Colouring My Mabey Family Past

An afternoon in 1937 comes back to life

The Mabey family at home, Branstone, Isle of Wight c.1937

When Val of Colouring The Past offered her followers a free colouring of a photograph, I jumped at the chance. Val selected this photograph of three generations of my Mother’s family, that first appeared in my post Your Dear Little Self, which I posted last August. I am so happy with the results! Val has done such a careful and sensitive restoration, these figures seem to glow with life. Val has meticulously followed the information I could give her about clothing, hair colour and the house and garden. I was able to give Val a copy of Albert’s hand-coloured photograph of my Mum, in the very same dress, that he took in 1937 – serendipitous to say the least.

I hope that you too like Val’s rendering of the photograph, and of course I encourage you to delve into the many fascinating works on her site. There is something hypnotic in the transformation of black and white images into ‘real’ colour – to me it’s as though the dream world of the past blooms and expands into life.

I see into my Mother’s childhood world, a world that of course I never knew. They are posing for my Grandmother, one spring afternoon, perhaps during the Easter weekend, at Headley House. There stands my Grandfather, standing tall, and by his standards informally dressed (as he is without a jacket). There sits my Great-Grandmother, in her habitual black and spotless white apron. My Great Aunt Frad beams at the camera, no doubt a cheeky quip on her lips. She lays a gentle hand upon my Mother’s arm, just to keep her still whilst the Brownie camera focuses and clicks. Then little Jeannie can go, go and find Blackie, go and play in the sunshine for a while, before she is called in to wash her hands for tea.

Books and Maps

“I believe the billet is to be closed for Xmas so we shall have to move out, though only temporarily I hope, because I cannot imagine a better billet.”

There was a haunting lyricism in Albert’s last letter, recalling his rides to Ovington and to Avington, the whitest frosts on the fields of the Island, the steam rising off the gentle horses in the morning sun. I have been looking at his albums, which has brought me joy and sorrow in equal measure. He took these two photos in 1939, before the war began, before his fate was sealed. He was probably thinking of his photographs as he wrote.

You will have gathered by now, that two of Albert’s interests (besides photography) were reading and walking. So books and maps, being the means to both ends, feature often in his letters home. Here Albert shares his interest in one of the ‘girls’ in the billet, which centres not, I think, on any romantic intentions but on her decent 1″ maps and good taste in nature writing. He’s found an educated friend to go to the music society meetings with, and does not try to conceal his pleasure. Good food makes Albert happy too, as does a warm fire and plentiful hot water. Well, does that not hold true for all of us?!

Wednesday Nov. 26th Midday
Dear all
I have not yet received your parcel so it may arrive later on in the day, but since I last wrote I have very little to report, and nothing to reply to. The only important item is that we have a “short weekend” this weekend from noon Saturday to midnight ( 11.59pm actually) on Sunday and I hope to go to Sheffield, and have written to Auntie Lily asking if it will be convenient for me to come. The times of trains are rather awkward, and make the journey about five hours, so I am going by bus which should be quicker provided there is a good connection from Manchester to Sheffield. I had thought of getting lifts but shall not bother unless there is a long wait at Manchester. I have also written to Mr Gibson to let him know, in case he had intended to come here next week (Nov 30) and have also said that I may be able to get a day pass the following week (Dec 6) in which case I shall try to visit him. I think that is fairly certain as there is a Corporal in our billet who is able to wangle them for us (in return for a glass of beer no doubt!). As to Christmas leave, it seems to be definitely off. Our long weekend should be Xmas weekend, so it will be put off, not to the following weekend which is payday, but to the weekend after that, which is in the New Year. I believe the billet is to be closed for Xmas so we shall have to move out, though only temporarily I hope, because I cannot imagine a better billet. We have just had, for dessert, a sort of sponge pudding with orange in it and custard over – it was very nice indeed. I have not yet eaten all the biscuits which are very nice. I often have one before I go to bed which is usually about 11 pm. We go up at 10:30 or just after, and by the time I have cleaned boots, shoes and buttons and put my trousers to press under the mattress, it is usually about 11-ish. Then in the morning we usually start at 10 to 8 and get up about an hour beforehand, which is not very early for me and as the water is always hot, that is alright. They light a fire at about 7.15 in the morning and now that the other fireplace is repaired we have two fires going.
On Friday morning some of the lights went including those in the kitchen and scullery. I said I could put a new fuse in and did so, but only succeeded in getting two of the bedroom lights back on leaving the kitchen and scullery. More fellows tried but were not more successful and we had to bring a light up from the cellar and suspend it in the kitchen with much string.

