Tag: RAF

A Walk in Windmill Land

It was Albert’s reference to the windmills that caught my imagination, and had he seen this book (first published in 1916) I’m sure he would have read it avidly, as it’s all about the landscape that he walked in. Sadly, of the many windmills Albert would have seen, very few remain. I have included a link to the Singleton Mill at the end of this post.

Albert’s letter is dated 6 January 1942, and yes, 79 years later to the day, I send his thoughts out into the world. One of the reasons why I ceased posting on this site in 2020, was that I felt ‘out of sync’ with Albert. Publishing his Christmas commentary when I was basking in the late Summer sun didn’t feel right. I hope to get closer to Albert’s lived experience through reproducing his letters on the anniversary of their creation.

Albert lived through strange times, and now we do too. In bleaker moments I wonder if ‘normal’ will ever return – did Albert think that too? I’m sure he must have worried, but he kept his concerns to himself and filled the pages with the comforting munitae of daily life and the joys of an afternoon’s walk; therein lies a lesson for us all!

Dear All, for once we have a fine sunny day, though it is very cold, especially at night.  There have been some moonlit nights too, though by now the moon is in the morning rather than at night.  There was plenty of frost on the rooftops and railings this morning too.

 It was a pity that it was not so dry and sunny on Sunday, when I went for a walk after dinner. At quarter to two, I took a bus to Hardhorn Corner, near the village of that name. It was quite sunny then and I walked along the road to where it runs nearly parallel to the railway. By that time it was getting cloudy, but it was still pleasant walking. This time I did not try any cross country walking. As even the side roads were in a muddy state and I did not wish to repeat the experience of Christmas day. I have taken my shoes to be repaired and have not yet got them back (they should be ready today) and one pair of boots is at the RAF repair shop, so I have only one pair of boots. The shoes want new tips to the heels and one requires a new sole, so that will mean two soles and a pretty hefty bill to pay.

I walked under the railway, over a little canal and to Great Singleton, where I took the road by the church, which I passed as the clock struck 3. I stopped there a little while and ate the remaining few of your biscuits. There was a little plantation of trees there and I stood underneath and enjoyed the singing of the birds. I walked to the main Poulton road, which I crossed and went up the smaller road by the Wyre and rejoined the Poulton road at the crossroads. By then it was nearly 4 p.m. and beginning to rain, so I hailed a passing car and returned to a part of Blackpool from which I caught a ‘bus.

We had been on Church Parade on Sunday morning, and when I got up it was raining quite hard, but it stopped by the time we were out.

There are a great many windmills in this district, due to the flatness of the country I suppose. Of course, none of them are working now, but a good many still have the sails intact. They tend to be rather squat building though, and not so nice as the few at home, especially the one near the A3 where Chalton road branches off.

Evening: This afternoon it has again clouded over, and when I came in a little while back, there were a few spots of rain falling. On the way from our bath, I called in and got my shoes back. They cost me 5/9 and are rather a rough job, heavier than before, not such good looking leather or workmanship and the soles are nailed on, not stitched as before. However I am glad not to have to wear boots after duty hours.

This weekend they have put me on a guard 10am Sat to 10am Sunday. Normally I should not mind unduly, though of course it is a nuisance at any time, but this Saturday afternoon there is a concert by the Halle orchestra. I don’t know yet what the programme is, but just for the purpose, it is probably an extra good one with some of my favourites like a Mozart & Beethoven symphony, or a Tchaikovsky’s piano concerto. (In my next letter I will give the programme and you can see how accurate my forecast has been).

Wednesday Jan 7 (Dinner time): Your parcel has just arrived, and I have skimmed through your letters from home, though not the others. I have looked at the apples, which are looking very nice, and glanced at the watch, which of course was stopped. I have not yet come across Mr Mitchell’s Xmas card, I wonder if you put it in.

I am glad that Peter and Jean are still home, I hope that they are with you for quite a while yet (you don’t say when they go home). I have not time to write to Peter and Jean, but I was interested in Peter’s Meccano models. I didn’t know though that the electric motor was still going, I thought that the brushes were missing. The transformer I suppose is the one from the doll’s house; it will do but I don’t think there is enough output to get the motor going really well. I expect Jean enjoyed her stay at Bishop’s Waltham, it must be a long time since she saw Jean Bryan.

Today it is sunny (at the moment) but quite a wintry sun it is. Until a little while ago the roads were mostly covered with slippery ice, as it rained slightly yesterday and then froze very hard last night. It was perishing cold this morning too. That is about all, so goodbye and love from Albert.

P.S. Thank Mrs Churchill for the chocolate, it is a long time since I saw as much as that. Once again I have nearly got rid of my cold, but I don’t know how long for. I washed many handkerchiefs on Monday. I found much to my dismay that the colour was coming out of at least 2 of the blue ones; whether Peter’s or Ron’s I cannot say, and had tinted the white ones, including one of my nice ones. I hope the blueness will disappear with subsequent washing. I was interested to see how you did “my” chestnut tree, though I don’t mind now if you cut it down if you want to. I still think it won’t be in the way.

This how Albert finishes his (otherwise splodge free) letter.

I found some photographs of the Singleton Windmill, which you can view via the link. Using Albert’s directions it was easy to find the Chalton windmill that sits atop of Windmill Hill in Hampshire. It is now a nice looking home.

