1021 DOCKS OPERATING COMPANY R.E.  C.M.F.

My Darling,
Here I go, resolute and sensible, to start an ordinary letter, resisting the speedier airmail letter card, which can go perhaps as a subsidiary.    But you shall have your letters.

I began one yesterday, hearing from the Navy that it was permissible to say both country and town we are in, but on checking it with Staff A Area I find that the army are not allowed such privileges.  So I had to scrap the letter which had details of town and country. Anyhow I am well and for the moment detached from the company, having been sent suddenly on Saturday to a town ten miles away, which Head-quarters were occupying fast, to secure a suite of offices, get them furnished, and arrange everything for him to move in to start work on Monday, at nine o’clock and it is now Monday and a quarter to nine. I had half a dozen clerks to help and we found a suite of five offices in the ex Fascist H/Q, the best building hereabouts and got the sign-writer I have busy.    Then we got a truck and with the authority of the Town Major visited a large block of offices, and found an important banking house where Intelligence had opened all drawers and littered papers everywhere, twenty years filing gone to rack and  ruin, but c’est la Guerre.   There we found five handsome desks, one super, glass topped, mahogany and scrolled with Lion’s feet.  That’s the C.O.’s.   Also chairs, filing cabinets, inkstands, marble and handsome, and all that is required. We cleaned, we shifted a three ton lorry load of fascist propaganda from one of the offices, and burned it all in a bombed out building, and cleaned and arranged, and now, hat stand ready, flowers in bowl, drawers stocked with paper and envelopes, pins and clips in place, we await the arrival of the Master.   Hope he likes it.   At the same time the Adjutant has been making the block of flats in good order for the Mess and men’s quarters.   Why me I can’t say, I expect to trundle back to my beloved unit this morning or this afternoon, where I belong.   Great teasing by Cliff and the subs when I went, Cliff polished my desert rat dusty cap and said it must shine for an H/Q wallah. But its just that the Colonel thought I could scrounge well I expect.   Mine not to reason why, but its been fun. Also I was a little homesick for 1021 alone with talkative Jimmy James in the flat the night before last, but last night I did the talking, Shakespeare, Leonardo, books etc. so I was happy and thought a lot more of him.

In the offices I found piles and piles of letters and took stamps for Frank Sadgrove, I hope they are the sort he wants.    Some were the Leonardo issue, when his Show was on in Milan, some Hitler and Mussolini together, to celebrate their meeting at some time or other, or the Axis, and Wolf ones with Rom and Rem drinking, and so on.

It rained in the night, real showers, fast ones, and the scent was delicious, the thirsty dusty earth, with no rain for four or five months, gave thanks in the most exquisite way.   I went onto the little balcony – the ever present balcony, and breathed it at one o’clock, while twenty five pounders roared and rattled and echoed against the hills.   War and peace indeed.

Poor Dickie, yelling of nights, or was that only when he was young?   Don’t be cross with him, he just feels that way and he’s had an awful lot to go through these past eleven months.   He’ll settle down. Keep him busy in the day time and a tired body and a contented mind will bring sleep. Are your agents trying to get me the penguin Shakespeares?   Try Mr. Kelly say its for me and give him my good wishes personally.   Failing that the World’s Classic ones the little green ones,   I do need them.

How about the costume, the tweed and the shoes? Of course you can’t go out, your tied to Dickie’s apron strings.    Unless you sit down in the Midland Educational and proceed with luncheon a la continentale.       But do get your tweeds made and tell me how they come out.    If you write to MACINTYRES,  INVERARAY, ARGYLLSHIRE and ask them and send coupons you can have others, but they don’t send samples I fear, they might to you.  Its difficult.    But I’d love to think of you in your new tweeds and shoes.   You’re such a handsome, pretty, proper person so well worth dressing expensively.    And buy some more pretties and dainties. Oh, have you reverted to the original shape or has a vacuum remained with you still your sweet pregnant portly self. You carried your future in the most delightful way, never self conscious, always cuddly and sweet. Cuddly and very sweet, very cuddly and very very sweet.