Monday and Tuesday the electricians came and after some mucking around with the fuses which were quite alright got the lights going yesterday. I did not hear what they said about it, but one of the wires must have gone, and blown the fuse into the bargain. You remember that our playroom light did the same thing about five years ago.
Auntie Lizzie wrote me a letter which I received yesterday and I must reply to that soon I also should write to Joyce (I have started that), Ron,and Raymond. Also to one or two of the people at Hamble. I have already use all the 2 1/2d stamps in that 2/6d book, so perhaps I have not too many stamps even now.

Yesterday evening I went around collecting train and bus times, and cigarettes and I’m sending the latter with this letter.

There was no chocolate, though but I may be able to get some boiled sweets for Xmas and also toffees, if I am not too lazy to stand in the queue.
On Monday I went to the RAF music society’s meeting and heard some chamber music of Brahms and Cesar Franck, and songs by Mozart. I went with one of the girls from the billet. She is interested in music (plays the piano) and in cycling and walking. She has a 1 inch map of the district and some nice travel books including one called “Rivers of the South”, with photographs by C Dixon Scott
[J Dixon Scott & A. B. Austin], which is in the Bitterne library.
Other suggestions for Christmas presents are:
blue handkerchiefs – I do not think the others will stop white for long without boiling. “Hampshire Scene” by John Vesey Fitzgerald
[Brian Vesey-Fitzgerald] a book which Daddy told me he saw at Major Charmer’s at New Milton. A book of maps of England and Wales, Phil has a good pocket atlas by J.G. Bartholomew, and I expect Mrs Hart will show you when you go round there. Another of the girls here has another very good book of maps, 3 miles per 1″ published by W & A.K Johnston Ltd, Edinburgh and London, at 5/-. As regards scale, it is the better (the other is 5m=1″) but it has no index and is not, I think, so well printed, so I really don’t know which is the better.
That makes a lot of things I should like for Christmas -more than I shall get no doubt but it is quite a nice lot to choose from anyway!
This afternoon there is a football match so I shall keep well in the background and clear on the side. There are some seats at the recreation ground and I have an interesting book to read, British scientists of the 19th century Vol. II. You may remember it, a Penguin book of which Peter had the Vol.I. I have lots of 6d books in my drawer and must send some home, for it is nice to have something to read in our breaks, and in order to save money I don’t have tea very often.
Evening 5.15pm. Your parcel has not yet arrived and there is no other mail so there is no further news excepting that we may not get our leave after all due to a church parade being due so I don’t know whether I am going to Castleton or not.


Cheers! Your parcel has come so I must now open it and answer in brief. I am surprised that Jean had not got her parcel but actually I thought she would be home for the weekend, but no doubt it will be welcome when she gets back. I think you had better get a geometry set for Jean, as I have not seen anything special up here and you will probably get it cheaper at home, try Rose’s or some similar shop. Get one with celluloid set squares, 60° and 45° good thick stuff and similar protractor, and a compass like this with also, if not too expensive, a compass for ink in a nice strong well-made box because you know how she will bang it around! I don’t mind paying up to about 5/- or a little more if you think it is worth it. Tell me how much it costs and I will send you the money.
Arthur Askey’s film doesn’t seem to be due here yet, though I have not seen all the programs for next week. Blackpool does not seem to get very modern films. If you get Mr C to do those prints postcard size, you will find some “Best Wishes” folders in my cupboard. I believe they are in a Kodak white envelope on the bottom of the cupboard. Well that had better be all, or else I won’t be able to post this so goodbye and love from Albert.