I’ve never visited the countryside around Blackpool, yet via the internet I have seen plenty of pretty photos of Singleton; when it lost its ‘Great’ness I do not know! I was pleased to see, via Google Maps, that the woods around St Anne’s church remain. It’s nice to think of Albert enjoying the respite of nature, as many of us have learned to do in this time of pandemic. Let’s hope the birds start singing again soon, giving us hints of Spring.

School Friends

“a sort of guarantee that things are much as they were, underneath, just as you know that a tree is fundamentally the same in Winter as when it is able to be in leaf.”

‘Phil Hart 1938′ – this photo was probably taken by Albert.

I don’t know when Albert would have received this short letter, surely some weeks after the date his school friend Phil Hart wrote, on 16 December 1941. However, in The Christmas Party Albert mentions receiving a letter from his school friend. If this ‘Air Graph’ took only five days to fly from ‘The Middle East’ to Southampton and thence to Blackpool, that would have been some kind of miracle. At the time of writing, these young men were only 20. Although the letter is short I loved the insight it gave me into another important relationship in Albert’s life. I was moved by the wisdom of Phil’s words, so apt not only for their radically altered lives, but the strange and uncertain world we live in now:

Dear Albert, This is just a “filling in” missive, not my much-overdue letter to you; that will arrive later. I hope you’ve seen everything that has arrived home from me. I am aware that you’ve been in the RAF for several weeks now. Unfortunately, I am not in possession of your new address yet, so this will go via No 38. I received a letter from you a short while ago, written in Devon. I enjoyed your holiday. It’s strange how you do enjoy such things by proxy, when you’re separated from them. It seems to be a sort of guarantee that things are much as they were, underneath, just as you know that a tree is fundamentally the same in Winter as when it is able to be in leaf. My sister, for instance, writes, “Albert wrote to me last week – don’t think he’s very happy, fed up with drilling etc. So write and cheer him up. Muriel, Sheila and I, walked from Compton, via Oliver’s Battery and Tegdown to Dene and Sparsholt and back to Winton for tea last Sunday. There was a tremendous wind and the Downs looked all silvery and lovely. I do wish you could have been there.” So, of course, do I, and you with me, but meanwhile isn’t it cheering to hear of these familiar places thus? I can’t supply this fare, as you did for me before you entered the RAF but you should receive a better letter from me about a fortnight after this arrives – cheerio for now – Bill.

I know that Phil survived the war, I don’t know why he signed himself ‘Bill’ though. Any readers familiar with the area around Winchester will be impressed by the distance Phil’s sister (Joyce) and friends walked in an afternoon, I’m sure it would take me a whole day. And, in a time of limited freedoms, it is cheering for me to hear of the silvery Downs and imagine a walk with family or friends in that familiar and essentially unchanged landscape .

Wishing you all a Happy New Year, with better times ahead.

Gas Masks, Face Masks

“Blackpool, 1941, Gas Drill” by Tom Keay https://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/14646

As I drove to the supermarket this morning, I realised that seeing people wearing facemasks feels just so normal now, and I guess in 1941 it felt just as commonplace to see people carrying around their gasmasks. Whilst I won’t compare the current pandemic in the UK to the upheaval of a world war, I see similarities in the hidden, unpredictable threat faced and how society shifts into new, previously unthinkable, patterns of protective behaviour.

As I was thinking about the parallels between war and pandemic, I looked up the number of British civilian casulaties – 43,000 people killed between 1940 and 1941. Currently the number of Covid 19 related deaths in the UK is 41,429 – not far off – in 8 months.

In 1941 due to censorship, people did not hear about how many of their fellow citizens had died as a direct result of war. Albert would have participated in gas mask drills (he could even have been a model for this sketch) but his letters omit such details. There must have been many, many things he did, which he could not share with his family. And I am sure also, there were feelings and concerns he would have wanted to share, about his life, his purpose and the unpredictable world he was living in. As such candour was impossible, Albert details the munitae of his December days, in the dull lull between Christmas and New Year.

Monday Dec 29. 1941

Dear All, I hoped to write a long letter about a walk which I intended to take yesterday, but by the time I awoke it was 10 o’clock and the ‘bus left at 10.20 – so it was not much use hurrying to catch it. The weather was cold and rather grey looking, though no doubt I should have enjoyed myself had I gone. I was going by ‘bus to Garstang, and then to walk up to the hills and moors, using my new book of maps. I must try that walk before I leave here, though I fancy there is a church parade next week.

In the afternoon I borrowed the “Monopoly” board which belongs to the people here, and had a game lasting for the afternoon and the earlier part of the evening, then I wrote some letters. I heard some “bits” of music during the day, including Everyman’s music in which they played the 1st part of The Water Music, much to my delight.

This morning your letters, posted on Boxing Day, arrived, and I was pleased to hear that you had a very good time at Xmas, with the usual Christmas fare and games, & quite a large party to join in with them.

I did not know that Jean had been to the clinic during her exam period, nor did I know that she did so well for Drawing, she is quite good.

As you seem to have such quantities, I am not sending any cigarettes this week. I had 40, but sold them to the man here, as he is not always able to get them; I can do with the money too, as I have not yet got over Xmas! (financially that is). I wonder how you got on travelling on Monday. Several of the girls who have gone on Xmas leave were due back to-day, but none of them has turned up. The fellows who had weekend leave say that the trains from Euston were packed, & very many of them could not get on the night train, and have had to travel later in the day.

It has turned much colder this week, and tonight it is slightly foggy, with a moon shining, and a sharp frost in the offing. The roofs were quite white this morning, which was also rather cold. This is the first really cold weather we have had; it probably is getting ready for next week when I am supposed to have some guards to do!

