Oh poor Albert; things take a turn for the worst in mid January, as you will read. I chose to publish these three letters together, as they document the progress of Albert’s removal week, from his cosy billet to a new, spartan abode. Although these letters are rather downcast in tone, especially concerning the food, Albert’s dry humour still shines through. And he still manages to get to the ballet, and the cinema, twice.
Weds Jan 21
Dear All, Oh dear! This is a very miserable letter written on a very very sad day. For today we moved to our billet to a long way off, and what a miserable place it looks to be. No carpet, no fire, no tablecloth, camp beds, few sheets, no room for personal odds and ends in the bedrooms. So the sooner I get home the better. I cannot speak about the food, but I am expecting nothing much. I am writing this in 39 Dickson Road. The new address is 53, Hornby Road Blackpool.
I am afraid I shall spend a lot of money on buying meals out & going to shows, because I don’t want to spend any evenings in that miserable hole. I shall be able to come in here of an evening that is one consolation.
Tonight I shall go to the “International Ballet” and on Thursday to a film. Friday I must come round here to write letters. On Saturday afternoon there is a concert by the Blackpool Symphony Orchestra which I may be able to attend. Sunday, I hope to be able to get to Kirkham (on the Preston road) as one of the fellows who was billeted here is in the RAF hospital there.
I think that is about all as I have neither time nor inclination to write long letters. I may put in some socks which Jean may be able to darn, though the post is slow these days (I have not had your Sunday letter). I have had a letter from Jean which I very much appreciated. Thank you Jean! I will write later, love to you all, Albert.
P.S. There is a lot of snow here and its ever so cold. I am alright now.
P.P.S The food is not too bad but not appetizingly served. Have to wash up tea & peel spuds.
Thursday Jan 22
Dear All, first of all a word of explanation – I posted the letter about 7.0pm last night & having no stamps I was obliged to get some from a machine. Since people were too mean to change two half pennies for a penny, I had to put on 3 penny stamps. It was snowing at the time & I hope the address hasn’t washed off.
I had better start off extremely miserable and get more cheerful (not much more) if I can manage it: it’s better than getting worse as I go on.
The weather is very snowy and extremely cold. It snowed hard on Monday and has snowed during last night too. It is cold and dry, & mixed with a little dirt, the snow resembles sand or demerara sugar. The trams stopped but are going again now. It is much more snow than during Dec ’40 (more than we had, that is). I hear that the trains are very slow – 18 hours from London for example, and I don’t know when or how this will reach you. I hope to include the socks and some handkerchiefs with this, but, a word of warning – take care that the colour from the blue ones doesn’t dye the white.
Our new billet is miserable. Here is a summary.
Fire – small, lit about 11.0am.
Living room – no carpet, but a couple of ‘lavatory mats’ just inside the door. The tables are like the ones you have in little tea shops, placed together to make long ones. They have American Cloth permanent tablecloths. The chairs are all wooden ones like this.
There are some high backed ‘dining room’ chairs stacked against one wall, but to ensure that we (the scum) shall not use them, the seats have been removed. The general appearance of the room is cold, cheerless and rather dirty.
Beds etc – I have a camp bed with three blankets, two of which I fold double. There is a pillow but no sheets. I put my greatcoat on the bed last night but the cold woke me up several times. Each bedroom has a small, very small, washbasin, with cold water only. For my personal effects I have a small, once again very small, drawer in the dressing table. I shall have to keep some things in a cardboard box under the bed. In a room about the size of my bedroom, there are four of us, and not enough spare room for the mice to play in. As a further diversion, the pipes are frozen and the water just trickles out, so that we have to wait to get enough in even the very small wash basin. Lights of course, go out at 11 – they can’t afford to waste money!
Meals – the food is sufficient for me and quite good in some respects. Tea is rather an unappetizing meal though. The margarine used seems definitely of the grade 3 or grade 4 type and I have yet to see any jam. Tea is poured out of an enormous enamel pot which reminds me of a watering can. Tea, milk and sugar(?) are all mixed in together. There were no saucers at breakfast time, and as it doesn’t take much to put me off tea, I have not yet had any there, nor do I intend to (I did at 39). Of course there is no supper, that, I fear, would cost too much. Two of us wash up and two peel potatoes each night.
As a footnote I may as well mention that the RAF pays £30 a week for us – 30/- per week per person, for 20 of us. [My footnote – £30 is equivalent to about £1000 today].
Turning to the brighter side of things, our old landlady still welcomes us, and if you like, you can send letters & things there. I certainly shall be looking in very often. Yesterday I dropped into 39 to get your letter, and she gave me some tea. I shall be in there tonight too, and whilst I am there, will have a good shave and wash in hot water & a decent bathroom. It will also be nice to have a good armchair in which to sit in front of a good warm fire. It is nice too to feel that I am welcome, and not just a pest which uses up the money so thoughtfully provided by the RAF.
I hope, I most sincerely hope, that I shall soon be out of Blackpool.
Last night I went to the International Ballet and enjoyed it very much. It is good entertainment & something rather novel for me. I shall try to go next week too, probably on Thursday.
I have reached the final stage of my Morse now, so that is a good thing, but have to wait my turn before I leave here. There are plenty of people in front of me, & it all depends on how quickly they send them away.
After all that length of grumbling, I hope you are getting on alright. I shall include with this, or send later, a note to Jean, as she was kind enough to write a letter to me. I fear though, that there will be no socks for her to mend in the weekend, unless the Post Office puts a sudden move on. I am afraid you will have rather a lot to do now that I have no facilities for washing. Do you see that the purple socks have come back with a hole in the toe – not where Jean mended of course!
I was very concerned to hear about Auntie Ursie’s misfortune, but I am glad that she is getting over the shock of the accident alright.