“Not a very satisfactory letter”

The photograph shows the envelope in which I found the following letter, along with three others. My Grandmother would have sent them all on to Headley House, for my Great Aunts and Great-Grandparents to read. They would have been read by the oil-lamp’s light, for there was no electricity. The envelope originally contained a letter addressed to my Great Aunt Daisy. Daisy Nutt was the only daughter of John and Jane Mabey to marry, in 1919 I believe. But the marriage did not last and, unusually for the times, Daisy divorced and returned to live with her sisters and her parents. Why she chose to leave Ryde and her sailor husband I do not know.

Albert starts his letter on an inclement Sunday evening, rather brooding on the failed meeting with Mr Gibson and apologetic that he has not procured any cigarettes. He shares, again, his memories of Hampshire countryside and the melancholy of his words reached me all these years later; I wonder if you shall feel it too?

Sunday, November 23 

Dear all, 

I will try to write as much as I can tonight, though I fear that I may not be able to finish it. It is not a very satisfactory letter I am afraid, for one thing, I have no cigarettes, which is not very good since, I received some stamps with your last letter! I will see what I can do in the week. Also I have to say that Mr Gibson did not turn up today -perhaps you miscalculated, or perhaps my letter put him off, for when he suggested that he might come to see me, I wrote that he ought to perhaps to drop me a line so as I should not be out. I stopped in all to-day but he did not turn up, though I should not have walked far, because yesterday I had a nasty blister on my left little toe. I put some Acriflavine on it last night and it seems alright now.

I have since learnt that it was Scorton that I went through last week, though I don’t know about the other places. If we have any snow this winter, I shall certainly do my best to get out into it. I remember well a ride with Phil out into the Forest after we had had a slight fall – most of the snow had melted by the time we arrived, but that field on the left up Hunter’s Hill still had snow on it because the winter morning sun had not yet got to it. I also remember going with him to Avington Park & Ovington (one of his favourite rides) and there was quite a bit of snow remaining on the road between the east of Avington Park and Ovington, the Bell Inn I believe. And that reminds me of the time I went to the Island (early this year I believe) and went out before dinner to Bobberstone way. I went towards Fighting Cocks and left down the Bathingbourne Road, and near the Godshill Road I got off and walked across some fields which were white, with one of the whitest frosts I have seen and especially nice because the sun was very yellow and shining through the trees and on some horses in the field and the horses were steaming in the frosty morning. It was very nice and I walked up the field and looked across over the frosty fields. I remember too that I had my blue overcoat on and it was too warm for me.

Ratty & Mole, “The Wind in the Willows”

We got paid on Saturday and to my great surprise I got £2, some of the others who are putting the same into P.O. Savings  got only 30/- and I believe there were a few who received £1. I suppose I should get about £1 next fortnight. However  I have ordered a chemistry textbook for Peter’s Christmas present, I hope it will suit him. As regards myself, I think that watch repair would be quite nice, it would be useful . Most certainly I do not want a new hairbrush! For Jean you might get the “Wind in the Willows”‘ it is a book most children enjoy, and should read, but she may have better suggestions. By the way you can tell her that I for one do not approve of her green ink,  and she had better get some more if she wants to write to me! Just before I go, I got your letter with stamps. I had bought a 5/- book, so I won’t want anymore for a little while at any rate perhaps you had better send a P.O. next time [Postal Order] when it amounts to enough to send. When the Hamble money arrives you had better save it up for a bit because I shall want some about Christmas time. 

We do not seem to have any alerts here we have not had a warning since my first week up here. I remember they were ploughing the park by Brambridge House and now they are doing The Avenue.  I expect you will see a lot more downland being put under the plough this winter and spring, and a lot more beech woods going down -what a shame it is to see those lovely trees being cut up and carted off.

I got the Shell Magazine on Friday, but no letter inside – perhaps they could not afford the stamps.

Owing to money shortage I did not see the Marx Bros film and so cannot give you a first-hand account of it, though I have heard that it was not up to the usual standard. This week there are no films of great interest or plays etc.  Saturday evening I saw “The Cherry Orchard”, a Russian play by Anton Chekhov. It was a most unusual play, every so often one of the characters made a most peculiar speech addressed more to empty space than to the other characters or the audience.  However though very odd, it was very interesting too and quite amusing, so I enjoyed it more so than the Tauber thing. Somewhen in the future there are some Gilbert and Sullivan operas which I should very much like to see.