“Squad Drill on the Prom, 1941” by Tom Keay https://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/14652

I am sending along “English Downland” which I am sure you will all like. I have put some remarks in the margin, so I won’t say anything much about it here. The part I like best of all is the description of the road over ‘Old Winchester Hill’, which he does very well, and in addition it is one of my favourite roads. If you have a spare Sunday in the Spring when the violets are out, you really must go along the road from West Meon station to the top of the Hill. I think it is best to go up the road, as then you have to walk and can see the full beauty of it. You could continue along Tegdown to Hyden Wood and thence either home or to Havant.

To-day it is still cold and foggy, I expect it is something like that at home, judging by the weather report from Dover. I hope you are all well: my love to you both & Peter and Jean – Albert.

P.S. I saw a car (Morris 10 or 12) with a ‘COW’ registration number. I took my shoes to be mended today so for the next week I shall clump round in boots for evenings. We should have church parade on Sunday.

And that is the last letter of 1941. What will 1942 bring Albert Mabey? I don’t know much more than you, for I have made a point of not reading ahead, prior to posting these letters. Soon I’ll pull the bundle of letters out from the box and we can discover the next chapter together.

Christmas Eve 1941

Postmarked on Boxing Day, which is remarkable, although Albert complains of the slowness of the post.

Wartime and pandemic: My uncle knew the former and I the latter. I think about the similarities, the uncertain future, the constant but low-level sense of unease. Most of all I think of how both Albert and myself were taken by surprise, to experience a familiar world so suddenly altered.

This is Albert’s first Christmas away from home. He updates his family on the success of the the Christmas party, paying particular attention to the food. If there was any kissing under the misletoe, then Albert kept it to himself.

Once again I am touched to read Albert’s remarks to my Mother Jean, albeit a mild reprimand for doing poorly in her arithmetic test. My Mum excelled at many things, but maths was never one of them.

 A Merry Christmas to you all and here’s hoping to see you all very soon in the New Year.

 Dear all (Mummy and Daddy and Peter and Jean, and Aunties Lizzie and Bertha and also  Berty and everyone else).

 This is a strange 24th of of December and Christmas Eve but it will be another day of rest tomorrow, which is one pleasant thing. We had our party which was really quite enjoyable and the cakes excellent then also trifles with real cream on top I don’t know where ever it all came from there must have been nearly a pint in all. During the afternoon of Sunday I heard the first part of the broadcast of the Messiah and wondered if you to heard it. Now that we have some new people catering for us we have the wireless since they have brought their own, an all mains Murphy with ABC tuning, something like the Bryan’s, a very good set.  What we have is a speaker attached to a rediffusion system which seems to be very common here as there are wires across the streets,  right and left.  I am able to hear the news now and shall probably hear the King tomorrow.

 I don’t know when you will receive this, being posted today. Your letter ,written on 19 December, did not arrive until yesterday and mine, which you have not received, was posted on the usual day I believe. I was rather disappointed that you did not put in those Dufoy prints. I was anxious to see what they turned out like – after having remembered that I still had the reel.   I also had a letter from Castleton in which Geoff thanked me for the films. They included a 2/6d book of stamps. As regards the 5/- from Uncle Bernard,  perhaps you could send it on if the postal order is still intact, otherwise don’t bother . But after buying my Christmas presents, few though they were, I have very little ready money left.

 As for chocolate, we get some but not a great deal and just now there are great queues outside the NAAFI for cigarettes and chocolate, although not such large and disorderly ones as at Portswood.

 I was very interested to see Phil’s letter and read what he has being doing.  It seems that he is in quite safe area and that he is not having too bad time, in spite of what he says about it.

Dec 25 11am: We have just had breakfast and are listening to the church service on the home program . They are singing “Hark the Herald Angels sing” and it brings back to me happy memories of the many times I have been to Havant church on Christmas day; the same carols, the lesson from Isaiah and the Gospel from Saint Luke, about the shepherds at Bethlehem  – it does make it a little like Christmas.

 I do not know when this letter will reach you. Again I do not know where to send it. By the general slowness of the post I think I shall have to send it home. I will now thank you for the presents which I opened this morning.  I am wearing a tie which is better one than our issued article and which I shall save for ‘best’  wear.  The handkerchiefs would of course be very useful, though I have not quite so much use now as I nearly got rid of my cold, which has been rather troublesome. 

So today I have eaten the cake and I must say that it is very nice and although I believe you said it was without eggs or something.  I should not have thought so to eat it.  It was lovely and fresh too, in spite of having been kept for a week.  I have been eating the biscuits during the week too.  I think the Chinese ones are the best, although the chocolate ones are almost or equally as good. The honey biscuits have a good flavour, although they  are not so crisp and ‘biscuity’ as the others.

 I have just been reading your letters and it is a pity I did not read them before, because I have not been to church and now it is too late to go to any of the morning services. You see, I have to get someone to wake me up if I want to get up earlier than about 10. I was called at 10 this morning.

 As regards the rest of my present I think it would be best to get my watch done if that is possible.  The ‘Hampshire Scene’ is in the Portswood library, the author is John Vesey Fitzgerald.  I have an idea that folder of maps is a smaller scale than the books.  I believe I have seen them.  Anyway, as Phil has the Bartholomew’s book it will be nice for me to have a different one. They will also be able to revive memories of home and holidays for me,  as well as help me to find my way around wherever I may get sent to.

