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Chapter 12

During those early days how I longed for news of home. Kit had always written to me very regular and now I was missing them more than ever, I couldn’t tell if she knew I was safe or not, whether anything had happened to her in the meantime, supposing it had what would happen to the boys now she was Mum and Dad, a thousand and one things used to flash through my head. As Kit was in South Africa would it have been better to have notified Mum in England and let them pass it on to Kit, how I used to sit and ponder over this. Arthur Woods’ wife was in Durban and there were several South Africans who had been captured in November 1941 and they had not heard at this period, that was 5 months, had I got to wait as long. Mail gradually began to drift through but it was all for (he longer serving prisoner. It used to be issued daily at about midday, a quarter of an hour before the time of issue practically the whole of the camp would assemble in one corner of the quad awaiting the issue. All kinds of rumours used to circulate - big mail this morning or poor mail this morning! A look of expectation on everybody’s face, I realized that I couldn't really expect a letter so early, but used to attend each day, and witness the look of joy on each recipients faces he received his letter or the look of wonderment if he was lucky enough to receive two, the look of disappointment on the faces of the unlucky. I often had a lump in my throat as I turned away unlucky, but nevertheless I was there the next day. I continued to attend; I knew that one day I must be lucky although I used to feel it more each day when I never received one. Until at last one arrived, I was standing very downhearted at the outskirts of the crowd, the small pile of letters had nearly been distributed when POCOCK was called, I was so excited I could not say ‘HERE' and Arthur Woods had to shout for me, now was it from Kit - my heart thumped as it was being passed back - No! it was from Dad in Eastbourne - my heart sank a little, but I knew that it must have news of Kit. I couldn't open it in the crowd I wanted to be out of it and by myself, so I went up to my bed and read and read and read. I felt a different man; this letter would at least last until one from Kit. The excitement lasted for several days, so excited was I that I never made a note of the date. The mail from England then began to come through very regular, although the first letter sent off by Dad did not arrive until 6th September 1942, some 6 months after posting. However no matter how much I appreciated letters from home, I was still longing to see Kit’s handwriting once again.

How much longer would it be, some mail had begun to drift through from South Africa, but still Arthur Woods was unlucky and as long as he was I could expect to be the same, we tried to console each other. The method of distribution was altered and the letters were placed in pigeonholes bearing the initial letters, mine was in a different box to his, daily we used to look in each other’s box. The much looked forward to day arrived, I approached the box from some distance away I could see that there was one solitary letter in the 'P' hole, a coloured envelope - not English - could it possibly be mine, two other 'P’s' arrive before me pick it up and put it back - my heart starts thumping -I pick it up - its face downward -I see Mrs C Pocock - thank God it’s mine. I stand and look at it, study the postmark. I go to find Arthur Woods in his store, 'were you lucky, Arthur' - 'No - 'were you' - yes, sorry I can’t stop', the look of disappointment is too great, I go away to find a quiet spot to sit down and read, I select a spot near the fountain in the middle of the quad and read, read, read, then lay back relieved to think of Kit. How happy I am, but this is not the first letter she has written - however news is news, I am for once happy and that nights sleep the sleep of the just. The second letter written by Kit did not arrive until 25th October 1942 but in the meantime I received others from her. The date of receiving the first letter from Kit was 28th June 1942 and then they used to arrive generally about once a month. The second letter received from Kit was sent on the 27th May and I received it on the 27th July almost a month after receiving my first one from her. All the time I was in Italy I was able to send a letter to Kit every Sunday, my letters must have been very uninteresting, I wanted to tell her how much I loved and appreciated her, but I didn't, because of the censors. In addition to the Italian censors there was also an inside censor, as this was done by our own officers who were not as confidential as needs be, I decide that I would leave out all sentiment and make up for it on my return. To home and Kit's home I sent a postcard off every other Sunday. Everybody was very good to me and wrote very regular and how I used to appreciate it, many a sad day was brightened by the receipt of a letter, they proved to be milestones passed in the life of a POW.