You must excuse the writing if it seems worse than ever, also if I have missed out some things but I am writing this when supposed to be doing Morse, so that I can get it poseted before the G.P.O. shuts at 6.30. I expect to post it on my way to 39 Dickson Road. From there I go to the cinema with some of the girls & possibly the blokes as well – I don’t quite know who is going.
Unless I can think of something else to say I will stop now and possibly add a little more when I have re-read your letter.
I hope you will get the bicycle tyres, as there will probably be a serious shortage of rubber in the near future. I meant to ask before if you had thought about getting them. Dunlop Fort is certainly the tyre to buy. I was interested to read the letters & amused at Uncle Dick’s. My cold is on the mend, Love from Albert.
Sunday Jan 26th
Dear All, this letter is of course written from 39 Dickson road. I have made up my mind that I shall spend as little time as I possibly can in miserable old 53, and shall write most of my mail from here or one of the numerous Forces’ canteens. Many of the canteens have rooms where you can write letters, and there I shall go during the week. (Most are shut Sunday).
The billet has improved slightly since we now have sheets, which makes sleeping much more comfortable. Also the weather is much warmer, so we are not so cold. On Thursday night two of the fellows in our room slept two in a bed to keep warm and I used the spare mattress as an eiderdown.
Even now I wear a pullover in bed and put a groundsheet (cape) and greatcoat on top of the blankets. By so doing I manage to keep comfortably warm, especially when I have blocked up the space under the door with newspaper to keep out draughts.
You will see that there is not much spare room. In my drawer I can get my clean underwear, shirt and socks and collars. My books and writing paper are downstairs in a cupboard. My letters are in cardboard boxes under the bed. The way the meals are served reminds me of Padgate. When they wash up, as at breakfast time, we have no saucers, they are used only when we wash up, and I have to ask to get water at dinner times. The ‘old boy’ there is an utter misery and already he doesn’t like me much because (as you can guess) I did not hesitate to express a certain amount of dissatisfaction. He will probably like me less by the time (not far distant I hope) when I leave. My present calculations work out that I shall be here about 3 more weeks. Certainly longer than the end of January!
As I mentioned previously, it has thawed. We had rain on Friday and Saturday, & by now most of the snow has gone, except where it is very deep. Friday though, the roads were a sea of slush. Fortunately we are issued with gum boots, which of course everyone wore, though they are none too comfortable. Now I am back to shoes again which suits me more.
I went to the cinema on Thursday and saw “International Lady” & enjoyed it very much. I do not know whether I would advise you seeing it but it is a spy story which is yet very amusing & not all American. This week I may see one called “The Devil & Miss Jones” which is supposed to be funny. I must go somewhere in the evenings anyway. On Thursday I shall probably go to the International Ballet again. This afternoon there is that concert by the Blackpool Symphony Orchestra. Norman Allin will be singing and the orchestral items include a Beethoven symphony and the “Emperor Concerto”. It should be good.
By the way, I hope that you have received a parcel of socks and handkerchiefs which I sent off on Thursday evening. Though letters have been arriving quite normally, I believe that the parcel post has been very much delayed.
Would you send the dates of all those birthdays, so that I can send cards. I forgot Auntie Ursie’s, or rather, thought that the date was 25th, so that I had to send a special card for people who forget. It was rather a good one though. I am afraid that I shall not be able to send much except cards, except in the case of Maggie & Christine and they are so hard up that I shall have to send something else, probably writing paper, sweets etc.
Yesterday I bought Shippam’s meat paste to help down the cooking margarine which we get with the bread. We have had only one small lot of jam since Weds. The paste was very easy to get and I shall probably buy some more in the week. I must also try to get small portions of cheese and some honey if there is any going. As there are only 4 of us from Dickson road I don’t mind sharing with them. By the way, I can get you paste if you like, and may send some to Jean too if I have any money left at the end of the week, though it goes more quickly now, as I sometimes buy morning coffee and often a bar of chocolate if the NAAFI has any.
The weather today is very windy but not cold. The sun is not shining yet. I believe I said buy Saving Certs. With all but about £4 or £6 of my money – perhaps you could tell me how many that is. Of course it is alright to continue with Jean’s money at 2/- per week. If Peter is ever hard up you can let him have 5/- or so when he wants it, though I do not think that is likely to occur! He can have money or part money for any books or other school materials he thinks it necessary to buy too. Perhaps you will let him know this. That is about all so I must waste this remaining sheet of paper. Goodbye and love to all, from Albert.
P.S. The sun is shining a bit now, & I can hear an aeroplane up – the first for some days. I hope that I can help choose the Wisley plants, though you had better not delay too long. I believe that last year they came before the closing date.
Mine is an inquisitive nature, and there is usually something that piques my interest in a letter and sends me sailing through the internet in search of answers or elaborations. The story of the ‘International Ballet’ and its Principal and founder, Mona Inglesby is a fascinating one, so try the link if you want to know more. Other details I do not need to investigate further; Shippam’s meat paste was a teatime staple for us in the 1970s.. oh the awful smell! The fish paste was the worst.
What I notice in these letters is that Albert eloquently details his discomfiture regarding his physical surroundings, yet expresses no such unhappiness about moving on from one set of strangers to another. His equanimity leads me to wonder if people were more connected in society then, talking and making bonds more readily with one another than we do now. I have formed the view that Albert was a thoughtful man who loved his books and took great solace from reading but also he liked company and enjoyed going out. What’s clear to me from reading these letters, and the few I have from others who knew him (see Let these old lives speak for example), is that Albert was a warm-hearted and easy going fellow, who rarely spoke ill of those around him…..unless you happened to put cups on the table without their saucers.