 As regards presents and things, I have not a great deal to show for this Christmas.  I have had five cards up to date, though I have sent off a great deal more.  I sent a card and letter to Mr and Mrs Gibbons in which I enquired about Jack. It is a good job that I did not send to him at Thorney Island.  I have had two books from the girl who used to work at Hamble – one is a Dictionary of Photography, the other on the authorship of Shakespeare’s plays. I have the one from Havant some while back, and last week Ron sent some handkerchiefs.  I have just told you about Auntie Lily’s present and that I think completes the list.

 This morning is fine and sunny and if the afternoon is as nice I may take a short walk in the country, though I must first of all write a letter to Joyce, who has been waiting about a fortnight or more for a reply to her last one.

 My love to Peter and Jane Peter must tell Jean for me that even if someone has to be bottom for Arithmetic and even if we are not surprised, it would be better if she got more for it and does a bit better next time especially (I am sure Peter can tell her this) for so important subject as Arithmetic.  I know she can do it and have no doubt that the trouble is only carelessness, so buck up Jean!  I am glad that she has done so well English, French and History and that she takes an interest in the Art Club and enjoys it so much. There do not appear to be any marks for drawing or suchlike. But Jean, I don’t like your green ink although I like reading your letters!

 I don’t know whether I can fill the rest of this sheet now. I have not even got some old men to talk about like Jean has, so I will close now, with love to you all from Albert.

P.S.  This stamp on the envelope is the one off your letter before last! (saving paper).  And give my Christmas greetings etc to Mrs Whatmore and Mrs Churchill (!).

No Bad News

“There is little hope of recovering it I am afraid.”

Written with an inferior Platignum

Albert writes a happy letter on Wednesday 17th December, 1941, although his first line sent a jolt of panic through me, a shadow of what my Grandmother felt, I’m sure. Oh, but is not truly bad news, not of the life and death variety, yet the loss of one’s writing pen was, in wartime, perhaps akin to losing a mobile phone today? Maybe not quite so bad as that, most people I know would freak out if they lost their phone. Albert was not of the freaking-out generation, so he laments his loss and then gives my Grandmother copious instructions on what to do to find a replacement, in that slightly presumptive tone that young adults reserve for their parents. So, once I appreciated Albert was not in immediate danger, I enjoyed this letter, which details preparations for Albert’s first Christmas away from his family.

Dear All, first of all I have some bad news, so brace yourselves. I have lost my lovely fountain pen. The pen that I liked so very much and so many other people admired. I am writing this with a Platignum I bought to-day for 2/2d. There is little hope of recovering it I am afraid. I don’t know if I told you that the clip had broken almost as soon as I arrived at Blackpool but I have been carrying it loose since then and it must’ve dropped out somewhen. Whilst searching my pockets for the pen I found the missing tie clip but I am afraid the pen will not turn up so easily, so perhaps you will look and see if there is a “Relief No. 7” for sale anywhere and with a fine or medium fine nib, if so buy it, if not see what the nearest equivalent is but don’t buy it in case I can procure one elsewhere – if I cannot, I shall have to do with what I can get. Anyhow I want one, so spare no expense! The Shell money should have arrived by now. 

I am now busy looking forward to our Christmas party. The management of the billet changes hands on Monday and two of the girls have been transferred to Bristol and go on that day, so we are having a farewell party on Sunday. There are a man and wife taking charge now and from what I have seen of them they are very nice people. They bought a Christmas tree (artificial) with them and the man, who used to be a baker or something is going to make us a cake. We have been busy decorating the room too, and it looks fine now, though it is not quite finished yet – I have some more ideas to put into practice! I had a fine time yesterday thinking of schemes of decorations. I cut out the letters in yellow crêpe paper “Merry Xmas” and hung them in front of one of the mirrors so that you can see them twice, and we have got bits of cotton-wool, like snowflakes, making “HAPPY NEW YEAR” on another mirror and there are still two more mirrors to experiment on. We have got red white and blue paperchains, like our red and green ones, across the room, and green ones draped across the mirrors & unused fireplace. Some of the more horrid ornaments have been camouflaged with coloured paper, tinsel and streamers, and some holly which was beginning to look a bit dusty we have gilded over, and it looks very nice. 

On Monday Auntie Lizzie’s present arrived – some nice writing paper (not this) and envelopes. With this lot I am sending the cake, which I have managed to pack in a shoebox. I have also been getting my cards ready to send, I expect I shall post them during this week because it looks nice to have a good show on the mantelpiece. We have quite a lot here, though there are none of mine as yet. I find that I am sending off quite a pile, about a dozen altogether. I am afraid that this will be a late parcel again as it is now 11 pm so I shall not finish it tonight. On Monday I went to St John’s church for a choir service by the Ministry of Health choir and I enjoyed it very much. I had a programme but it seems to have disappeared somehow.

Thursday: it has just occurred to me that you may be going away on Saturday or soon after so I had better post this with as little delay as possible. I am interested to read about the scarves, they must look very gay and it’s a good idea of Joyce’s. It pleases me to hear that the Forsythia is out now – it has beaten the New Year this time! As for the bicycle tyres, I don’t quite know what to do, though I should imagine that new tyres would keep better than old ones. When storing rubber I believe it is best to keep it in the dark. If you can afford it I should buy them, if you have the money though, because the “Fort” is a very good tyre. The films you sent Geoff were the oldest there were, bar the Agfa, I remembered the sequence of dates. I think I shall keep the Agfa for peace celebrations! 