It is now Monday and once again dull and drizzly. We seem to have a lot of rain here in Blackpool or perhaps you are getting a lot of rain at home too. I must write to Mr & Mrs Gibbons and Jack. They must wonder what has become of me. I suppose you have not seen anything of them since I left. That seems about all I have to say, so goodbye and love from Albert.

P.S. Excuse the scribble I’m in a hurry. If anyone with a spare coupon wants to buy me a Christmas present,  they could get a black tie, I think mine will be wearing out soon.

I wonder if my Mother received “The Wind in The Willows” as her Christmas gift from Albert? And if so, was it the same copy that she gave to me to read, when I was 7 or 8? I loved that book. I raced through the story by torchlight, under the covers as my sisters slept. So I agree with my uncle when he writes (sounding rather older than his years) that ‘it is a book most children enjoy, and should read.’

Those of you that are familiar with Southampton will know that The Avenue is the main route into the city centre from the east. It passes through Southampton Common, which (assuming Albert’s report is correct) must have been ploughed up during the war. I cannot find any reference to this though. Let me know if you have any information about it.

“The longest month I have known.”

With these words Albert sums up his RAF career to date; I sympathise with my uncle – days of pointless marching and chilly evenings in shared accommodation, far from the home and the countryside that he loved. He did not have to sign up, and I admire him all the more for that. My Mother told me, that as a chemist in the oil industry he was in a ‘reserved occupation’ and would have therefore avoided conscription. But willingly he volunteered, committed himself to war as so many young men, and women, did. Did Albert ever contemplate his own death? On the 19th November 1941, I think not. His concerns were for his mother’s well being, and for those others that he loved. Not that he loved everyone mentioned, Albert’s opinion of ‘Mrs Churchill’ is less than favourable and why he recommended that ‘Aunt’ be barred from Bullar Road remains a mystery!

Wednesday, November 19th
Dear All,
Yesterday I received the parcel, which you posted on Monday, which was quite quick. I do not know which letter you were expecting from me, but the last thing I posted to you last week was a parcel containing socks and vest which went about Thursday. Yesterday or was it Monday I sent a package to you and a parcel containing meat paste, chocolate and sweets to Jean.
Thursday: incidentally I see that your letter was posted on November 17, one month after I joined the RAF and the longest month I have known, how much longer ago it seems that I was last home!
I do not think that I have a great deal of news to tell. My most interesting days are spent in the weekends, though this weekend we have a Church Parade, so once more I shall not apply for a pass, though if it is fine I shall escape into the country for a few hours. Monday and yesterday I attended the usual music meetings on Monday Myers Fogging, who played at the Tuesday’s concert, gave us some piano music – all from memory and very good. There was also a soprano and a gramophone symphony, making a mixed and interesting programme. On Wednesday one of the corporals gave us a most interesting lecture, illustrated with records, of the history of music – very sketchily of course, but he gave us a jolly good talk and played some excellent records including some that I should like very much indeed.
It is now evening and this letter will not be posted until Friday, so I hope you will get it on Saturday. Since I have nothing much to tell of my own doings I will answer your letter on the next page.


I was glad there is some news of Phil at long last, even if it was only a cable. Since I have been up here I have written him a letter and Airgraph and put a Xmas card in the letter, which I hope he has received. I am intending to write to Joyce somewhen and I will ask her what records she took away – just as a point of interest, I don’t mind of course. I can well imagine that you see plenty of Mrs Churchill too: I don’t suppose you have much time to think about your worries when she is in… I hope she will not be in too much when I come home, or else I shall be going back to Blackpool! However I expect she makes a good third for Kan-u-go, and company in the evenings. Do you see anything of Mr and Mrs Whatmore these days? You must keep “Aunt” out at all costs though, she is one of the visitors you must avoid.
It gets very dark these evenings, in spite of the street lights, and I’m glad to have my torch with me. This evening I saw the new moon for the first time, so we shall have some moonlight next week. We are on a new timetable next week, I understand, I suppose that will mean more work and time spent in marching around Blackpool. However, I do not mind marching now that my feet are better, or almost so, but the drill is still the item I dislike most of all. I am sure that I shall be able to walk much further now, which will be a good thing as I have no bicycle.
I have just been eating one of the apples and have two still remaining, so you see I did not really need any more. I also have some of the biscuits, which are very nice ones and a good shape as well, in fact I thought at first that they were shop ones before I undid the cellophane. As regards chocolates and sweets, I have not wanted to spend much money this week but I think I can get sweets at most times even if chocolates are rather scarce.

