy would go crackers if this shelter went out. She came out on the landing in quite a sweat saying “you didn’t let him take it, did you?” They are taking them to London.
That seems about all for tonight, love. I keep hoping each of your letters will bring some news of leave. But even if you do have news of Dover leave there’s still the chance you may be sent back to London before it comes off, isn’t there?
So I won’t be sure of you till I have you just where I want you – and you ought to know by now where that is! Night, my sweet. I love you.
Always your own,
Stella
P.S. Thursday morning M. still O.K.

From Stella to Arthur: ‘I know the evacuee is likely to complicate life, but there’s still no sign so I’m hoping it won’t turn up till after the weekend’

Jul 261944
 

Wednesday
Home
Darling,
Just another brief note as, according to your letter this morning, I shall be seeing you so soon. I’m so glad, love – I was trying not to bank on it, but of course one does!
The weather is undecided but I think it will brighten up so I’m in rather a rush as we’ll have to have dinner early if we are to get to Sefton Park by 3.
Yes, I know the evacuee is likely to complicate life on some counts, but there’s still no sign so I’m hoping it won’t turn up till after the weekend now. If it does arrive you can rely on me to make some arrangement.
I think we’d better make a definite arrangement that we meet you at Lime Street whatever the weather.
Must rush off now, love. Look after yourself till Saturday.
All my love, sweet,
Stella

From Stella to Arthur: ‘they’ve given me a good position in the paper and it’s illustrated with a title, sketch and a photograph’

Aug 021944
 

Wednesday
Limedale
Dearest,
I can never write properly to you in other people’s houses so this is just a note until tonight. I didn’t intend to stay the night here but I did manage to get a seat for the show this afternoon, so this seemed the easiest arrangement. I sent a phone message through last night to Crosby with instructions to Mrs Gardner about the cat and milk etc. I’ll get back as early as possible this evening. These days of sudden drafts it always makes me anxious when I’m away from the home letterbox.
We went out for a drink last night and I actually had a Guinness, but as it was so long since I’d had one, could only manage one. I’m right out of practice.
Chris has just this moment been on the phone to the hospital and they’ve told her to take Jen down right away so she’s very worried. Christian didn’t want his morning feed so will wake up famished in about an hour. Harold is trying to persuade Jen to go with him and she’s telling him where he gets off. So everyone is trying to sort it out.
Home.
Jen eventually agreed to go to the hospital with Harold providing Wendy went too and at that, of course, Michael decided he wanted to go, so I thought I’d better go to give a hand! Very complicated but there you are. The X-ray showed a fracture but it is in a good position and they are to see the specialist tomorrow. It cannot be serious because she is dashing around full of beans and it isn’t causing any pain now.
They didn’t keep us long and I was back in time to have lunch and go to the Royal Court. I enjoyed it [‘There Shall Be No Night’] immensely – those two are quite unique and her voice is fascinating. There is a perpetual bubble of laughter behind her words. The play, like so many plays and books today, sets out to portray the gradual change of feeling in a group of people during the course of the war. Actually the theme was very similar to the first play I saw, though the setting and characters were so different. I’ll try to remember to enclose the programme.
On the way home this evening we looked in at Mrs Garner’s for a while. She was asking about you. She has put on a few stone since I last saw her and is getting really tremendous.
Mother was at the Labour Exchange today and they told her she was definitely next on the list for the Prisoner of War office in Church Road (the Bluecoat School). That is what she has wanted all along as it is so convenient for home, so she is very bucked about it. Unless they send for her in the meantime she is coming here for the Bank Holiday weekend.
The ‘Housewife’ had been returned from Reading so I’ve purloined it until my own turns up. They’ve given me a good position in the paper – the first article following two ‘names’ – L.A. [????] Strong and Tom Driberg. It’s illustrated with a title, sketch and a photograph and it hasn’t been cut or subbed at all, so I’m quite pleased about it. I’m hoping it will be a fiver. I told mother she had, unconsciously, given me the idea for it, and gave her two bob, though we had to have a fight before she would accept it.
Thursday morning.
Many thanks for a nice long letter, love. Being away from home has bridged the gap between your going and the arrival of the first letter. I won’t attempt to answer it now, as we got up late (the clock has stopped so I don’t know how late!) I am worried about the chain and disc. It is not on the window-sill and, quite honestly, I can’t remember seeing it this leave. My first thought was that you had left it in the bath, but Michael says he thinks he remembers you putting it on again. Can you definitely remember the last time you had it? I’ve looked in all the obvious places but will have a search behind the bath in case it slipped off the sill.
Who do you think has a daughter? And we didn’t even know he was married – Ossie! We got a card today announcing the birth (Aug 1st) of Penelope Joy. I’ll send it to you when the kids have stopped admiring it, and I’ll drop a line of congratulations. Another thing that came this morning was the cheque from Jane – I’ll write to them tonight.
There’s been six knocks on the door since I started this so it’s pretty hopeless. I must find out the time.
All my love, darling,
Stella
P.S. Going to ‘Snow White’ this afternoon.