I have just seen that you go to Havant on the 24th, so that disposes of that query. I hope you will not have too awkward a journey. Yesterday evening we had some records I enjoyed very much – Mozart’s 41st (“Jupiter”) symphony. That is a work I have wanted for some time and it gave me very great pleasure to hear it again, and made me want it even more.

The weather is quite fine and not too cold here now, and if it is anything like that at home the gardening should be proceeding apace, though of course it gets dark too quickly to do anything in the evenings. My cold is still with me and I cannot taste things very well, so I have not had any of the biscuits though the apples are very nice to eat. 

Just a few lines penned whilst I am at Morse. I’m afraid it is not very good paper but properly it is a scribbling pad. I was interested to read about Auntie Lizzie’s Hampshire books, that is just the sort of thing I should like to look through. It is especially good because they deal with just the part of Hants that we know best. You must let me hear more about them. By the way, I have been through “English Downland” for the second time and will send it along next week. To-day is very cold (or at any rate this morning) and foggy, but I think it may be quite fine once the sun gets up. My torch is getting very dim so I must get the first new battery. It has done well though, and I have used it a lot. Well I think that is all, so goodbye & love to all, from Albert.

P.S. I have not got a calendar as they all seem to have disappeared (and so has my money!) I want a pen so that I can see how much ink I have left. 

“I think I shall keep the Agfa for peace celebrations”, that poignant line causes me once again to reflect on how short a life my Uncle lived and how sorely he was missed. Albert didn’t see the peace, he did not resume his career in the petrochemical industry. Albert did not marry Joyce, buy a house and have children, who would have been my cousins.

When I go too far into this type of melancholy, I remind myself of the facts of my Uncle’s life, that he experienced happiness and adventure, and like most of us, he did not know his end. In December 1941 my Uncle was enjoying cosy evenings in the company of clever young women, listening to the gramophone, sharing cups of tea and Players cigarettes. He was free to do as he pleased, away from home and family duties. I see him laughing at the ‘horrid ornaments’ with the girls, huddling round the fire to compare progress on their paper chains and snowflakes, delighting in their warm smiles and appreciative looks (both for his musical knowledge and scissor skills). I know that Albert’s RAF career gave him qualifications he would never have acquired in peacetime and sent him to distant destinations he was unlikely to have visited otherwise. He lived out some of his dreams, which is as much as any of us can hope for.

The RAF Observer

“What happens after I have done the wireless and Morse I cannot say.”

My uncle was a modest man, I have learnt this much through reading his letters. His success at the Selection Board is not mentioned in this letter until almost the very end. Before he shares this news, Albert’s focus is on Christmas gifts gathered and the ‘absolutely wonderful’ concert he attended at The Tower. If Albert was accompanied by one of his female Civil Service friends we shall never know. Nor shall we ever know who the ‘Hamble friend’ was, or what became of him, for Albert never mentions him by name.

Time shows that Albert achieved the position of Observer, as we can see the brevet on his uniform in this photograph . I’ve not been able to find out much about the role, other than the Observer was considered second in command to the pilot and was most often the navigator and radio operator of the crew. It seems then, that my childhood description of the ‘big black compass’ may have been apt.

Saturday 7 pm December 12

Dear All, unlike last week I’m starting this letter early since I’m spending the evening indoors. We were inoculated for the second time today and my arm – the left one – is feeling rather stiff this time, you may recollect that it had practically no effect last time. Probably the fact that I have a cold has something to do with it, but you must not think that I am by any means ill (or I would not be writing this letter). I think I have been lucky to escape for so long without catching a cold.

Yesterday I said goodbye to my Hamble friend, who has finished his training here and is going for five days leave to Warsash. It will be a bit lonely now he has gone because it was very nice to be able to talk to him about our work and the people who are, and were, at Hamble. I hope to see him later on, when I get moved from here though. I received your parcel to-day, many thanks for it, though as yet I have not sampled the eatables or opened the Xmas gift, which I intend keeping until the day. I have spent the 3/- and a bit more besides. I think I have got nearly all the Xmas presents and cards settled, though I have not paid for Peter’s book yet as it has not arrived. I bought a small chocolate cake, which I hope to send to Havant if I can find a box for it; I hoped to use the one your stuff came in but it is not big enough. Someone here will have one no doubt. I have looked for some farm animals for Christine but they do not seem to be any, so I have bought a couple of exercise books since she seems to be short of paper and I shall send some sweets as well. On Wednesday I shall send you your tin box. By then I shall have enough cigarettes (wrapped separately!) and other things to fill it. I suppose I had better send your cards to Havant, though I don’t know how long you reckon to be there. That reminds me, I must buy a stock of 1d stamps for these cards. I suppose I should buy a card for Peter so as not to leave him out. If he is able to get his exam papers I should like to see them. 

“We had a mince pie with our tea one day this week so the Castleton one was not the last of this year“

On Thursday I went to The Tower and saw ‘The Messiah’, it was marvellous, absolutely wonderful and I enjoyed it more than anything I have heard for a long time.  There was a very good chorus of about 120 I should say, a good sized orchestra and an organ. The place was packed, far more people than were at the Halle concert and I had to pay two shillings to stand. I very nearly did not bother to go in, but having heard it I would willingly pay twice as much to hear it again.