Murgatroyd and Winterbottom

I do not hear the wireless much here and I have missed all the things you mentioned. I should especially like to hear the talks on Mozart G minor symphony. I heard the music hall on Sunday though and thought it quite good with Suzette Tarri and Murgatroyd and Winterbottom who I have not heard for years. The “wireless” here is strictly speaking not wireless, as it is one of those re-diffusion things which seem very popular here.

“Another thing we see a lot of the swing doors, due no doubt, to the cold winds. I have never before seen so many swing doors as along the Blackpool Front.”

Don’t expect me to get Christmas leave! I saw in the “Telegraph” the other day that there would be none, and of course that would be especially true for trainees. However I think that our long weekend should be within a fortnight of Christmas so you will be able to save up some of the festivities for me. Anyway, I think you will be safe to go to Havant and I think it would be a good idea to go there if you can.
As regards photographs, I meant a small one (P.C.) f the cathedral . If you cannot find it you could send the other large one, the horizontal one, not showing the Bishop’s Palace. The one from the cliffs which I mean is the one on cream base grained paper – what I believe you call bromide paper, though in fact they are all on bromide paper, except the small contact prints. I do not know if that one has a train or not, but it does have a smudgy white seagull over the sea. I do not think the ones of Saints (Kings?), Fingal bridge or the stream are good enough to send, though you can send them if you care to.
I am not sure which ones of Jean I have, but I think we should keep the better one, which is I fancy, on the cream grained paper. That is about all this week, not even enough to fill this page, so goodbye and love from Albert. (P.T.O.)
P.S. We are just having some cocoa and a sort of fig cake for supper – we also have fig puddings for desert, and I don’t like it much – all pips and not a very nice flavour, but I don’t mind it much and everything else is very good.

Once again the feeling that Albert and I participate in a delicate dance, in which time is irrelevant; he mentions his wish for a photo of Jean and I found that photograph of my Mother to share in my last post. Foolish of me to think I found it for him? Perhaps. I’m sure though that he would have been glad (if not astonished) that I am able to share his work with you, wherever in the big, wide world you may be.

Happy Birthday

Jean at blossom time

Today would have been my Mother’s 88th birthday. What does one do on these strange anniversaries, when Mum has gone and the grief has faded? Three years since I sent a birthday card and made the trip westwards to spend a weekend. I’ve written the date in case notes several times today, without sadness, pausing to wonder ‘well, what do I feel?’ I have bought daffodils and put them in her vase. Yes, that made me cry a little, but not too much. Time has passed.

After my little bit of weeping I remembered this photograph that Albert took of my Mother, when she was maybe 8 or 9. How perfect a gift it is for today; in London we have sunshine in a peerless blue sky, blossom trees punctuate the streets with white and pale pink. Spring is here.

Thank you Albert, for showing me Mum, with everything before her. She had a good life. She was the best mum. Happy Birthday.

What an adventure!

“I gave the “hitch hikers” thumb salute to a red and black Morris 8, and lo and behold it stopped, the very first one I had tried.”

Scorton village as it was in 1932, downloaded from the archives of the National Library of Scotland https://maps.nls.uk/index.html

This letter is quite delightful. It’s 7 pages long and tells the tale of Albert’s first hitchhiking adventure to the foothills of the Lake District. With cavalier abandon Albert risks arrest for going out of his ‘bounds’ and has lunch with strangers. He returns home delighted that he has had two hot meals in one day. I hope you enjoy it.