Has Candy decided about the dry bone question yet? The last bulletin was that she was going to think it out and seek precedents. I’d love to be there. Let me see, Dickie today, is nine weeks and three days old.    Getting on. Don’t let him get too old before I come back, brake it a little.    The doc was saying that if a child sees its father for the first time after it is two it never really associates him with the real family circle but always sees him as a stranger.    I know that is so at five, me and Skipper, but maybe we can leave it until three.    I’d like to be there as a growing awareness develops.    Anyhow, I ought to be able to let him feel I’m not too much of an outsider.    Because I’m not.

Don’t go and fall in love with an airman or a policeman or a handsome farmer who’s wife doesn’t understand him.    I don’t understand you no one could, you have that extra wonderfulness deep buried in your heart and soul.    But I’d kill the man so calmly and then go and get hanged and you’d be Free To Marry Again, but the one you wanted would be just as dead as me and where would little Dickie be, so it is better please not to fall for any of your multitude of admirers. Poor miserable devils that they are.   I think we’ll have a My Wife’s Admirers Club, and a My Wife’s Lovers Society   and have a house party and I’ll rove with my .38. Yes, light headed my sweet but happy when writing to you.

Has Dickie been on the Dragon-fly Ford walk yet? He was to be taken.  I wonder if you drive a pram as charmingly as you do everything else. Kerbs or curbs are the trouble I believe, and sharp cornering.    Oh, tell me, as cattily as you like, how the Harrisons have reacted.    Its amazingly what little impact they make on our lives, semi-detached to us, and yet there’s nothing to report, there never was.    But I m so grateful to the real friends, Marjorie and Uncle Jack and Eileen, in her coy efficient way. She probably loved doing the cable.

No mention of money, I do hope you are making things go, paying rent, butcher baker arid candlestick maker – not a lot of bills to the latter I shouldn’t think, our dear S. w. and S, and so on.    I have a feeling there’s a raise in the air but one can’t rely on that at all.  Just wait and see and I’m torn between wanting money for you and Dickie and some in the bank to start off with afterwards, and the affection I have for the unit, the homely familiar life with them.   But it is obvious which is the logical and common sense course to take if the opportunity comes.   Money in the bank, or no debt after the war for the renaissance of author ship would be a great help and encouragement.

You often mention and to me it is very vivid, the sweet duskiness of the village as you write in bed, now it’ll be dark when you go to bed and the ivory light will make our room soft and sweet and home.    I gather you and Dickie are in our bedroom now, or rather, your bedroom. Is the Klaus room used at all?  For your many visitors?   Did Klaus and Atkinson come to tea? I’m getting to understand Fascism a lot. German prisoners are odd things.    They sit in a row on the beach waiting to be shipped over to North Africa and watch L.S.T. disgorge tanks, armoured cars, trucks, vehicles by the hundred up the beach and away to the front, they watch L.C.I, disgorge company after company of cheerful tough brown men all perfectly equipped, and they don’t believe it.   They say the ships in the bay are to take our men and machines away, and think we have this parade onto the beach for their benefit. They think they go up to the coast road, along and down to the next beach and out again!   They were told we were beaten and driven off and they won’t believe otherwise. Two battleships, three cruisers and half a dozen destroyers were bombarding inland at the same time, and they declared that we must be in a desperate state to have our entire navy at one place. Hopeless.

I had a long talk and shall have more with an Italian Naval Lieutenant who is interpreting for us, and taking the colonel and me out to buy wines, and he is a genuine anti-fascist.   His views are genuinely pro British and he said the thinking people were all quite confident even in 1940 when Britain was alone, that she would come up and smash the Axis.   He’s so sad that his lovely Italy is being made a battle ground as it is. The Germans are ruining Naples he says, and will do the same to Rome as they are driven out.

So Bobby is still writing his plays.   We must not judge Bobby harshly, he is a lost floundering soul, his course of action fogged by too many words and too many ideas,   He dreads and jeers at Capital Letters and Slogans, and muddles his mind with a lot of ideas which are equally unoriginal really.   And he wouldn’t be very much use as a soldier, even in so ungallant an affair as Transportation.

It was jolly of Uncle Jack to give John a present of woolly clothes.   And a pixie hat.

Does your mother like Richard John?   Oh shall we call the next Ronald James, and the next Ralph Joseph, and the next Reginald Jerry and have them all R.J.S.D. and worry them at school. Save a lot of money is suit case lettering and Cash’s labels.