From Stella to Arthur: ‘we picked a bumper crop of raspberries for tea and made pigs of ourselves’

Aug 031944
 

Thursday
Home
Dearest,
We saw ‘Snow White’ this afternoon and the children love it, and, having been warned of the horrific parts, were not so alarmed as I expected. The other film – a long one (over which Mrs. Reid was commenting the other day) could not have been better chosen and you will be delighted that the children have seen it – but I’m poaching on their preserves so I’ll leave it at that. They will probably be writing tomorrow. Took Roy with us and Mrs Hawley was delighted because she had been wondering how she could take him without the baby. He seemed to be the only kid in the road who hadn’t seen it. I went to the library in the same journey and incidentally I saw a book that would be interesting in conjunction with a trip to Hampton Court – ‘Ladies of Hampton Court’. It was, however, a very large and solid volume (the ladies seem to have been legion) so I didn’t get it as I seem to find very little time for reading nowadays.
We picked a bumper crop of raspberries for tea (yes, I know I said I’d bottle the next picking!) and made pigs of ourselves. After tea, which was rather late, I did some hoe-ing and tomato-feeding on the plot. Then it was 8.30 very suddenly and I put the children to bed. I’ve done no housework today so tomorrow I must get stuck into it and then there’ll be a lot of shopping too. I took the first lot of beans today. They are the best I’ve grown, for until this year I’ve never been very successful with them and I think the seeds have been at fault for these have had the same treatment. If you remember I complained last year and the year before that the Woolworth seeds were full of holes.
Thanks for all the news from office and club, love, and I’ll look forward to hearing about your trip to the House. I bet that incident at Rugby shook you! Re Xmas I believe Nelson has opened his club so I’ll start dropping a bob or two there whenever I’m passing. It’s a pity he doesn’t go in for decent books too, but I’ll ask Doves [??] if they run a club. But before Xmas there’s Michael’s birthday to think about. The one thing he’s nattering about now is a crane. I know the sets you mean – your mother gave Wendy one from which she made the little dog. But personally I think they are dear because you are “done” by the picture on the box. There is only material for making one toy and two more small items and the profit on these sets must be terrific. Beware of all handiwork or sewing outfits. I have seen things for 7/11 which if you added up the present value of each bit of cotton etc. would come to a bob. What exactly was the “kitchen set”? Yes, I think Michael would like a tool set but I haven’t seen any for a long time.
The Oliver family had a lucky miss, didn’t they! Which only goes to prove the strength of any argument against sleeping in parks!
I still haven’t found your identity disc, but I’ll go on looking and I will let you know if it turns up before I send this letter. Are you sure it’s not in any of your pockets? Let me know exactly where you last remember having it. Where did you put it when you first changed into civvies? I don’t remember seeing it about the bedroom at all.
That seems to be all for tonight, love. As you say, I’m not suffering from night starvation now! Many thanks, darling. Those short hours, lovely as they are, do whet our appetite for something less compressed. Well, it shouldn’t be long now and maybe we’ll be in Wales together after all, which will be the first time since our honeymoon, won’t it? You can take me up into them thar hills!
I’m itching to get at the typewriter again. I’ll try to get a couple of things away before the holiday though I don’t suppose I’ll be able to settle down to it properly until after we come back. But I’m looking forward to this winter, with the children asleep at a decent hour, and the evenings longer and less likely to be interrupted.
Now I must mend some pants for Michael and if there’s still time will start a letter to Jane.
Night, my sweet. I love you so much.
All my love, angel,
Stella

Friday. Just read your letter and so am all sick in my heart at the moment. My thoughts are all confused at present but I do hope you get leave first. In case you don’t, take care of yourself darling and remember I shall be with you every moment. I shall be watching for a wire all day. No good debating all the possibilities now. Look after yourself, sweet.

From Michael to Arthur: ‘thre was a funny little man at the circus’

Aug 121944
 

Saturday
Dear Daddy
I am in the third class. The teacher is Miss Mitchell. Thre was a funny little man at the circus. Thre was a zoo with lions and a fox and a rat bigger than Tigr.
Love from Michael.