Sunday, November 16th 6:30 pm
Dear All, I am sitting and writing this after having spent a very pleasant day out in spite of some rain. I tried to get a day pass and I had I done so I meant to take a bus to Garstang, and then walk up on the hills thereabouts. However I was not able to get a pass; they told me that passes were not issued until one had passed four words per minute stage in Morse. I think I have passed but the results do not come out until Monday and so I could not have a pass. So since the morning did not look too bad I thought I would take a walk nearer to Blackpool. I went by bus to Poulton-upon-Flyde and then walked from the church to the Lancaster Road and then onwards. I walked over the road way across the Fleetwood- Weston – Preston Road, and across another smaller road. Our 5 mile “bounds” end at about Poulton station but there were no military police so I walked right on. Having broken bounds I thought I would get a lift, so I gave the “hitch hikers” thumb salute to a red and black Morris 8, and lo and behold it stopped, the very first one I had tried. There were a man and his wife in the car, a Mr and Mrs Davies of Cleveleys as I subsequently discovered. They asked where I was going and I said I didn’t know but just wanted to go for a walk. They said they were going to a place about 8 miles this side of Lancaster and I could come as far as I liked. They proved interesting people to talk to and told me how it had snowed the two previous winters, 2, 3 and 4 feet deep and how there was single line traffic on the main roads and the outlying farms cut off for days at a time. Then they told me that they were going for a walk and I could come with them, so I said I would very much like to. We stopped at a roadside cafe and they took me in and we had dinner (or lunch I suppose) of soup, cold lamb with potatoes & sprouts, followed by an excellent treacle pudding and apple tart, and coffee. With the apple tart was cheese, which they told me was quite a Yorkshire custom and though it seemed a strange mixture, I liked it quite well. I don’t know if you have heard of it. Mr Davis said that they came out to this café each week and there were some other regular customers there and with the proprietors and his family we were quite a happy party. It was a real home from home sort of place.

About 2 p.m. After hearing the news and the music hall, we went out and turned down a little lane across the river Wyre and under the main L.M.S. line to Scotland. We walked to a little village of which I did not properly catch the name, but I believe it was something like Shawton [Albert discovers, as we hear in his next letter, that the place is in fact Scorton]. It is 2 miles from the nearest bus and has no public house, but four or five churches and chapels. John or Charles Wesley went there and I was shown the oak under which he preached. We were going up the hill at the back of the village, but it started to rain so we thought it advisable not to do any climbing. However I had a close view of the hills and we went on, again close to the Wyre and eventually over it. I saw a train of about 12 coaches going down to London, it was hauled by one of the red and cream streamlined engines – like we saw at Euston. Then we went along to the main road and back to our cafe. It was only about 4 miles but I enjoyed it very much indeed. There are no autumn tints here now, very few of the trees have any leaves on at all and there are not many beeches – I have seen no large ones at all. I do not think there are many woods of any consequence in this district, which is quite flat and seems to be devoted mainly to dairy farming, though now they are ploughing up much of the pasturage. I saw several birds, including what I believe were curlews, they were speckled birds about the size of a Peewit, with a long curving beak. It was pretty cold this morning when I started off (about 11) and some of the shallower ponds had a thin film of ice over them, though it appeared to be a black frost. They tell me that the canals are frozen over with thick ice most winters, and I can well believe it, though I felt warm enough once I had been walking a bit. When we got back at the café we sat by the fire and I had a couple of games of draughts with Mr Davis, and rather surprisingly won one of them. When we got outside it was raining quite hard and I was glad that I did not have to walk. They stopped at Layton from which I took a bus back to the North Station and arrived home at about 5.30. The landlady had kept me a hot dinner so I was able to have two cooked meals today! I had taken some bread and butter which I was going to eat with the cheese which you sent but that will come in for supper now. Also at the café were Mr and Mrs Dyson of Preston, and they gave me their address inviting me to call on them if I ever wanted somewhere to go over weekend.