I’ve just remembered your little laugh, when you read or see or think of a Little Joke, its sweet and brings a lot back to me.   And that lovely reminder you gave me of “I’ve burned my finger. . . . . . . . . rather badly”.

A sweet thought, mentioned in one of the gorgeous batch of letters, that people perhaps envy you a little having me in these rather over-dramatised invasions. Its nice if you are given credit but between you and me, and tell no-one, its all very gentle and more like Southend on sea with the tide in than Waterloo.    If Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton, Italy will have been one on the beaches of Blackpool.   We are so boaty, Ratty’s delight.

Rolf’s letter was most Rolfish, he is jealous as can be, poor dear.   Still there you are. But never believe “OUR ARTIST’S IMPRESSION” or the pictures in the Illustrated and so on, nor the BBC’s innuendos, they step it up such a lot, bless them, for our benefit I suppose.

Yes, they tell me camels bite and scorpions, but the only bite we had was in Tripoli when Tommy was playing with a ridiculous pot bellied puppy and got bitten in play and the dog was proved rabid and Tommy had twelve injections in his tummy and was watched for growling. The puppy died. Tommy’s all right.  Camel would bite in a methodical quiet way and should be dodgeable, still no more camels.

Oddly enough the tales I’ve told you are true, but you are quite right to be suspicious of the Arab dancing party with little Sala.    But that was true, word for word, they became a friend of mine, or vice versa and there it was.    The camel was tethered, kneeling, his right front leg strapped, round thigh and leg as it were. I’ve not adorned yet, I will.

Two or three, three, rather good pictures in the flats we live in, large prints of famous ones I do not know, all women’s heads, one looking at a baby you can’t see. If I hadn’t a stupid prejudice against taking things from other people’s homes I could have had them.   Also a large box of oils and a beautiful palette.    I took that, but went and returned it.   I imagined our home left, all higgledy piggly and other people taking things.    I’ll try to buy   “Something I picked up in Italy” in due course.

Don’t the Spencers keep PUNCH to be bound?   I would try to keep them and bring them back but I’d rather distribute them to the Mess and then Hospitals.    I’d love to have it to see how the war is going, also to get ideas perhaps for little things myself.

No Colonel and its ten o’clock, maybe he’s up at the Mess with Jimmy who cut his foot on glass yesterday and is laid up the poor dear.   He’s a young man of great personality, left seventy thousand pounds by his father and lives nicely in Devonshire in a large house and collects tankards, pewter glass and furniture.   He is a clever chap, intelligent and go ahead, but a bit spoiled by money.    I get on with him and he seems to be fond of me, but people dislike him, they’re jealous of his terrific pull with the Colonel -he’s been Adjutant for a year – and also of his verve.   He does talk a lot and is an egotist, but harmless and can be tamed.    He’s lanky and played good rugger once, wears glasses and dresses very well.   Good at Getting Things Done and seeing higher ups about things.    Too familiar with his batman though I think.    Still Jimmy’s all right there is much good mixed with his conceit.   He has got better these past three days we’ve been together here. Or I’ve got to see his better points and he’s stopped showing off to me. He’s liveable on the whole.   But not like my sweet fond Peter, my Dumb careful and kindly Allan and the playboy commander Clifford Grainger.    Boohoo…perhaps I go back to them this afternoon.

He’s come, so I d better say bye bye, though I would like to write on.   He likes his offices anyhow, now I’ll see what I’m to do.   Go back maybe to my nice homely company.

Oh, civilians.   We see very few, its all soldiers, the civilians have gone before, but in towns you get some, the better sort are away still.  They seep back. But they are just very Italian, not poor as the Sicilians, and better dressed, but the labour is weak and only work half a shift to the British whole shift, and they are so excitable, small and simple.   Affable though. The wee children have two words of English, Chocolata and Ciagaretto, with which they assail you wherever you go.

Piazza is Square not Place.

Bye bye for a while, perhaps I’ll add more later, perhaps I’ll have to go some place and then I’ll finish it. No, better call it off. So with all my love, & thoughts & dreams, & blessings to you & that son of mine. I think so much of him. Do make drawings. Perhaps some are on the way. Ever. David