ĂŰŃż´«Ă˝

November 18 1944. Saturday. BLA.
Albert and I visited the Dutch family mentioned in the letter in 1984. We were treated like a king and queen. The whole family of 22 remained standing until we were seated.
Dear Mother and Dad,
Here I am again, I could only write a couple of letter cards last night.
As I said before, I haven’t had time to write for 10 days and incidentally, I have not had any mail from you for quite as long. Well, yesterday I came from a long spell of guard, previous to that I actually went to a rest centre for 3 days, and 2 days ,before that. It was so cold and bad I couldn’t hold a pen. It snowed and rained and blew.
Well, let’s tell you all about the rest. We got into the camp at teatime on Saturday. Jim and myself went out for a while, but it was pitch black and raining hard. We both did a thing we’ve not done for years, went and had a drink. And what a drink, just like ginger pop. We would never get drunk. Sunday it rained all day and night again. We walked around, went to a picture show of sorts, one film and endless breakdowns, blackouts, speechless spells, etc, and an horrible jazz film. The only advantage of this so-called rest is we’re out of the battle line. Otherwise, it’s no good. We can’t brew tea when we want, always dependant on cookhouse, no fires, no heating or lighting in a disused factory of cold concrete floors and no blankets. Still, it’s all over now and we’re back to our comfy tent and light.
As soon as I came back I simply put my kit on another vehicle and carried straight on up the lines. It was not too bad, plenty of fireworks, but how cold. Two nights of severe frost. I’ve just written to Eve to send me a scarf. I’ve got every other article of clothing except a scarf, and I’ve asked for some aspirins. They’re always handy and we get a rum issue.
Down at the rest centre, Jim and I were strolling down Heistraat (High St) in the blackout, when a woman came up and said “Cigs for money”. So we asked her where she lived and went to their house. It turned out to be a working class family of four, the young man and wife , with 2 small girls of 13 months and 3½ years. When we got in the house, the hubby was fret-sawing away, making dolls house furniture for Santa Claus. It’s surprising what a good evening we had, yet neither of us could speak each other’s language. But the chap had bought a booklet on English-Dutch and with plenty of arms swaying we got through a lot of subjects. They are in a bad way for food; they don’t get a quarter of the normal English ration. I should think one English week’s rations for one person would be as much as they got for all four. Plus the fact that they only get one loaf a week of a sawdust constituency, and milk is 3 pints a week for all four. Never see choc or sweets or any luxury. Jim and I took them a bit of our tea and sugar and a bit of white bread and a few raisins and cigs.
The next night we went, she had made a currant loaf and you could count the currants, one here and one there. She was trying to make them last a long time. The flour was from our Red Cross, also porridge from them too for the babies. It’s a good thing we’ve sent them a bit of food or they would die from starvation. At tea I never saw the mother eat a thing, and she had very weak tea, no milk or sugar. No, she had an apple for a meal, and they’re severely rationed. We exchanged addresses, so I’m expecting a real double Dutch letter when I come home..
The air is filled with the noise of home-bound bombers. Too bad it’s dark, although they’ve been out in force all day. I’ve got my tent fixed up for the winter, electric light off a Jerry accumulator, oil stove like a Valor, petrol stove for brewing tea, etc, and tons of straw. It’s quite comfy now. I’ll bet we go home on leave soon and I’ve got to leave all this luxury. Still, I’ll go.

The rest cost me some cigs. I gave about 200 away. Still I’m OK. I have 500. I did hear you say you were going to send some. Well, if you have done it, it’s OK. I like to keep a good stock. Any luck with a wireless book? I hope so. I should like to get a transformer for our speaker.
I had a letter off Mrs Housten of Oldham. She wants to know about how her boy got captured.
Well, I’ve got a tent full all waiting for a brew of tea and some toast, and waiting for me to get it too, so I’ll sign off here.
I’m keeping fine and OK for everything. Cheerio. Love to you all, Alb.

December 17 1944. Sunday. BLA.
Dear Mother and Dad,
I haven’t gone to HQ yet, but I’m starting to address as such. I think I will be there tomorrow.

