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Extracts from Arthur’s letters to his wife, Gladys, April - August 1943

2-4-43 Well darling all being well I shall see you again in just over one week and how happy I shall be then…Of course I don’t yet know how long a leave I shall get but even a short leave will be acceptable. It is awful being separated when I love you so much and want always to be with you. One day, however, when the war is over we’ll be together never to be separated again and then we’ll have our dogs and children and lots of other nice things won’t we darling.

It’s a good thing really that the army so fully occupies our time so that there isn’t time to stop and dwell upon our unhappy lot. Unfortunately you, poor girl, are not so occupied and I know it is rotten for you dearest. You must think about all the good times we’ve had and remember that they will come again in the future.
5-4-43 I haven’t much news to relate as I wrote to you last night but thought it might
cheer you up if I wrote you again. It’s 8 p.m. and I’ve just washed and shaved and am sitting on my straw bed penning this letter to you.

It was a glorious evening yesterday and I went for a walk along the front. The sea was very calm and the air was soft and balmy like a mid-summer evening and all Cromer, military and civil, was taking the air. Then I walked to the station, leaving the large hotels and the town and passing through green meadows and nicely laid out houses with pretty gardens. Rock plants flourish here and that blue and white plant which we trained over the shelter at Enfield is very popular and is grown abundantly. In the woods one finds daffodils growing wild and they look lovely. Daffodils are only 9d a bunch here — what a pity they can’t be posted. The countryside is at its best now and I’m sure you’d enjoy the places around Cromer. It’s awfully peaceful in the little villages amidst the meadows and ploughland. Every acre of land not defiled by the army and other services is under cultivation except the woods and marshes where cultivation is impossible.

Today was warm and sunny like a summers day. This morning we threw hand grenades and had an easy time lying in the woods with the sunshine pouring through the network of branches until our turn came along to go into the firing bay.

This afternoon was on an exercise in which I was borne by a bren gun carrier and they’re awfully uncomfortable things because they run across country riding over all kinds of obstacles. However I managed to become a casualty — only in pretence of course — and laid me down at full length on a comfortable green field and sunbathed.

29-4-43 Yesterday we were on P.T. and were running along the street when five dogs ran before us and would not leave us. They did enjoy themselves barking and leaping around our legs — one was a huge bloodhound. We couldn’t hear what our instructor was saying and finally had to turn back and run away from them but they still followed us. It was amusing and you would have laughed. Our captain has a beautiful white and brown spaniel which nearly always accompanies him.

2-5-43 Well beloved wife the new address shown in this letter will already have informed you that I’ve been shifted to a new billet. I’m now housed in a street which, together with two other streets forms an open square surrounding lawns formerly used as tennis courts. The open side of the square looks straight out to the North Sea. With the exception of one here and there, all these hotels and boarding houses now accommodate troops.

Our present billet consists of an elderly building honeycombed with rooms of varying dimensions, and passages from the basement to the attics. I have a smallish room with two other fellows. Despite the smallness of the room it is far more commodious than the previous quarters and we are very satisfied with it. It is on the third floor and its window faces the square and obliquely to the sea. The sea is no more than 60 yards away and the sound of the waves lulls us to sleep at night. The beds are single iron bedsteads with steel spring mattresses and are in consequence far superior to any others I’ve slept in since my entry into the army.

This morning we’ve swept and scrubbed our room and are now quite comfortably ensconsed on our beds writing home to our loved ones. It’s a beautiful day and as I glance out of the window the place looks quite attractive. Directly in front of me is the green and behind that the sea; the sun shines from a cloudless azure sky and the waves lap gently on the shore. It’s very reposeful, but the serenity is rather destroyed at this moment by the sound of the guns — at all times of the day the guns are firing because there are a number of training units here.

Well darling I expect you’ve heard enough about this billet but it’s a great relief to have a few moments free from duty and to sit back and write a letter in comfort. There are no other duties today and our scrubbing finished before dinner time.

3-5-43 I am seizing the opportunity to write you a letter although there isn’t much I can tell you since I wrote yesterday afternoon and it’s now only just past dinner time. However I’ll tell you as much as there is to relate as there appears to be no work to prevent me writing at the moment.