From Stella and Michael to Arthur: ‘if someone had told us that on our eighth anniversary you would be serving in France and I would be expecting my third child, how black the future would have seemed’

Sep 121944
 

Tuesday
Home
Sweetheart,
I’m writing your letter in bed tonight because it is already after nine and I’ve been on my feet all day. I’m not more than usually tired but it’s nice to be writing to you in bed, all comfy, with nothing else to do except shut my eyes! And if I do this now and again for heaven’s sake don’t get into your head that I’ve come to bed early because I’m ill or anything! If your letter is being written late evening it’s quite likely I’ll make a habit of this, for it’s a certain way of avoiding the evening attack of sickness. Looking after myself, that’s all!
The party went off well and as usual I found it far less exhausting than Wendy’s. Officially it was for males only, but, for various reasons, I included Cynthia, Valerie, and Isobel. I left these invitations fairly late to avoid other complications. The few boys seemed such a handful, not a proper party at all. Cynthia would have been coming to call for Wendy for Brownies at six in any case. Although Mrs G quite agrees with my idea of simplifying things by keeping Michael’s party to boys, she always gives him a present, and I always wish she wouldn’t because it makes me feel sore about not asking Val. Also it’s a bit awkward borrowing chairs from there when I haven’t asked Valerie! So, there being good reasons for including these two, I asked Isobel so that Valerie might not be left high and dry when the other two girls went at six. No doubt there is some bad feeling in the Perry and Threlful camps but I just couldn’t have coped with that rabble today. Another factor that made me include the girls was the certainty of Wendy not having even an apology for a party next April! So there were ten children altogether including our own, and this I found a nice manageable number – the Winters, Roy and Brian, Stanley, Johnnie, Cynthia and Valerie. It was Brian’s very first party – he’s two – and he was a scream. He doesn’t talk at all yet but he sat with a real sweet smile steadily pushing stuff back, and behaved perfectly. When Mrs Hawley came to take him home he pushed her firmly away and she had to leave him until the others went. As usual Stanley got right under my skin. In fact he was downright cheeky and I sat on him good and proper. But apart from that everything went off well. Your mother was here to see the start of the tea and was highly delighted when I lit the candles and cut the cake earlier than usual so that she could take a slice home with her. That reminds me – I saw Mrs Allen this morning and she did not receive your letter, so where it went is a mystery! Your mother got your letter this morning.
I enclosed two blades in the letter I posted today, and I’ll get your badges in town tomorrow so if they’re not enclosed in this letter it will mean they were out of stock.
I seem to have answered last night’s second letter except to say I’m looking forward to seeing the buttons and ribbons. The ribbons will be handy for baby clothes! Now I’ll go on to your Welsh letter, which had done some wandering. Although that was the address I was given several letters were sent to Caernarvon first and the secret seems to be to write “near Mold”. I must say you’re terribly helpful on the subject of names!! You were very firm about one of your children having Arthur among its names but now you condemn it as some outlandish notion of mine! Why, oh why? Some time, please, love, make me out a short list of names you like. This is a thing we’ve got to decide between us before all the relations start having a shot! You didn’t say what you thought of Katherine. I would have this spelt KATHREN, not to be snooty but to avoid Kath-er-een which I loathe.
There’s no point in pursuing the apple subject any further. The best aspect of it is that it’s made a definite break with Peter. He must have got wind of the affair for he hasn’t been near here since. Don’t worry about Michael, I’ve got him well in hand. He’s really very good especially when I remember what a difficult child he promised to be. You always have these problems when a small boy gets in older and bad company. It was no use my telling Michael that Peter was not his devoted friend. He had to be shown and this business brought things to a head and finished an alliance that caused me endless worry.
Well, love, my eyes are closing so I’ll leave your second letter till tomorrow. I’m feeling the benefit of these early nights and I’m sleeping splendidly. Eight years ago today we said our first goodnight in bed. If someone could have told us then that on our eighth anniversary you would be serving in France and I would be expecting my third child, how black the future would have seemed. And yet it hasn’t been, has it? And even out of separation we have gained a great deal. And I know we have good years ahead. Despite your doubts I look forward to the post-war years with keen interest because, whatever else happens, it won’t be a time of stagnation.
Goodnight, dear love. Maybe next year I won’t be in a lonely bed. My sweet, I love you so much.
Always your own,
Stella

Home
Dear Daddy,
Thak you for the birthday card. I will braw a picture of my cran. There was a very cross pig at the farm called Johnny. We watched the farmer milking the cows.
Love from Michael

