These letters are from my Mother’s brother Albert. He did not live long enough to become an uncle to any of his four nieces. It is these letters that I always knew of. These are the letters that I knew were stored and safeguarded, because one day someone would read them again and Albert would come back to life.
He died on 12 January 1944. He was 22 years old. My Mother was 13, an evacuee in Bournemouth. His brother, my Uncle Peter was 17 and at Cambridge University.
The three bundles of letters are from 1941, 1943 and 1944. Those loose are from 1942 – I believe – although many have incomplete dates and so could be from other years. I look at this pile of letters and wonder where do I begin.
I think on how their contents are all I shall ever experience of him. The Letters as a whole entity are all I shall ever know of my Mabey relatives passed away, yet Albert’s letters have a particular poignancy. His death was the tragedy of my Mother’s family. She rarely talked of him but the silences of grief were still palpable in my young childhood.
I have two letters left from 1939, which I will publish in the next two weeks. Then we move to 1941, when the world is at wholeheartedly at war and thus Albert’s voice will take centre stage, and I shall come to know my uncle.
The Letters 
Your letters are a real treasure. I have really gotten to know my parents, my father’s siblings and my Grandfather in their earlier life, one that I could not imagine when my parents were in their 50’s. Memories are precious and need to be passed down to younger generations. Thank you for doing that for your family.
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Thanks Judy for your thoughtful comment – I wholeheartedly agree. They tell a story for all of our family, which is indeed precious. I never knew my uncle but I’m soon to embark on the 100 or more letters he left behind; what will they tell us I wonder?!
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