Sunday Morning: I am feeling rather better now and sure I’ll be alright tomorrow. I am something like I was when I was inoculated last year. I had a letter from Grandma and Auntie Ursie during the week. Auntie Ursie says that their daffodils and snowdrops are beginning to show, I wonder if ours are coming out yet. She also drew my attention to the fact that they come from Poulton-le-Flyde, which of course I know, though I do not recollect Brown’s Nurseries. 

On Thursday I went up to the Selection Board who took me without any difficulty as an Observer. It will make no difference to me for some while, as I have to go through the whole wireless course, though not the gunnery.  What happens after I have done the wireless and Morse I cannot say. I am sorry to hear that Jean is not very happy in her billet, though she is a good girl not to complain. It  seems to me that she got on best with the Hollybrook children. I hope she will have some nice companions when she is moved. I have not written to her lately but I don’t seem to have much time, or much news. I suppose that she will be spending some time at Havant after you have left, or will you be there the whole week? Well that seems to be about all I have to say, so goodbye and love from Albert.

P.S. I was interested to hear about Mrs Hart and the solitaire board, I remember that they used to play it at Landford.  I could do with some stamps for the next lot of cigarettes. 

In some other post I will tell you what I know about cousin Christine and her family. Her grandfather was the catalyst through which my Grandparents first met; when I discovered this I was glad to solve the mystery of how, in 1917, a man from the Island could have met a woman from Havant.

There must have been so much more to Albert’s new life that he did not share with his Mum and Dad – the chats with fellow lodgers, the training, the thoughts and longings he had. This letter jolted my own memories of writing home, when I was at university. It was a little unusual, in 1981, to write a weekly letter, for public phones were commonplace. I wrote letters because my Mother wrote to me, and she could not hear well on the phone. I kept all her letters, it seemed a wicked thing to contemplate destroying them. And my Mother, as we discovered after she died, kept all of mine. They lay with Albert’s, in the same big box. Maybe one day, when I am an old, old lady, I shall marry them up – I couldn’t bear to do that now. Maybe one day, much further on in time, a relative of mine shall read of the duet we danced to, and marvel at the lost world we inhabited.

Monday 8th December, First Instalment

“I will recount my adventures on my trip to Castleton.”

Albert’s map showing the route from Vic and Lily’s former home (‘Hope Cottage’) to their new residence, ‘Laneside’. I cannot quite match it up with current maps, and am puzzled about the school also being a cinema!

The Derbyshire Peak District is an ‘Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty’ and so, because of the strict planning laws relating to National Parks, the village of Castleton remains mostly unchanged from 1941, when Albert escaped the murk of Blackpool and visited for an overnight stay. This letter gives us the first instalment of that visit, with more detail to follow in Albert’s next letter. Albert sounds happy to be out of town and in familiar company. I felt like I was back there with him, even to the point of wistfully wishing I had known Uncle Vic and Aunt Lily. I found a nice photo of them, with Geoff, which I think was taken around 1926. They are standing in the garden of Hope Cottage.

Although I am not familiar with the area, I know that the Peak District is a very popular destination, with Castleton being a hub for walkers, cavers, climbers, cyclists and those who simply seek some restful hours in the English Countryside. ‘Mam Tor’ is the highest hill in that area, its name means ‘Mother Hill’. Also, so Wikipedia informs me, it is known as the ‘Shivering Mountain’ on account of the frequent landslides. The Winnats is a deep valley pass that means ‘Windy Gates’. Look up this National Trust website and you will see how beautiful it is – and very different to Blackpool!

Dear all, as a change from the usual, I have a lot of news and as I have to write to Castleton as well tonight, I may have to curtail this letter a bit. First I will recount my adventures on my trip to Castleton. Saturday started off fine but by 12.30, when I took the Manchester coach it was blowing hard with fine rain. By the time we reached Manchester it was raining hard. At Manchester I hoped to catch the Sheffield bus, that we used to get up to Mam Tor, but they told me that it did not run, so I thought I would do the next best thing and catch the Buxton bus. (Listening to Mr Churchill – heard Rooseveldt at 6.30).

On the journey to Manchester I was struck by the fact that most of the main roads around this way are of old stone setts – something like our tramway cobblestones, but often smaller: I am glad I didn’t have to cycle over them. If you look on the map you will see that the Buxton and Castleton Road divide at Chapel-en-le-Frith. Rather foolishly I went on to Buxton, since I forgot the road when I got the ticket and thought I would be more likely to get a seat in the Castleton bus by boarding it at Buxton. However I was told that there was no Castleton bus, so I got a car back to Chapel by which time it was about 5.15 and growing dark. From Chapel I walked along the Castleton Road. Fortunately it was not raining so much and I was pleased to remove my hat and get out into the fresh air a bit. Walking briskly in the gathering dusk, I was quite soon almost at the top of the hill, past the farmhouse on the left and almost where the road runs along the top of a deep gully,  lots of contours on the left. Then one of those lorries came along and by waving my arms and shining my torch I was able to stop it and get a lift right to Squires Lane. I could just make out the silhouettes of the hills as I got out and I arrived at about 5:45,  just as Auntie Lily and Geoff were coming down the lane to meet the station bus.

Indoors we had sausages for tea also some mince tarts which was very nice indeed. Then we had a game of Monopoly which is a very interesting game, although not really suitable for less than four players. We had one game which took until about 10 pm. They have a very nice house, much better than Hope Cottage, though it is further from the village about half mile. Squires Lane is actually the Loose Hill Road and the houses are on a new road on the other side of the wall. They have quite a large garden but, due to having no time to spare, Uncle Vic lets someone else (an ‘in-law’) do most of it. They have six rooms, with hot water, electric light and mains radio and a nice bathroom. From the living room window they have a view of Mam Tor and The Winnats.