From Stella & Wendy to Arthur: ‘I always get home quite faint and weak with hunger and a bit of chocolate will make a world of difference’

Sep 141944
 

Thursday
Home
Dearest,
I was going to skip your letter tonight and get some arrears made up to other people, as there is not much news and I have been two days without a letter from you. But the parcels containing your gear arrived today and I thought you’d be getting anxious about them and would like to know they were safe at the first possible moment.
Wendy spent the entire evening on the enclosed masterpiece! It’s by far the longest letter she’s written, isn’t it? The cryptic sentence near the end means that they have, at school, a window-sill full of autumn fruits – I think you’ll be able to make out the rest of it. I did intend going to the first house pictures tonight to see ‘Fanny By Gaslight’ but Michael is a bit off-colour so I decided to stay at home. It was pouring with rain in any case. I don’t think he’s “getting” anything – it looks like a chill to me, cold in the head with a bit of temperature and headache, but nothing to worry about. He’ll probably sleep it off, as he has done before. He slept soundly in the chair while Wendy was doing the letter.
We received a very welcome present today of some chocolate and biscuits. The children were delighted and so was I for I’ve been wishing I had a bit of chocolate to keep in my pocket for my journeys to South Road. I always get home quite faint and weak with hunger and a bit of chocolate en route will make a world of difference.
I picked all the really full-grown tomatoes today and brought them in to ripen. I thought this would give the rest a better chance to fill up as there is very little growing time left now before the frosts start. The ones I have picked amount to about seven pounds and are very good and solid, though I doubt whether we will average as much weight per plant as last year. No-one seems satisfied with their tomatoes, indoor or outdoors, this year.
I had a word with Mrs Griling [??] about the wool position some days ago. The real baby wool is reserved strictly for baby-coupons, born or expected, as it should be. The trouble is that you don’t get these coupons till quite well on – the Board of Trade don’t want to give coupons to possible “misses” obviously. But I knew Mrs Griling would take my word for it. The baby wool issue came in today so she let me have some on our ordinary coupons – the first thing I’ve bought for this baby! I’ll get everything I need there for she is very good at keeping the scarce things for anyone expecting a baby and it will pay me to give her all the business I can.
Michael has just woken up protesting hunger and is now quietly singing, so there’s not much wrong with him now! An aspirin and a sleep always works wonders with Michael.
Well, sweet, that’s all the news today, so I’ll get to bed before I start to feel sick. I’ll let you know whether I get a letter from you in the morning. Night, my boy. I love you.
Always your own,
Stella

Dear Daddy,
the first thing we saw was two pigs. Miss Jones had six cats. a black mother cat with two kittens the same as her. and there was a ginger cat who was 15 and his name is Tiger and has two little ginger kittens too and they were all born on the same week. the tiger family were very wild and they would not let you stroke them. and the black mother cat was going to have more kittens. and the black mother cat used to spit at her kittens whenever they came near her. She had her kittens in the hen house and they had five cats in the farm and the father cat looks after the three kittens more than the mother cat. we have window sil full of orum fruts. and you owe me two letters now
Love from wendy

From Stella to Arthur: ‘what a start – 60 coupons and there’s only my word for it that I’m pregnant for no one’s examined me yet!’

