..and I do not wish to see another like it.
Oh poor Albert! You know, in spite of his dramatic assertion above, I don’t feel too sorry for him, having read this letter through. There seems to have been quite alot going on for Albert in 1941 that was new and interesting, even though that necessitated some hard work on his part (for example getting his ‘words per minute’ up from 10 to 14 in Morse code). However I am sure it pulled on my Grandparents’ heartstrings to read those lines and also to learn that the prospect of Albert having Leave long enough to return home was some months away.
Albert pulls himself out of his petulance to detail his recent entertainments. Although Albert did not mention the concert of 23rd December, I have included the programme here because it was folded up with the letter. It’s lovely to read his annotations, which I imagine he made after the concert, as a means of sharing his experience with the family. I’ve added more photographs at the end of this post, so you can read them too.
Saturday, December 27 1941
I have received so many letters from you this week, that I had better write now, so as to catch up with you. I am writing this in the afternoon after having been out into the town, trying to buy a copy of “The Listener”, but there seem to be none left. It is crowded in the town, so crowded in fact that I did not bother to go into Boots’ and get the envelopes which I require. Since Christmas I have had quite a lot of letters – three I believe from you, one from Auntie Edie, one from Havant, one from Grandma, one from Maggie and from Hamble, so I have had plenty of mail to read lately; now I had better start answering it. It is a good job that I did not write a letter on Christmas evening, as I was then feeling very fed up. It did not seem like Christmas at all as I sat and looked at the fire, and it made it very definitely the worst Xmas I have ever known, and I do not wish to see another like it. It was worse because I had two pieces of bad news to think about, one which I am hoping maybe a mere rumour is that we have to pass out at 14wpm in Morse instead of the previous 10 which I have just passed. The other, which is definitely a fact, is that there are now no long weekends, so after the short weekend the next leave is the 7 days which is given on posting. One bright spot in the evening was a concert by the Scottish Orchestra, in which they played Mozart’s 39th Symphony (in E minor I believe) but even that was marred by poor reception, as it was on the Forces programme.
As for Christmas dinner, it was much the same as any other – quite alright but not Christmas. I ate the remaining apple after tea and very nice it was too – I was surprised that it had kept crisp so long – and we used up most of the nuts and Maltesers. In the afternoon I had a very pleasant walk in lovely weather; it was quite the best day we have had for weeks. I went along the Preston Road through Little Wharton, and then across country to The North towards the Weeton road. In the course of crossing field and I came across a drainage ditch (the country round here is rather flat and wet) and jumped across to the other side. Unfortunately the part that I thought was a nice firm one wasn’t and I landed up to the ankles (wearing shoes!) in soft black mud. However, I wiped it off as best I could and continued towards the Weeton Road at which I turned right and then left to Staining. From Staining, which is quite a nice little village, I went along a footpath to Stanley Park and thence home. The sun was shining, and, because I had not seen any for so long I suppose, the grass seemed exceptionally green and fresh looking.
“Boxing Day, we were of course working, which made it rather miserable, especially since the Airforce seemed to be the only people out of doors.“
In the evening three of us went to the pictures. It was not a film of much consequence (except for a Goofy silly symphony which I enjoyed immensely) and I can’t even remember what it was called, but it was better than stopping indoors and quite enjoyable really. Today as I say I am doing nothing much, though I had a bath just before tea (it is now nearly 7.0).
I have only a slight cough left from my cold and that does not trouble me much now. I have just washed another lot of handkerchiefs and socks – it looks as if some darning will have to be done soon.
I have spent some pleasant moments looking through Peter’s exam papers and doing such easy questions as I’m still able to do; I have got very rusty, especially on the physics co-ordinate geometry and trig. Looking at the maths question on roots of a quadratic equation, I see Peter gives the answer as x2 -27x + 26=0 and on working it out I get x2 -27x + 52, which I believe is the correct answer, so I am afraid Peter has slipped up there (have you?). The others I get the same, though it took me a long time to work through them! I have not yet done the numerical parts of the chemistry or physics (which is very difficult to read) papers. I was amused to see Peter’s memo to listen to the radio on the back of the “Pure Maths” paper. I was surprised that there was only one maths paper.
I am glad that you were able to see Auntie Edie after so long. I hope her journey was not too troublesome. I was interested to read that they had a new Valor at Branston – that was something not heard about, though I knew that the old one had gone wrong.
I was interested to see the facsimile of Phil’s airgraph, though I have seen one before. Did you know that I had sent him one? There does not seem much to answer in your last letters – I have not yet received one later than Dec. 23rd, though I have had an note from Havant saying that the cake “travelled beautifully” which rather relieves me. I hope you had a good Xmas at Havant, something more like the old times there.
Well goodbye now and love to you all, from Albert.
In this letter I found so many things that deserved further investigation, although delving into quadratic equations was not one of them! Perhaps Uncle Peter could comment on that? I was curious about the details of Albert’s walk, so I consulted Google Maps. I discovered that there is no such place as Little Wharton. Following his directions I think it was the delightfully named ‘Little Plumpton’ that Albert passed through. His walk , based on this assumption, was at least 15 miles long, and half of that completed with soggy socks and shoes! Albert’s lack of complaint about fatigue or discomfort serves to remind me that his generation were certainly more hardy than we.