Well, I’ve seen a bit more of the world this past week or so. I had a night in Eindhoven and a night in Brussels and the next morning too. I’ve seen Ypres and Menin and Poperinge. I was at Ypres the other day. It’s a nice place and some good clubs.
I’ve been in one billet, now this is the second, and I guess I shall soon be in a third. The first billet, the people want me to visit them all the time. They’re so good and on Thursday night they gave me a supper - 2 eggs and a huge mountain of chips. The little boy, Andre, has been across this morning to see if I will come for dinner. Yes, it was OK - 2 eggs with chops and salad and mustard pickles and a glass of beer, what Ho! I’m liable to enjoy my stay here. I hope my third billet will be OK, although they say I’m welcome any time and I sure am.

Yes, Dad, we’re out of action, but even now can hear the guns of Dunkirk. They’re safe enough anyway.
There’s spit and polish sure enough, but I manage to keep out of it. I don’t know how I get away with it, but I do.
I’ve just acquired a regimental Christmas card. I could only get one some days ago, and now another one has come to hand, so I’ll send it to you. It’s quite a nice card.
I reckon you know I’ve had the parcel. It was very, very nice and in perfect condition and what a surprise. All that choc and cocoa and cake. Don’t worry about the weight, there’s no restrictions at all.
.
The pen nibs arrived OK. This is a sample. Maybe the writer is at fault now.Too bad I shan’t be over at Christmas, but maybe I shall get a leave before the war finishes. It’s a good sign this move we’ve made. We’re as near to Blighty as we’ve ever been since we landed.
. Cheerio. Love to you all.
Yours ever, Alb. Xxx.

January 26 1945. Friday. Poperinge Belgium BLA.
Dear Mother and Dad,
It’s come. Hm, what a feast I’m going to have now. It’s all very nice indeed, and in perfect condition. And thanks a lot for the mince-pies. Some were a bit crushed, but who can wonder at that. They’re so short I hardly dare pick them up. I’ve been on the look-out for it for a week, but the mail has been as poor as I’ve known it. Only 3 letters came for the entire Sqd yesterday, and only 3 on Wednesday, and all week it’s been like that.

Last night I went to a gramophone concert, the night before I went to an RAF show. Tuesday I was invited out to a friend who is a chemist. On Monday the entire electric was off and made writing hopeless. On Sunday we had our Christmas Day, and Sat was only one day after I wrote to you. So you see how time flies. meantime I should very much like to thank Mrs Bailey for her very nice letter and book. And Aunt Ethel for her letter.
I’m in the Toc H Club and I’ve had a struggle to get out of my billet. There’s a widow, her mother and nephew. They will keep me talking, and it was 8.0 before I could get away.
But still they’re good people. I have a room all to myself and the key. I can do exactly what I like, a nice double bed by the way. It’s quite good, I only hope we stay here a few weeks.
The leave you already know about, don’t you? Except that the allotment of men for February is only 47, as against 120 for January, and as my number is 334 on the list, I can’t see my name coming out in March or even April. I reckon by that time a big offensive will begin and all leave will once again be cancelled. Still we’ll see what happens. We can only hope the war will be over by then.
They’re putting signs up in Russian down here. Old Joe is expected through any time now. I’m proud of Joe, he’s knocking months off the war in a matter of days. I should like to see him in Berlin first. There would be no need for any more worry about Jerry for the next 100 years or so.
I guess you’ve had the same weather as we are having. It’s been so cold here, some 9° Fah or 23° below freezing.
When we were in Luxembourg, a jeep froze solid, anti-freeze water, oil in axles and gearbox, we couldn’t even push it cause the wheels were locked solid. My ink and pen were solid too. I think it’s been as cold as ever I’ve known it. It was cold in 1939/40, just not a patch on this.
I had a surprise on Wednesday. I saw Jack Pattison, and he told me he had had his leave, came back last Sunday, the lucky blighter. Well, he’s had it anyway. I wish I could get mine early.