Sep 181944
 

Monday
Home
Darling,
I hoped to get all sorts of things fixed up today but, apart from the Food Office business, I haven’t got much further. I woke up early and feeling fine and we had breakfast nearly finished by eight. This gave me a good chance to get out early to the doctor’s. And then that damned migraine started – it must be best part of a year since I had it before. I was inclined to call the programme off then but I thought it would be a good chance to pick up something for this and any future attacks. I got to the surgery soon after nine and discovered Rees had returned from holiday but was off ill. (As Nowak?? is doctoring him his illness has not, naturally, been diagnosed yet!) For the sake of the certificate for the Food Office I waited and saw Nowak??. By this time the migraine was raging away and Nowak?? looked quite alarmed until I explained that this wasn’t my normal appearance during pregnancy. He gave me some tablets and also the certificate. As he doesn’t know what’s the matter with Rees, he couldn’t say when he’ll be back, so the position is that I’ll see Rees as soon as he’s there again, but if he’s not back in another few weeks I’ll have to be examined by Nowak??
I went into your mother’s but, though the house was open, she and the dog were missing. I took two tablets and sat down for ten minutes, then got the L3 to the Food Office. The tablets did numb my head within half an hour but nothing seems to cure the awful aftermath feeling, which has lingered all day. I won’t be really over that till I’ve had a night’s sleep. At the F.O. I was, to my surprise, given 60 coupons right away – things have speeded up evidently. Tomorrow I’ll get the ration book by post and all the extras start immediately as far as I can make out. What a start – 60 coupons and there’s only my word for it that I’m pregnant for no one’s examined me yet! It just shows what could be done by bluff. I was longing to get home but I thought I’d better go to the W.V.S. which I was passing. There I learned there is no home help organisation for Crosby. They took my address in case they heard of anyone and were as helpful as they could be. They seemed quite concerned about the difficulties of a wartime confinement – nursing homes too expensive, hospitals banned except for special cases, and the difficulty of getting domestic help for a home confinement. They advised asking nurse Wild at the clinic. Another thing I learned was that Gambier Terrace don’t send to Crosby now. I’m not surprised for they are terribly short staffed. All this was not so ‘ot and got me down a bit. I was almost in the mood to walk into Park House and chance picking up twelve quid somewhere but I know I’d just worry myself ill about it. I was annoyed that I hadn’t had the chance to talk the whole matter over with Rees. Also I didn’t want to book a nurse without consulting him but now I can’t leave it any longer. This afternoon I rang up the nurse’s home and discovered that nurse Scott married last April. Then I rang nurse Halsey and there was no reply but I pressed B and got threepence back so I made a penny profit! I’ll have another shot tomorrow and I think she’s almost certain to know of some home-help women. After all there must be hundreds of people in my position and someone must look after them and a maternity nurse is the one to know. She is, by the way, a Lancashire county midwife.
It is foolish these days to expect to have every detail fixed up in a few hours, but I’m a devil for wanting everything cut, dried, and settled. I reviewed the entire home or away subject again today but couldn’t find any new angles on it. I do miss you for discussing all these points.
Tuesday.
Sorry, but at that I fell asleep in the chair! Today I feel better than I’ve felt for weeks. It’s almost as if the migraine throws out all the poisons or summat, for I always feel splendid the day after, but whether it’s worth the price is a debateable point!
Letters from you have been very erratic lately. Y’day I had a letter eight days old. Today I have the ‘farm’?? one telling me you have moved. Last week was a bad one for letters with three blank days. But I suppose the change explains all this and letters will settle down now. Have you had letters containing blades and badges yet? The ‘small parcel’ you mentioned hasn’t arrived yet.
Having been done out of the pictures last week I’m determined to see ‘This Happy Breed’ this week. I might go this evening with Michael, for the first house time coincides with the period Wendy is at Brownies.
The holiday seems so long ago that it’s queer to be receiving and answering letters about it now. No, we didn’t bring any blackberries back. My plan was to give the whole of Friday to that but Friday was the wettest day we had and apart from going to the farm to pay the bill we just loafed about. I’m glad your tummy trouble cleared up so quickly. That reminds me – Mr. Gardner is in hospital with appendix trouble and they’re just making up their minds whether or not to take it out. Apparently he had it before in peacetime.
I’ve meant to tell you before that the rouge I got here proved quite useless. It might show up on an albino but it’s no good on my yellow countenance! So if you see any, snaffle it please!
There is not much to answer in today’s letter but no compez-vous-ing with these dames, my lad! You say to them – “Ma chere femme – elle est enceinte!” That’ll scare them off! It’s a lovely word that. When you read these fascinating novels about the French court they say – “It was whispered that the Duchess of Orleans was enceinte by him”. Now that sounds most intriguing but if they had said – “The Duchess was in the family way” the affair becomes very tawdry, quite common in fact! So lay off those French mamselles and remember your poor enceinte femme and heaven help you if you come home with any positions a la Normandie.
I must wash dishes etc. and go to the nursery where they are digging up my spring cabbage plants today.
Bye, sweetheart, and take care of yourself.
All my love,
Stella

From Stella to Arthur: ‘I felt terribly guilty bringing a baby in to such a world – he used to go stiff and blue whenever the siren practised’