In the morning we had breakfast at about 9.30 and the morning was a fine contrast to the previous evening. It was still blowing hard but the sky was clear blue and the wind keen. There was a thin sprinkling of snow on the tops. At the bottom of Mam Tor I saw the bracken through which we waded when we went to the Odin mine, and it was all red and orange, very nice. For dinner we had some Christmas pudding which was a very good one, then Geoff and I and some of his friends went for a walk up The Winnats and back down the Mam Tor Road. The wind through The Winnats was the strongest I have ever experienced. The gusts were so strong that we could really lean against the wind. Upto about the corner, or just past it, the road has been metalled to quite a respectable surface.

There were numerous brave hikers and cyclists about most of them without coats and some even in shorts! There were three cyclists pushing up The Winnats road. From the top there was the usual fine view, and it was quite clear so that we could see the end of the valley. We came back and I left at about 6.30 to catch the bus, (to be continued) love from Albert.

…I have to stop as there is no time.

Fancy having a Christmas pudding before Christmas! I suppose the war, and an honoured guest, were a good excuse. Albert seems to have fallen foul of that common spelling error (at least in my family) of writing ‘loose’ for ‘lose’. There is a Youth Hostel at Losehill Hall, and a road called Goose Hall, so I think he merged the two. Without a second thought Albert set off on foot to to walk the last six and a half miles from Chapel-en-le-Frith to Castleton, along an unlit road without pavements. I suppose he had no choice, but how many of us would even consider doing that? I’m glad he managed to halt that lorry and get to Castleton before the sky turned pitch black.

Aunt Lily

“Yesterday I sent off a warning to Auntie Lily that I may arrive there on Saturday”

Who was Aunt Lily? The answer is a ‘How’. A very long time ago in 1879, Elizabeth Barnes, of Sheffield, met and married my Great-Grandfather Albert Pratt. They were both ‘in service’ and, allegedly, both worked for sometime at Chatsworth House. Elizabeth had a younger brother, Charles, who married and moved to Castleton in Derbyshire. He and Kate Barnes had one child, a daughter called Florence. Florence married Edward How in 1922. They had one son called Geoffrey Barnes How. Florence was therefore my Grandmother’s cousin, younger than her by 5 years.

It was simple to write that paragraph, yet torturous to discover the details – on account of most of the participants using different names, or having different places of birth from one census to the next. Florence was always known (except those in officialdom) as Lily. Edward was known as Vic, Charles was sometime known as Chas and Elizabeth’s place of birth wandered around the environs of South Yorkshire. Thankfully my mother left me photographs with names pencilled on the back, otherwise I would never have discovered my distant relative, Florence Lily How.

Lily lived until she was 89. She died in Sheffield in 1981, the year I went to university. I did not know her. As so often happens, my Mother would have lost touch after my Grandmother died in 1965. In the 1960’s Derbyshire was an expensive and long journey from Hampshire. Mum had her hands full with 4 young children; a visit would have been near impossible. Lily moved house, perhaps an address book was mislaid, the connection disappeared.

So all I can share is the sense of kinship between my Grandmother, May, and her cousin, that is conveyed in the postcards they left behind. Clearly as teenagers they visited each other several times. Whether May was accompanied by parents or her older sister Lizzie I do not know. On the reverse of the photograph above Lily writes:

“Dear May, I can’t come myself so here is a substitute. Don’t laugh please, at the horrible simper. I got my p.c. (postcard) this morning from C.V. Early wasn’t it? Everything seems very quiet here, after such rushing times, but it will give me time to think. I found everybody very well, even after they had sampled the doughnuts. Joking apart, they thought them delicious.”

The postcards I have from Lily to May and vice versa, are affectionate and amusing; I would like to weave them into this project of mine, but not yet. Lily and May’s friendship continued throughout their married lives. Albert, Geoff and Peter were born within 5 years of each other. We see them here in this holiday snap, taken around 1927. They are a happy, contented family group.

Back row: Lizzie Pratt, A.J. Pratt, four unknowns, May Mabey. Front row: Lily & Vic How with Geoff. Albert, Peter and Hedley Mabey.

As a young Airman alone in Blackpool, Albert was keen to call on his Derbyshire relatives, for some fuss and familiar company. On 3 December 1941, he is making plans to visit on a weekend pass. We will hear all about the visit in a later letter. Hopefully I will find some more photographs to illustrate it with.

Dear All, once again I fear that this may be a short letter,because for one thing there is not much news, and for another thing I have not much time it now being nearly 10 pm. I have just been to the grammar school listening to much Brahms, a recording of the Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat minor, and an actual performance of a sonata for violin and piano. As a light relief there were the Barber of Seville Overture, the Flower Song from Carmen, and the Invitation to the Waltz – Joyce’s record. On Monday we had Beethoven’s 8th Symphony and some piano music. It has all been very enjoyable. I have not usually bothered much about Brahms but I liked this evening’s programme very well, though it was rather heavy at times. I am beginning to think that perhaps B. is not so bad after all!

Yesterday I sent off a warning to Auntie Lily that I may arrive there on Saturday, since we have been told that our weekend will be this week. To-day I received the enclosed letter from her, with 6d worth of stamps which will come in very useful.

I have 40 Players which I need to send. I don’t know how many a week you would like. Thanks for the P.O. by the way, it will come in useful for the weekend.