Well I think that is about all there is to tell you of today which has been my most enjoyable since I left home. I must try “hitch hiking” as a means of travel again. Yesterday I saw Richard Tauber in “Blossom Time” but really I was not at all thrilled; his voice does not sound as good as it used to. However it was quite a pleasant show and gave me somewhere to go on a Saturday evening. I did not go to the cinema this week because I have already spent my RAF money and must dip into that odd pound for anything I shall want this week. However, we should get 30/- next Saturday, and I don’t think there is much I want to buy this week, excepting perhaps some stamps.
Yesterday I also had a letter from Mr Gibson saying he would be pleased to see me and that he was writing to you by the same post, so you doubtless know all about that. I believe Bolton is about 40 miles away so even that would be quite a good distance to travel.
As regards the weather, it has rained quite a lot just lately. We were out in it on Thursday and my greatcoat and trousers got quite wet, but I was able to put the coat before the fire overnight and until the wet ones dried, I wore my second pair of trousers so the wet should not do me any harm even though it has made my hat shrink! My feet are still a bit tender but nothing to grumble much about now. On Friday we went for a most enjoyable route march to Poulton, right at the crossroads to Higher Green, and then to Staining and back Home via Church Street. Some of the fellows – there are a number of Londoners in our squad – thought it was a long way but there were quite a number of us who enjoyed it very much, as it took us for the first time into the country. Besides the Londoners our squad includes another fellow from Southampton (Bevois valley), Mr Harper of Sandown, a Cornishman from near Land’s End ( St. Agnes’ or St. Mary’s is it?) one chap from Swindon & several from Devon (and one from Andover). It is a great pleasure to me to hear the Wiltshire and Devonshire accents. The Wiltshireman in particular has a most beautiful country accent, and a very pleasant, somewhat deep voice, and I like talking to him just to hear him speak. In another of our shorter marches I came across some very unpleasant slum-like homes, of the sort that one might expect to find in Chapel or Northam – it just shows what sort of a place this is compared with “our” seaside resorts, especially Bournemouth. We got our laundry the other day, I had a towel, shirt and two collars done for 9d, and it is quite worth it, though the collars are starched, which makes it a bit of a job to put on. This week I have put in my pyjamas, vest and pants as well. I must wash some more socks tomorrow too.
I think that about completes my account of my affairs, so I had better answer your letters. I was interested in your lamp idea, and I shall try to get a table lamp, though things seem to be fairly expensive here. Even if I can afford things I do not like putting my hard earned cash in other peoples pockets. I should think that it would be better if you were to put some muslin or some other material across the reflector for diffusion, so as to cut out the hard shadows which you must get now. I am pleased that you did not cut the flex. As for the yellow switch, it was never very satisfactory and I have hardly used it.
I think I know Clifford Cole – he used to go to Sunday school, is a dark fellow, used to belong to the Scouts and lives at the top of Dimond Road; I should like to see him if he comes up here again. The places I am likely to go to are actually Yatesbury or Compton Bassett, on Salisbury Plain and are not so very far from home, though I believe they are some rotten camps, especially Yatesbury. I don’t know what will happen if I get on this pilots course, we did not take the exam on Friday it is now supposed to come off on Monday or Tuesday. As regards cheese, we are quite well off and often have some for supper – we had some last night in fact – and the landlady tells me that she has 4lbs in. It will not be necessary to have anything sent here excepting apples, though if I am here at Christmas, I could have some homemade jam, but I cannot have anything for myself alone, with 5 other fellows at the table, especially as we are by no means short of rations.
I shall try to send some money to Jean, no, on second thoughts I had better ask you to take it out of my Hamble money, when it arrives. Until then the five shillings will serve as a source of supply. That is about all, so good night and love from Albert.
P.S. sorry about your tomatoes I hope the others didn’t go off like that.

Look at Scorton on the map today and you will see that the M6 now runs along the ridge that my Uncle endeavoured to climb before the weather turned against them. I can find no reference to an oak under which Wesley preached, so Mr Davis may have been employing some artistic licence here. But what generous people they were, what different times. It is not only the landscape of England that has altered irrevocably in the decades since 1941; I regret that our predisposition to show goodwill to strangers and give them good company is now greatly diminished, compared to my uncle’s generation.

Reading Aloud

“Incidentally, I believe that the large number of civil servants here are responsible for the good shows and concerts that come here.”

Gallops at the foot of Stephen’s Castle Down
cc-by-sa/2.0 – © Peter Faceygeograph.org.uk/p/56367

I have not found it so easy to post a letter every week, far less easy than Albert found writing to his parents – this letter was sent two days after the last. It has troubled me, my lack of consistency. Partly I battle against the commonplace demands of work and fatigue, the need to cook meals, and generally look after oneself. Yet there is another specific reason, which is that I find typing out Albert’s long letters rather laborious and as I am an impatient soul my slowness frustrates me. I can type quite quickly if the words spring from my own head, but copying another’s is achingly dull.