After I’d concluded my yesterday’s letter I read for a while until tea time at 4 p.m. When tea was over we went for a walk by the sea as far as a little village named East Runton. This was such a peaceful place of red brick and grey stone buildings with pretty gardens, and a village green with a pond and geese waddling aroundl also a goat and a pony were grazing on the green and the only people to be seen were a few old salts in blue jerseys and caps. We wandered around the few streets of this village admiring the flower gardens and enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

This place is like a rest cure after what we’ve been through recently and is very welcome to us all. I don’t suppose it will last very long though — good things never seem to last long do they sweetheart?

Arthur had some leave sometime at this point.

5-6-43 Thanks for the offer of more food dearest but I think that for the time being it is inadvisable to send me any parcels. We shall be on the move again on Friday or Saturday of this week so I shall not write any more letters until I can give you my new address. I don’t know where we are going of course but don’t be anxious — we still have to be put in a regiment before we can be sent overseas. I will write you immediately upon my arrival at my destination.

I’ve been doing very little here since I last wrote to you, except scrubbing and cleaning the billets. You see there’s no other work to do: we are merely quartered here to make way for another intake at the training camp and have no facilities here for training. That’s why we are sent away so quickly. We finish work after tea at 4.30 each day so have plenty of time in the evenings.

Arthur left Cromer and was sent to Woolwich before embarkation to Africa and Sicily. The next few letters are undated.

This is my third letter since I left Woolwich — the first was in a special green envelope and I’ve no doubt you had this shortly after my departure. Unfortunately I’m not permitted to date my letters so that I will number them which will enable you to put them in sequence should you receive several together which is very likely.

Not that I can say much that will be interesting for security reasons, but I know that you will like to receive as many letters as possible even though there may be nothing new in any of them for a while.

It is xxxxxx [here the censor has scratched over the day of the week] afternoon — that much I may say — and warm and we’re all feeling somewhat drowsy. I’ve just washed one or two things and am now racking my brains to think of interesting things to say without falling foul of the censor.

I’m wondering how you are spending the afternoon darling. Possibly you will be resting [Gladys was pregnant] or knitting or perhaps preparing the tea. The tea here is not very good, being rather watery, but the food is quite satisfactory and we get many luxuries to which we have so long been unaccustomed: we had two oranges yesterday, an apple and a 2 oz bar of chocolate. Today we have had tins of pears: all these extras we buy of course but very cheaply.

Needless to say I miss you awfully and miss that anticipatory feeling I’ve always enjoyed hitherto in the knowledge that a leave would become due in so many months or weeks. However we must keep cheerful sweetheart — the good times will come again, and, as the war seems to be entering upon its final stages, perhaps I shall be home sooner than you anticipate. We must live in hopes for a while dear wife — our day will come again, and we’ll make up then for all we’ve missed during these war years. God bless you dear.

8-8-43 At last I am able to write to you again sweetheart. I cannot write as often as I would like because I’m constantly on the move. You mustn’t be unhappy if my letters are delayed. So far I haven’t been in any single camp for more than 2 consecutive days.

Well darling I’ll now satisfy your curiosity as to my present location since I understand it’s permissible to mention it. We yesterday disembarked at a place in Sicily — and learnt that fighting has ceased here and that the Italian government has again resigned.

Our quarters are in a lemon grove and we sleep at the foot of lemon trees but unfortunately the lemons aren’t yet quite ripe. However, there is a vineyard where the grapes are ripe and also ripe almonds and pomegranates, so we don’t lack fruit.

Our food is mostly bully beef, bacon, biscuits, rice and dried fruit supplemented by the fresh fruit of course. The greatest luxury here is still a cup of tea than which there is nothing more refreshing however hot the climate.

We’re seeing some awfully interesting places and vegetation. In Africa there were cactus and palms growing in the sand just as we’ve seen them growing in Kew Gardens and even these make me home sick because of their association with the Gardens. It’s strange how a little over a month ago we were interestedly looking at these plants and now I don’t give them a second glance they are so common here.

How is everyone at home? Wish I could send you some fruit …every time I eat fruit I think how much you would like some. It seems all wrong to eat it when you cannot get any but if we didn’t do so I suppose it would rot and sometimes when we are travelling our rations don’t arrive so we need it.

