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Letters Home - September 1944 — Part One

Gnr. R. Dalley, O.F.C.
1838809
E Troop,
320/98 H.A.A. Regt. R.A.
B.L.A

Holland
30th September 1944

Dear Mum Dad and Bubs,

I sincerely hope that you are all well and safe. At the moment we have a wireless giving forth lovely sweet music- oh how sweet it seems! Immersed in thought, it reminds me of happy times; and a great longing sweeps over me, a longing to be with you all again. Sometimes I feel as though just a few moments to see you all again would be sufficient; I would then be satisfied.

We have had various rumours about this rocket weapon now being unleashed against ‘Southern England’. I suppose they may ‘accidently’ fall on London though- the newspapers are not explicit to that degree of mentioning nameplaces. But you can rest assured that this new endurance will not have to be bourne for long. Even now we are only a few miles from several V2 sites that have been overrun by us.

One night last week, whilst at the house of my Belgian friends, I was introduced to a great friend of theirs. He could speak very good English, which I found he had learnt during the last war. Throughout that war he served as an Officer of the Belgian Army, and was rejected this time because of his age. But, nevertheless, he has carried on an individual struggle against the Bosche which was only terminated by imprisonment. Many acts of sabotage he has carried out, acts which always carried the maximum penalty of death. Yes! Eventually he was caught, and, as I have said, he served a sentence of five months imprisonment. And he is no youth- far from it! There comes a time, dire in its necessity, when age and youth blend into oneness. They both fight a common enemy, an enemy that is ruthless and callous to the extreme. This same enemy also knows no discrimination between age and youth, people are just picked at random for hostages and reprisals.

You may be astounded to know that your Public Enemy No 1 of Germany is NOT Hitler. He never was and never will be; far from it. True! He was the originator of the Nazi Party and, as such, has remained its leader.

The word FIGUREHEAD has never been so aptly or more appropriately given to a so-called leader. Hitler, if he still lives, is just a showpiece. The very subsistence and method of this regime has now enclosed within its tentacles its leader.

Today, you have the extraordinary situation in Germany of a Gestapo within a Gestapo. Funny enough no doubt! Believe me, Hitler is a mere novice to the organiser! He is a coldblooded maniacal fiend, and even Hitler wilts before him.

Who is this man? None other than the most dreaded man in Europe- HIMMLER!

One little instance: twenty two men were imprisoned as hostages upon Hitler’s orders. The following day Himmler himself arrived upon the scene, waved aside the orders of Hitler, and had the men executed. This man would even purge his leader if the occasion arose- and even at the moment speculation runs wild as to whether Hitler is still a living person.

To go back to my introduction of the Belgian Officer; I made his acquaintance , and to my list has now been added another friend.

We all played whist for the better part of the evening, it being exactly the same version as ours.

It was getting very late but the Officer’s wife asked me to go home with them for a few minutes. Pierre (the brother) came with me to their place, whilst his sister helped her mother with some supper for us on our return.

Perhaps it will cause you some mirth, but they made me wear clogs to walk with. I was wearing slippers indoors and it saved me the trouble of putting on army boots. I was wishing to myself that you all could have seen me strutting down the road in these clogs, I felt as though I owned the town.

Their home was magnificent indeed. The shading outside was of a green and darkish yellow, and their rooms inside were more luxurious and lavishly designed than any I had seen in England. I know the wife wanted my views upon it (probably from an Englishman’s point of view) and I certainly was impressed. Everything was also clean and spotless, a real pleasure to behold.

Apart from all this, I wondered deeply why it was they visited my friends place so often. After all, theirs was a place not so well equipped or so costly, yet they seemed to gather great pleasure in spending the majority of their evenings here.

I feel sure I have hit upon the answer, they are plagued with that curse of lonliness; as unfortunately they are a childless couple. I know that they idolised me.

Suddenly they brought from the cellar a bottle covered with cobwebs and dirt. It must have been there for ages and was amongst one of their most treasured of wines. Needless to say it was brought up in my honour, so I had two glasses of it to the accompaniment of ‘Bon Santé’. A thing of rarity, a huge box of sweets was also brought out to be consumed.

Then I was shown a huge bag of pre-war nickel Francs which the wife had buried in her garden. The soil was still clinging to it as she showed me. She could have got the same value for it in erzatz money, but rather than that the Germans should use it for munitions she hid it. (Of course, if caught she would have had to suffer the penalty).

Eventually we returned home and I slept in a civvy bed that night, returning to camp in the morning before it was properly light. I may add that my sleep was of the divine- lovely white sheets, white pillowcase and even a clean pair of pyjamas for me.

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