Private parcels of all kinds began to come through after about 2 or 3 months, but the majority were English and therefore like letters I did not expect anything until sometime about September, I set this date and eventually got used to the idea that I should receive nothing until that month so that I was never disappointed. I also knew that Kit was unable to send cigarettes from South Africa so I didn't expect any, smokes and had to manage on my Red Cross issued plus those purchased from the Italians - 30 a week, by judiciously saving my stub ends and smoking them in my pipe I found that I could make ends meet. One day in June or July I was sitting in the cloisters talking to Butch Cowland-Cooper and Padre Rees Davies, we were talking of parcels, the Padre was telling us of his disappointment a few days previous. His name had appeared on the parcel list for the first time, he went to draw it expecting a clothing parcel but when it was opened it contained 50 hymn books from the Middle East, I actually saw him draw the parcel and admired his pluck, the look of disappointment which appeared on his face was controlled immediately and he had to laugh about it although I know how very hurt he must have been. While we were talking of this the shout went around the quad that a parcel list had been posted, I said to Cowland-Cooper, "I know that it won’t affect me so shall not trouble to go along and look", after a pause he said "Well I might as well you never know", so off he trotted he was gone about five minutes and when he returned he said "Thought you wouldn't get any parcels you jammy bugger" I replied "You cant pull my leg. Butch" "Can’t pull my leg you lucky sod you are on the list for ten". This of course I simply could not believe and nothing could move me, until he said he would give me his evening meal if he were wrong. At this I began to sit up and take notice, so very nonchalantly strolled along to the notice board, quite prepared to be had for a fool but true enough my name was on top to receive 10 parcels, it was the talk of the camp. I could not draw them before 10 am the following morning, I had all evening to ponder about them, who could they be from, Mick and I put our heads together and had a rare old talk on the subject. Sticky joined in trying to decide whom they were from. I got but little sleep that night thinking about them and was excited as a small boy, 10 o'clock wouldn't come quick enough to satisfy my curiosity. The great moment eventually arrived and I got 10 parcels each of 2,000 cigarettes each what a Godsend.

I realised of course that they were not all mine but for the lads who were captured with me as they were addressed to Camp 66. I left 9 parcels unopened in store and took the remaining parcel of 2,000 out and issued them out to the lads and officers of the Regiment. The name of the Regiment was high; everyone in camp was talking about it. They had even more to talk about a few days later when I received another 9 parcels and Charles Woodbridge received 6, all from the Regiment I was now worried as to how I was to forward them to the troops, so applied to the Italians, at first they would not play at all, and them I decided to sell them to certain officers as there was such a shortage and get their regiments to pay Major Colver for them. But eventually the Italians agreed to get the addresses of the senior NCOs, after a time I sent off parcels to the NCOs with instructions to distribute them evenly amongst the men of the Regiment in the various camps, I heard later that these had been received safely. Altogether Charles Woodbridge and I received 86,000 cigarettes from the Regiment, how proud I was of it at the time and cannot praise the organisation enough which sent them so promptly, I suspect Major Colver and Jack Hanlon of having a hand in it since those days I have received several parcels of 200 cigarettes from them and I know that the men have done equally well and that they are as thankful as I am.

My first clothing parcel arrived on 5th September 1942; on this occasion I knew the day before that it was a clothing parcel so instead of laying awake all night wondering what it was or who it was from, I lay wondering what was in it, my excitement was like that of a small boy at Christmas. When the time came to draw it I found myself trembling. Of course it had to be opened by the Italians in my presence, if ever I wanted to hit anyone it was the unfortunate officer who opened my parcel, not that he was in anyway careless about it but just because I was so excited and wanted to do it myself. The outside wrapper had been sewn on and in places was sewn to the towel and pullover in which it was wrapped, the officer was most careful to see that he damaged nothing, which made him all the longer in opening it and I got so impatient. Immediately he had passed it I took it up to my bed before I went through it. Then Kit, how pleased I was with it, you could not possibly have done better, everything that I required to set me up, however did you think of it all. Also how very proud of you was I, because everyone agreed that it was the most useful parcel they had seen. I shall only be able to show my thanks after I get out of this and never enough, my dear.

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