Don’t worry about me dearest wife as I’m safer here than you are in London — how I long to be there, there’s no place like it but it’s because you are there that it attracts my thoughts so constantly. Because I miss you so much I’m not very interested in the places through which I pass on my travels. After the war, if we have the money after we’ve bought our house and dogs, I’ll bring you to some of these places.

10-8-43 It’s as good as being at the zoo as one sees so many animals. In Africa I saw camel caravans with their Arab porters, beautiful Arabian horses, asses no larger than Alsatian dogs bearing their masters and their bundles of merchandise, lizards and giant beetles: wild goats and mountain cattle. On the last ship they had as a mascot a beautiful gazelle.

Under our lemon trees we erect bamboo structures and shade ourselves from the sun which is extremely hot during the day as the average temperature is 87°. Our water is drawn from an old well for washing but all drinking water is carefully chlorinated and is quite safe to drink.

We wear our tropical clothes which we wash as frequently as possible since they quickly become sticky and unpleasant in this climate. We have no work to do saving odd fatigues as we still have to be posted to a unit.

12-8-43 I’ve just finished a fatigue — collecting the rubbish around the camp — and am sitting on my kitbag penning this letter beneath the shade of my blankets which are draped upon bamboo canes. The sun is hot but it’s fairly cool in the shade. The flies buzz around one incessantly but I’m smoking my pipe and this keeps them at bay.

Well darling I can now say a little more about the voyages which brought me to this island. Not that there’s much to relate since nothing untoward occurred. Firstly we travelled on a first class liner but owing to the large number of troops on board it was awfully stuffy below decks at night and mealtimes. We had the freedom of the decks at other times. In a compartment as big as the area around your house about 80 would sleep and eat and have all their kit. Not very comfortable of course but there’s a war on so we didn’t grumble — much. To compensate we had good meals with fruit and other special rations and saw a number of interesting sights.

Missed seeing Gibraltar which we passed in the night but saw the lights of neutral Tangiers making a dazzling display and a wonderful sight after seeing so many blacked out cities in the U.K. At Algiers we disembarked and here our second voyage began. Algiers is like the picture we saw of it — how little I then thought to see the place in reality. .. Then we transhipped to another vessel but only for a short journey as we disembarked at Phillipville further down the coast. Stayed there a night, then were transported in cattle trucks — 32 men with all kit in each — throughout that day and night. It really was hot travelling slowly through the desert towards the interior. The journey terminated in a march from the station to the camp at Chateaudun not many miles from the Sahara Desert. Stayed there two days, then with only 4 others of my original crowd was sent back to Phillipville and shipped here.

Yesterday afternoon I had a treat: I went to a nearby camp and heard a wireless set broadcasting the news from London. Here I learned that the fight for the island appears to be in its final phase around Messina. Well it can’t last much longer. All is peaceful where I am and life is awfully monotonous — no cinemas nor canteens, no wireless nor newspapers and no books to read.

18-8-43 You will have heard that the fighting is now ended and Sicily is ours which is a fine achievement and should spell the early downfall of Italy and thus bring the war nearer its conclusion.

Well darling I am still sunning myself and doing little else though this morning I had a cookhouse fatigue — carrying water and collecting wood for the fire.

I am missing you terribly sweetheart and shall be so relieved to hear from you but I don’t know when any mail will reach us. Some people here haven’t had mail for 3 months! At all events my letters should be reaching you so you will know I am well and safe.

19-8-43 I’ve told you more or less what it’s like here in my various letters. There’s the harbour where we disembarked with the city all around it. Apart from numerous barbers’ shops the only stores now open sell just bric-a-brac and, of course, fresh fruit. The local police still patrol the streets and are not disarmed so as far as it’s possible life goes on normally. A few banks are open for business but don’t appear to be at all busy. The streets are extremely dusty with a fine white dust which parches the throat, hence the large number of bars and cafes most of which are closed or out of bounds to us. One’s boots are always coated by this dust and just walking about the city causes this dust to rise up in clouds and vehicles are always coated in a natural smoke screen.

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