Sep 201944
 

Wednesday
Home
My Darling,
I’m in a humble counting-my-blessings sort of mood tonight. Mrs Perry always has that effect on me and she’s just been pouring out her troubles for a solid hour and telling me how, every time she speaks to you, she could cry with envy because “anyone can see you think the world of me!” That woman’s just at the end of her tether. Dave has succeeded in convincing her that she’s utterly brainless, downright common, the worst possible mother, housekeeper, wife etc. She’s also convinced that Dave will walk out on them one of these days for he’s apparently always threatening it. Have you ever seen Dave in his ‘home’ mood? I saw it for a couple of minutes tonight when he spoke to Betty and there was hatred in that kid’s face. Peter is just cowed but Betty has developed into solid hatred of him. What I can’t understand is how they ever came to marry. They loathe each other. I never really believed it was as bad as that till tonight.
Well, I suppose it is no business of ours, but it does make me realise, very very deeply, how lucky I am and how lucky our kids are. Thanks, precious, for everything you have been and are, and will be, to me. Oh, love, there’s such a lot of things inside me tonight that just can’t be put into words. But I do love you terribly.
The reason why I was at Perry’s tonight is that Mrs Perry offered to come with me to fix up with Nurse Halsey. Dave ran us down there. She’s a very nice woman and I’m sure you’d like her – a rare mixture of efficiency and ‘human-ness’ – none of that awful nurse-starchiness. She seems to have had some experience with Rees and told me about a compliment he once paid her. I’m glad of that for if the doctor and nurse are at loggerheads it can’t be too pleasant for the patient. I didn’t go into a lot of details this evening for Dave was waiting with the car, but one good point is that the ‘county’ include a useful parcel these days, containing all those little items (sanitary towels etc) that run up the bills. Next time I see her I’ll get a proper list of this stuff and see what remains for me to get. Mrs Perry says a dozen baby napkins are included. As these are about 1/3 each I hope she’s right. The all-over charge is, I think, £2-2. One could finish there for there’s no actual need of a doctor with one of these state midwives and Mrs Perry thinks I’m very odd insisting on a doctor as well. I don’t know how you feel about it but I think you’ll agree with me that no child of ours is coming into the world without Rees to yank it out. My confused memories of two confinements have one clear point in them – the moment when Rees walked in. From then onwards I ceased to be bewildered and scared stiff. I do hope he gets better soon. According to your mother today he’s still ill and Nowak still doesn’t know what’s the matter with him. I have no desire whatsoever to have a pregnancy conducted by Nowak – the baby would be cross-eyed and bandy!
Before I leave this subject I got my green ration book today and immediately commandeered an extra pint of milk. I told Mrs Allen at the dairy that she’d put the hoodoo on me and she’s tickled to death. It’s highly blush-making this business of going round to tell the tradespeople one is “expecting a little stranger”. I’ll have to arrange to be served by Hilda this week but there’s no alternative at the butcher’s! In case you don’t know the details, I’m now entitled to: a pint of milk at twopence plus the normal adult allowance, an extra half-ration of meat, oranges when available, orange juice, cod-liver oil tablets, and one extra egg (it used to be two!) Personally I think an extra butter ration wouldn’t come amiss.
The damsons arrived today so I went to your mother’s this afternoon to collect my share.
There’s some involved scheme afoot concerning some man in Wrexham whom your mother has never seen. It seems Geo has undertaken to arrange a meeting and your mother is going there this weekend. I can’t make head nor tail of it. She tried to foist her girl lodger here for the weekend but I contrived to avoid it. I don’t see why I should go changing sheets etc for someone I’ve never seen.
I nearly forgot to tell you how much I enjoyed ‘This Happy Breed’ – a really human picture, splendidly produced. It starts 1918 and finishes 1939 so all the milestones in it were things I could remember – the strike, the King’s death, the abdication, Munich. I’d like to see Coward’s portrayal of this war. It intrigues me how he can be so blasé and sophisticated and yet so expert at these little human touches such as the buttering of the cat’s paws after a removal. Michael seemed to follow it quite intelligently and it led to long explanations of the strike and the abdication, while Munich was pin-pointed by the all-important fact that Michael was born then! Do you remember going for the gas masks the day after I came home? I felt terribly guilty at bringing a baby home to such a world, especially when he used to go stiff and blue whenever the siren practised. I was thinking of this as we came out and then, like a symbol of hope, Michael said, “Oh aren’t they lovely!” and we stepped out into the lighted dark and my Munich baby saw the streetlights for the first time. I’m not ashamed to admit that a large lump came into my throat at that moment.
Thursday.
No letter again this morning. I’ve only had one – the one written on the NAAFI form – all this week. So I’m feeling rather unsettled about you and wouldn’t be a bit surprised to know you were back in England. In fact I’ve got to the stage where I sit up and listen every time there are footsteps in the road at night!
It’s my eating out day and I’ve just arrived home from the B.R. where I filled up the bottomless pit with steak pudding and apple pie. The meals have improved a lot since they started putting on a shilling dinner. I hope the story that they’re all being closed down isn’t true for I’ll need the B.R. this winter. A make-do dinner is no good to me now and if we all feed out just once a week it’s a big help with the rations. I never remember being so fiendishly engrossed with food. I just live from meal to meal and if I read about a nice substantial meal in a book I just writhe in agony!
Bye now, sweetheart. I do hope there’s a letter, or letters, tomorrow.
All my love, darling,
Stella

Normandy
Dearest,
Hope you and the children will like these. Let me know when they arrive and in what condition.
Love, Arthur X

From Stella to Arthur: ‘I haven’t been actually sick once! Aren’t I clever?’