We now have only 3 airmen in the billet, and one of them is expecting to be posted very shortly so that will leave only two. We are expecting some more in very shortly probably they will be new recruits just up from Padgate.

Tomorrow we should have the so-called educational test for the pilots’ and observers’ course and next week the Selection Board, so it seems that things are at last moving. As regards that the weather, has been very muggy this week. We have had no rain to speak of and it has been quite chilly in the mornings but during the days (today especially) it has been quite warm and close. Tonight there is a nearly full moon and it is extremely light out, there being only slight cloud. I wonder if you have been able to get out in the weekend: I hope so. Really I am afraid that is all, so this is a very short letter. I hope to have a lot to make up for it next Monday, love from Albert.

PS I am sorry to say that I have lost that nice tie clip which Auntie Lizzie gave me. It must’ve dropped off somehow. There is a performance of “The Messiah” here next week – I must go. Which primula is it which is out, the Wisley “Julia Hybrid” or the other “ordinary” purple one?

Church Parade

“We have got a cat here, a quite small one, ginger in colour. It is about the size of our Ginger”

Albert took this photo of ‘Ginger begging’ in 1937.

Albert writes his next letter on 30th November 1941, fresh from parading in front of a ‘herd of officers’, for no good reason that he could see. His mind is on Christmas presents and his afternoon out with a family friend. It’s just a little letter, but I love it for insights that it gives us, on everyday wartime life, and those family members that I never got a chance to meet. It pleases me to picture Albert sitting by the fire, his mind on the cosy details of home. I am sure that one of the ‘girls’ was in the background, making him a cup of cocoa to share with her, after he had finished writing.

Dear All, I am starting this in the morning after having been to church. After church we marched by a herd of officers,  moving at very nearly funeral pace,  while they stood in a row and saluted. I didn’t see much point in the show but I suppose it keeps someone happy.

Mr Gibson is coming this afternoon about 2, for a couple of hours, it is very good of him to come and visit me like this with petrol so scarce. I must remember to get him cigarettes for Christmas. I must also take uncle Vic some tobacco, if I manage to get there next week. I have been sending off letters and cards by the score, first saying that I was going to Castleton and then that I was not. I have already used that 2/6 book of stamps that you sent last week and shall have to buy or borrow an envelope for this letter.  I was out looking at shops yesterday afternoon and made one or two purchases. Regarding presents have you any ideas about something for Christine and Ron? I don’t think that there are any others I have forgotten. I could get an aeroplane construction kit for Ron. Would you like a calendar for 1942? I don’t suppose there will be many free ones this year and there are one or two in Boots which have taken my eye.

I was pleased to see the letter & statement from S.M.& B.P. The “ex gratis” payment made “4.4.0” was the fortnight’s advance pay which I got before leaving. The “War Allowance” is the 15% bonus. The “Provident Fund” is the superannuation affair. So if you work it out carefully you will see that next time the cheque should be for about £4. Continue to put it in the box taking out Jean’s money each week and I can put in the P.O. whatever is left when I come home. 

Saturday I got a letter from Jean which I shall enclose if I remember to do so. I should write to Peter in the week, though I have no idea of what I shall write about. Just before I forget it, I must tell you that I have my savings book and I believe the RAF money goes in every three months. I don’t think I know David Trim, but I used to know the Bickers boys. I believe Ken is the boy I know best. As for Phil,  I shouldn’t think he would be at all near the front.  You remember that they were well in the vanguard of the retreat from France, so I should think he will be well in the rearguard of the advance in Libya, I very much hope so.

Some of the fellows here have just been complaining that they do not like Sunday morning because there is nothing to do! I am only too pleased to have nothing to do, although I always have a letter on hand to start or finish.

Sunday Evening: I had quite a nice afternoon with Mr and Mrs Gibson.  He arrived at about 1.30 and we went to Fleetwood for the afternoon. He has a nice little car, a Morris 8, and it was very nice to have the afternoon with them. He had to leave early of course, to beat the blackout, and went at 4. I went out some way with him and walked back reaching the billet at 5. It was quite a fine afternoon, though there was a sharp NE wind blowing, which made it chilly to stand about. 

Fancy having some primroses out! I believe they were late last year too. I saw some violets for sale in one of the shops, and wondered if they have any out at Branstone. Auntie Daisy sent the other pair of socks during the week, and in her letter said that she had picked some raspberries which were quite nice. I wonder if you have had any other bottled fruit yet. (I am wearing the socks which are alright).

I had some unpleasant news today, a good many of the air-crew have been moved from this part of Blackpool, to where we started off and possibly we may go too. I sincerely hope not, and if I can I think I should lodge a complaint – though I don’t suppose it would do much good. We have got a cat here, a quite small one, ginger in colour. It is about the size of our Ginger, but of course the tail is different,  and it has more white in it. Yesterday he caught a mouse and was playing with it on the kitchen floor.  At our first billet there were scores of mice. I saw one running about in one of the cupboards in the scullery, where they sometimes kept with provisions, and that didn’t please me very much you can guess! I don’t think there is enough news for another sheet, so goodbye and love from Albert.

Ron was the son of my grandparents’ neighbours. He spent much of his childhood with my Mum and her brothers, joining them on holidays, and trips to the Island. We know him as ‘Uncle Ron’, always cheerful, always smiling. He made a career from his love of aeroplanes, working in the Concorde factory in Bristol. He was a dear friend to my Mother, almost like another brother to her.

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.