大象传媒

HMS Barham 鈥� Period Between Bardia and Matapan, 1941

These letters were written after the bombardment of Bardia but before Matapan. My father, Surgeon-Commander E.R.Sorley, RN was the Principal Medical Officer and during this period wrote numerous letters to my mother. Extracts from these give an insight to life on the ship, frustrations about delivery and censorship of mail, feelings about the progress of WW2 and the cost of going ashore.

12th January, 1941: Diversions when in harbour

鈥淚 have been getting ashore a lot recently. When I am not playing tennis, or taking my French lessons, my favourite diversion is to frequent the silence-room of the Club, where for hours I remain engrossed in one or other of the books I have always wanted to read. You, knowing how fond of books I am, can understand how I appreciate the Library at the Club, where wrapped in stillness and silence (broken only occasionally by the tinkle of a tea-cup or the snore of a somnolent officer), I can get down to serious reading.

Always my fondest love, to you and to my dear Graeme and Dansie. It is impossible to forecast our movements, but there is always the hope that 1941 may carry me home to you.鈥�

21st January, 1941: Alexandria 鈥� hungering for news from home

鈥淚 am still living on hope having had no news of you since your cable of 1st December - but I am consoling myself that the old saying hold true "No news is good news.鈥� Life with me flows fairly smoothly, with the occasional eddies and swirls of disturbance in the stream. I was talking to Gerry Weldon a few days ago (he was over to lunch) and he told me that a nasty bomber made a nuisance of itself one evening at Llandovery. It apparently attacked the station and goods yard - a very mean and puerile target, it seems - and caused some damage, but no casualties. I suppose, though, you have heard all about this. The 鈥淕ermans鈥� have been making nuisances of themselves too, in the Mediterranean with their dive bombing attacks on Malta and on ourselves, but they are paying pretty dearly for their temerity. We must face up to them and smash them down. HMS Illustrious put up a good show; the casualties amongst the officers were not severe, I gather. It was a tragic happening, the sinking of HMS Southampton; there the casualties were more serious, but I cannot naturally go into details.

I hunger for a word - every word - but nothing ever comes. Does that sound like self-pity? I hope not, for there is nothing more "pitiful.鈥� I am very cheerful all the time, but naturally this silence is to me a bad thing, and I'm sure you can understand my feelings.鈥�

27th January, 1941: Alexandria

鈥淲e had hopes of a mail a few days ago but as usual they were dashed, and we are looking forward to another chance early in February. It is a great pity that the authorities cannot do something better about mail for our ships, because a regular mail service would have a marvellous effect on morale. Not that there is anything wrong with the morale; it is magnificent; but I feel that the powers that be would be amply repaid if they took steps to institute a dependable mail "service.鈥� The problem, however, is a difficult one, and many other more serious things have to be considered first. We should, I suppose, fit ourselves with the mentality of Nelson's sailors, who could not hear of their people for months, maybe years on end. I wonder if my letters have been reaching you all right. At the very worst, a few should trickle through.

We have had a fairly long spell at sea, so I, for one, am glad to get back to harbour routine for a little - to get some exercise and some innocent diversion. The 鈥淕erman鈥� dive-bombers have been a bit of a menace in the Mediterranean, but as the B.B.C. would say "considering the extent of the attack", they have not been very successful. We should be able to master them all right.

It looks as if Italy has reached the end of her tether, and all that remains for her is German occupation - a very grim outlook - for her. I see that even Ansaldo(1), hitherto an ardent victory bleater, has hinted at a British victory and says that if we win the war, the Italian nation will relapse into a company of hotelkeepers and waiters. One is tempted to say "where's the relapse?鈥�

The weather is much warmer now and soon I feel we may be returning to white uniforms again. Last night for the first time for months we had the cinema on the quarter-deck - a little chilly, but pleasant in comparison with the pea-soup atmosphere of the Wardroom on some occasions.鈥�

Note: (1) Italian political journalist and writer, supporter of Mussolini

28th January, 1941: Alexandria

鈥淭oday the weather has gone back a bit; it is colder and is blowing fairly hard. I had some grand exercise yesterday, when I played six sets of singles. My opponent was too good for me, but we had a deal of running about.

I sent a letter to brother Herbert a few days ago by the hand of an Indian Sub.Lieut (E) who has been with us for several months, and who has just left in the hopes of returning to Bombay in the near future. We have had one or two changes in the Wardroom. Roger Armstrong went home just before Christmas - he of the broad irresponsible humour - and he was followed not long after by young Harrison, the Marine, who was relieved by a lanky youngster called Corrie. A nice lad, whose chief physical characteristic is the possession of feet about as large as violin cases; I believe he takes size 13 shoes! Somebody the other day, viewing his clad feet, asked him politely if his boots were really filled entirely by feet.鈥�

2nd February, 1941: Alexandria

鈥淒鈥�..d cold. Still the cold is only relative and if we were at Scapa (Flow) or somewhere nearer home, I feel I would-be bulging up my reefer with my leather coat underneath and would be achieving a fug in my cabin with the electric stove.

You will be glad to hear that he (Hearson) agrees with me now that Germany will lose the war all right, but the process will be long. He feels (as I do) that Hitler will drive through Bulgaria, but he would not like to forecast the Turk and Russian reactions. He thinks that invasion of the British Isles will fail. He was loud in his praises of Churchill's broadcast, saying that it was a very fair commentary on the present situation and as a piece of oratory the finest he had ever heard. George Pitts, who is our prime pessimist in the Mess, keeps very silent these days

I do not expect any letters from you for another month or so, and I must reconcile myself to this dreary prospect.鈥�

To be continued

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