Sep 251944
 

Monday
Home
Dearest,
Your yard of navy material is now a kilt for Wendy. I’ve been at it all evening and it’s now almost finished. I should say skirt, not kilt, for after looking at the utility kilts with their few skimped pleats at each side I decided to make a skirt and found a nice little pattern with shaped sides and a good box pleat back and front.
This has been a real gala day for I received another letter by the afternoon post – a real surprise this, for never before have they arrived in the afternoon from France. So I now have two letters to answer, which is a very pleasant change after the last couple of weeks! Getting these letters has made a big difference and I feel much more settled about you now. Just to get things straight – these letters are dated 19th and 21st.
I’m glad to know that the letter intended for the 12th did arrive then. I had a letter from you that was dated the 12th but you must have got the post after writing it. But from that I came to the conclusion that my letter hadn’t arrived in time and I was annoyed about it.
By now you’ll know that I haven’t succeeded in seeing Rees yet. If I have to see Novak again I’ll ask him if he thinks I should have a course of injections and explain my anaemia history to him. In the meanwhile I’m taking ??fessolates?? on my own authority. My own opinion is that I should have six injections spread out between now and April and another six in the first few months after. That would make up the balance all right. The evening sickness seems to have stopped now so I think the “sick-time” must be over now. And I haven’t been actually sick once! Aren’t I clever? The only thing wrong with me now is that I’m inclined to get tired from eight o’clock onwards, but this is due to the fact that I’ve taken to waking up at 6.30 prompt in the mornings. On the other hand I fall asleep as soon as I get into bed so am not going short of sleep through early wakings. So altogether I’m doing quite well. I’ve always said the middle months of pregnancy were the most comfortable – after the sickness has gone and before the final heaviness starts. It was funny this evening. Wendy – to whom it must be positive agony – has kept the secret splendidly, but Michael has complete lapses of memory. Valerie started to play with those round blocks. “Leave those alone,” says Michael. “We’re saving them for the baby.” Wendy gives him a violent nudge and then smiles ingratiatingly at Valerie. “He means,” she says, “we’re saving them in case we ever get a baby, but, of course, we don’t think we ever will!”
Another incident that amused me was when I found Michael, with wrinkled brow, staring at the surplus egg. “We’ve all had an egg,” he said “so how is there one left?” I told him it was the baby’s egg. “Gosh,” he said, “won’t it be a bit stale by next April?” Chris, by the way, nearly died last Saturday, when Wendy got all confidential with her. “The doctor says April 16th and the nurse says April 15th but Mummy always has babies three weeks late so they’re both wrong.”
It just happens that your mother has only been here when other children are about so nothing has been said yet, but I’m afraid she’s in for a few shocks!
I’m afraid I’ve wandered from your letter but I like to report these things as they crop up. I find the children’s various reactions to this business very interesting, though I fear “disgusting” would be the word in quite a lot of opinions.
I’m glad to hear you seem to be the star turn at French! That’s very good, love, and I’m glad about it because, as has already been proved, it makes contact with the people and their homes so much easier. I was interested to hear about the people with whom you have called on. What are their reactions to all this terrible destruction? Did they really cheer when the R.A.F. kept coming over to blast them to hell? I’ve often wondered what my own reactions would be in those circumstances, but it’s the sort of thing one would have to experience.
As you intended, I am most intrigued about this parcel! I’m also anxious and won’t stop worrying until it has arrived safely because the ‘small parcel’ never arrived and I’ve given up all hope of it now. You’ve made me really curious but I just can’t guess.
Going on to your second letter, I’m surprised that you’re surprised at me having a party for Michael! How far gone do you think I am?
Thanks for telling me all about the paper and its possible future. I’m very interested and hope you will not be thwarted by this bloke wot doesn’t love you. If you get a permanent job there we would know where we were and maybe there’d be more chance of leave than if you were being bunged about all over the place. Anyway, let me know how it goes.
Peaches and strawberries – bah! You dare to mention such things to a pregnant woman! It’s not fair.
That seems to answer all the points in your letters, for which, once again, many thanks.
All my love, darling,
Stella