The RAF show, the Regt was invited and all men were allowed to bring 2 civvies, making a total of 2400 if all accepted, but only about 140 were present. I think everyone is “browned off” as we call it. All we want is home leave and nothing less. I should think some of the brass hats might realise that one of these days. It’s very obvious isn’t it?
Well, you know I don’t want you to send anything that’s scarce, and I know blades are, but apart from that I rarely use blades in such quantity; perhaps 2 a week, and we get 2 from our canteen. And aspirins I very rarely take. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever had any medicine all the while I’ve been in the Army. I keep remarkably well, not even a cold, yet I’m still in my summer undies. I keep warm though. I’ve all the winter clothes, but I guess I shall hand them in in spring still as new, same as last year.
Well, there’s no startling news at all. I think I will write to Eve now.. So cheerio and thanks for the parcel.
Love to you all. Yours ever, Alb.xxx.

January 30 1945. Tuesday. BLA.
Dear Mother and Dad,
the mail has been very poor these last 10 days, not only for the individual but the whole Regt, but I haven’t done bad out of it. I’ve had 3 letters off Eve, one off you, Mrs bailey, Aunt Ethel and my parcel. Can’t grumble really.
I see you had a ham waiting for me. You certainly had better eat it or it will be eating you. The leave quota for February is only about 50, and by the end of Feb, 167 chaps will have had it or in the process of having it. It’s a long way to 334, even in another month’s time.
I went to the pictures last night to see Deanna Durbin and Mickey Rooney. I forget the title of the film. It was Sunday night. I keep thinking it’s Monday today. I’m invited out tonight to some old civilian friends. I could go our every night if I wanted to. I know quite a lot of families around here. This particular family I met in the cinema on Sunday. They made such a fuss, and I know 2 eggs and chips will be my fate before I leave them.

I suppose you’re having plenty of snow same as us. It’s 4 inches thick even now it’s compressed. I can’t see it moving until next April.
Did I ever tell you that jack Pattison has been home on leave? I only knew about it last Wednesday, the lucky blighter. I don’t suppose you saw him. I’m glad you understand the business of buying presents out here. I couldn’t trust anyone. My mate Chippy bought a watch for £8 in Holland, and after a week or two it went wrong, and there’s no guarantee. In fact it’s so erratic, he can guess the time better.
Then he bought a supposed solid silver ring with a ruby in it, and for a curiosity point of view he had it priced down here. It cost him £5 in Brussels and the jeweller here said he wouldn’t give him more than 15/-. It’s just a waste of money buying things. Either you get robbed or it’s difficult to get it home. I’m getting on all right. They say the first four years are the worst, or is it 5 years? I don’t know, but anyway, it’s much better than when I first joined.
I get 6/9 a day now, as against 5/- a week when I joined. I can save something out of that.

I heard from Jim Daniels. I understand he’s going on all right, but I haven’t replied yet. I rarely write to anyone outside the family these days. If I did I guess I wouldn’t be able to go out at nights, yet when we’re up the front, I never seem able to write outside the family for another reason, so I reckon we had better call the war off.

Does Uncle Sam remember Poperinghe railway station? Yes, it’s still there. It’s quite a nice little town and the Belgian Red Cross have opened a club for all the Allied troops. Then there’s the Talbot House. We can get tea and cakes and a ration of 20 cigs a day, and sometimes choc and biscuits; as long as we’re here I shall enjoy it. I still haven’t cut your cake up, but I’m eating the mince-pies and choc. They’re very very nice. I hope by the time the contents of this parcel have gone, it will be somewhere near leave time. 111 chaps have gone or will have gone by tomorrow, that leaves 223 to bring my turn around
I wish they would alter the quota and send us nearly all away while we’re out of the line; but instead they’ve cut it down by 60%. I can’t understand them at all. It’s just ideal now for leave. We’re only 60 miles from Dover.
Well, Mother, I’ll get ready for going out. I’m A1, so cheerio.
Love to you all, yours ever, Alb. Xxx.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.