But I won’t give up on Albert; I have (oh the wonders of technology) started dictating his letters, which is such a time saver! Reading aloud, if only to an iPad, shadows how these letters might first have been communicated to my Grandparents. I imagine my Grandfather reading to my Grandmother in the kitchen (reorganised to combat the winter cold), or maybe Grandmother read to my Grandfather as they sat together by the fire. Although I realise now how infrequently that would have occurred in the war years, for my Grandfather was evacuated with his entire school to Dorset, and Grandmother was mostly alone in Bullar Road. Still, these letters would have been passed around the family and read aloud at the kitchen table in Headley House, when Grandmother and Jean, reunited on the Island, went to visit.

Dear all,
here is a letter to accompany the parcel which I hope to send tomorrow (Thursday) dinner-time. I have not done much since I wrote last. I went to the concert, for which I have enclosed the programme. The orchestra was quite good and the pianists excellent. I liked the Bach best of all, it was similar in some respects to the concerto in A minor which I have. There were about 15 in the orchestra but the audience was most disappointing – there could not have been more than 350 there, which, since there are 75,000 Airmen in Blackpool represents about a quarter %. Some of the audience were civilians too.
On Monday I went to an educational test to see about being an observer. I took a short and easy test and when the real test comes off I am pretty sure I shall pass. When I pass that I am given a sort of certificate to show that I have passed. Later on in our fourth or fifth week of training we go before a selection board and are asked if we wish to go over to the pilot’s course (same for observers) and if we produce this certificate we have quite a good chance of getting through, so I have only to wait. I believe that our squad is all taking this test on Friday – but like many other things up here that may not come off as arranged.

I wished I had been cycling home from Hamble instead of drilling in one of Blackpool’s dingy backstreets. “


On Friday we have our second Morse test and with luck I should pass that and get onto the six words per minute class. To-day I must try to book a seat for the Warner Brothers film – I hope to go on Friday. There are generally so many people going to the cinemas that one has to queue up or book a seat, yet there was plenty of room at the Halle orchestra concert on Saturday. Incidentally, I believe that the large number of civil servants here are responsible for the good shows and concerts that come here. I am told that before the war, the entertainment was about what one might expect in a place like this.
Today is quite muggy and warm, yesterday was lovely, warm sun and not much wind and quite warm walking home in the evening. I wished I had been cycling home from Hamble instead of drilling in one of Blackpool’s dingy backstreets. We have just been issued with an extra shirt and two collars, making three shirts and six collars in all. Not that I need them, for I find that apart from socks, I do not dirty my clothes at all quickly, of course we do not do any dirty work.
6.40 Evening
I am now waiting to go down to the music Society meeting at 7:30. This afternoon we played football, or rather 11 of us did whilst the other 30 sat down and watched. Then we went home early, which is not a bad way of spending an afternoon. This morning I put some boric acid powder in my socks to stop my feet from blistering but I don’t know whether it has made any difference. Well, there seems very little to write about this time. I have not had any letters since yours, I do not seem to have had much mail lately though I have written quite a lot. I have not written to Raymond yet or to ‘Spray Bank’. I think I might as well break off now and add a bit more later on, if there is any more to add.
9.40
It is funny how I keep on suddenly thinking of little bits of country round home at all sorts of odd times and usually for no apparent reason; sometimes my memory brings up a picture of Stephen’s Castle Down, another time of Deacon Hill or again of the Lyndhurst Road. I don’t know what it shows, but there it is. Well that about finishes that piece of paper, so goodbye and love from Albert.

In the 1930s and 40s Southampton was a large, bustling commercial port and town, yet Albert’s 6 mile cycle ride to the Shell Mex BP oil refinery in Hamble would have taken him down green lanes with views of the river Itchen and the wider expanse of Southampton Water. No wonder he missed his daily dose of countryside, as his sore feet marched up and down the dingy drill ground for hours on end.