From an RN Chaplain, News Editor of local paper, and brother: ‘it was never possible to meet him without being conscious of his sunny disposition, his manliness and his engaging candour’

Oct 041944
 

Wednesday
Naval Party 1570, Normandy
Dear Mrs Johnson,
It was my very sad duty this morning to officiate at the funeral of your husband, Signalman Arthur Johnson, R.N. He was laid to rest in the cemetery of Elbeuf, near Rouen, and he is there surrounded by many comrades who gave their lives in this war and in the last. I hope some day you may be able to visit the place where he lies.
A contingent of officers and men were present to pay their last tributes to a respected and mourned comrade and friend, and these included the Flag Captain, the Executive Major of Marines, and his mess-mates.
At a short service in the little chapel we remembered you and your children in your irreparable loss, commending you to the loving kindness of Almighty God, in whom alone is real comfort.
Two large wreaths of fresh flowers cover the grave – one placed there by the ship’s officers, and the other by the men.
I know how great your loss is, and I feel that no words of mine can lighten your desolation, but I do want you to know that my deepest sympathy, as well as that of all officers and men, is extendable to you – particularly that of the ship’s doctors, who, during the two days of your husband’s illness, did all that was humanly possible to save his life.
May God bless you and your children at this time, and give you His own measure of comfort.
I am,
Sincerely yours,
Rev. J MacRurie
Chaplain, R.N.

Liverpool Daily Post & Liverpool Echo
Dear Mrs Johnson,
We have all been deeply grieved to hear of Arthur’s sudden death and the sympathy of his colleagues goes out to you and the children.
Arthur was a fine fellow and we were all very fond of him. We admired him not only for his skill, his readiness and his resourcefulness as a journalist, but for the sterling qualities which made up his character – his courage, his loyalty, his frankness and his capacity for friendship.
He was with us for three or four years only, and the fact that he was constantly on night duty prevented our seeing as much of him as we could have wished. But it was never possible to meet him without being conscious of his sunny disposition, his manliness and his engaging candour. We shall miss him very much.
I write only for myself, but I know that however feebly they may do it, the words I have written express the feeling of everybody here who worked with him.
Yours very sincerely,
F. H. Atkinson
News Editor

Birkenhead
My dear Stella,
I am totally incapable of putting into words how I feel about Arthur’s tragic passing.
It is tragic, because it seems so meaningless to have to go that far just to be stricken with a dread disease. We know that Arthur had no time for heroics and never indulged in them, but we who love him would have chosen some better end for him had we been able. Although I suppose it all adds up to the same total demanded by this seemingly senseless war.
I know that you will take this parting very hardly, and rightly so, but I feel just as sure that when the first shock is over you will be a brave girl and face the future with courage. That’s what Arthur would have wished. He never cared for anyone who wasn’t prepared to see a thing through because he, of all of us, was always prepared to jump out into the unknown and tackle any job which fell to his lot.
We shall miss Arthur greatly. He was like a breath of fresh air at times because he was so much himself and so unorthodox. He never was troubled greatly about the proprieties, but just did what he thought was right for the occasion.
I’m sure that you will miss his company horribly, but you have the consolation of having Wendy and Michael to look after. They will occupy your thoughts and give you an anchor and help you in your loneliness.
Please let me know if there is anything we can do to help you at all. I am sure that you will not wish to be bothered with visitors at the moment, but I’ll call along soon just to see how you all are.
Meantime we all send our fondest love to you and the children and would like you to know how deeply we all grieve Arthur’s loss and sympathise with you in your distress and we pray that you will be given strength equal to the burden.
Affectionately,
Anne & Bert [Arthur’s brother and his sister-in-law]

75 years ago today: my grandparents’ war letters

Feb 102017
 

Arthur, early 1942

75 years ago, my grandfather Arthur joined the Navy. His first letter home was written on 11 February 1942. From tomorrow (Saturday 11 February 2017), I will be publishing his letters – and those of my grandmother and their two children – exactly 75 years after they were written. They tell a love story. They are funny and heartbreaking. They tell how it was to live through the second world war – as a serviceman and as a mother on the home front. It’s all here: Bombs! Sex! What to plant on the allotment!

As his service begins, Arthur is sent to H.M.S. Royal Arthur in Skegness, a converted Butlins holiday camp. He is there to learn naval discipline and soon realises that “one will go along quite well here by doing what one is told”. He is not entirely comfortable on the windswept east coast: “I’m constipated and cold and I’m going to make a supreme effort to cure one of those complaints now.”

You can read the letters at www.arthurandstella.com; Facebook and Twitter will be alerted when new letters are added.

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