ĂŰŃż´«Ă˝

July 30, 1940,.
Saturday. 6.0 pm. Tidworth.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I had your letter yesterday but I’ve only just had time to answer it. Alf Wright and myself are the only two of our squad that have been unfortunate enough to be members of the guard that go to Upavon Aerodrome. This means that we have little time to spare, because we are cleaning up after tea until 6.30, and we are off at 7 o’clock with full equipment on.. What do you think about Eveline having her cards? The lads here went wild when I told them about it, its certainly a dirty trick under the circumstances.. Thanks very much for the postal orders, I broke into one last night at the RAF NAAFI. I had sausage and potatoes, B&B and tea, for 6d.
The drivers in our squad went night driving on Wednesday. It was good. We started at 10.00 and came in at 1 am. Up at 6 am as usual. They wouldn’t allow headlights and the sidelights, were blacked out, just enough about the size of a sixpenny bit, and the light they gave was like a couple of candles. It was a dark night but we got along all right. I enjoyed it. About midnight, we saw a searchlight flash on, and right away an aeroplane, travelling along without identification lights on, but in time, they were, turned on. The search lights were busy all night and I was surprised at their accuracy..
When we came back from leave, a lad from Brum had lost his tin hat and the same day nearly set the tank on fire with his respirator that had fallen on the exhaust pipe. He had the bill in soon after. The tin hat cost 9/6 and the respirator 30/-.
The weather is glorious here, not exactly kind to us tank drivers. Our boots and feet get unbearably hot and we put our legs over the side when we’re not driving. They are fairly easy to drive. Our squad have done marvellous on them. On Monday, we were on the Plains where we can’t do much damage and we were that good that on Tuesday we went on the roads. We had a trying time, the camber of the road is always changing, first we’re pulling on one track, then on the other. But for all that, our cruising speed is around the 30 mark; they will go to 45 all out. You should hear the engine at that speed, which is screaming just as though it wants to tear itself from the frame, and yet it will keep up for hours on end. Ford V8s are the engines. The only trouble is the petrol they use. On the Plains it is 3 mpg, and on the roads 5 mpg. I’m on church parade tomorrow, all poshed up. Well, it’s getting time for guard so I will have to close now. Good night all. Love to Mum, Dad and Levi.
From Albert. Xxx.
(The bit about me getting my cards,. Albert had forewarned me that he was having 48 hours leave. I asked the manager at the grocery store, if I could take time off. He refused, but I took the Saturday off. When I returned to work on the Monday, the manager handed me my cards as I had disobeyed him. Albert’s leave allowance was taken up with his travelling arrangements, changes at three railway stations and delays. It just goes to show that no-one is indispensable. At the time I was in charge of all the rationing arrangements at the store. Eveline, April 1997.)

August 1940. Thursday night. Albert of Tidworth.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I’ve had your letter this morning, thanks. We’ve had a very exciting time this week. On Monday I was in clover. There wasn’t enough tanks available so ten of us went out on motor bikes. It was grand to be on one again. They’re all 500 Nortons and they can’t half move. We had all kinds of tests. High speed test, then over the Plains, through woods, around the tank test course, up steep hills with loose surface and down them. I think the bike did everything. I never thought a bike could stand so much knocking about, but it was just the same old bike afterwards. I was informed that I had passed out on motor bikes and there was no need to have any further lessons. Much to my disappointment. Our instructor was, by the way, a Manchester chap who earned his living by riding in the Wall of Death at Belle Vue with a lion on a platform attached to his bike, and he also pulled a girl round on roller skates. That’s the kind of instructor, isn’t it? He certainly put us through it. Only three of us passed the test and the others are still at it.
Well, since Tuesday, I’ve been driving different kinds of tanks, and today I’ve had our biggest tank out on the roads. It’s 12 ton and fairly old. I kept it going full out for mile after mile and a despatch rider overtook us and told us we were on fire at the back. So I pulled up and we certainly were on fire. The engine was red hot and set all the plug cables on fire. We opened the trap and the flames and smoke poured out, but with 2 Pyrene extinguishers we put it out quickly with little damage done. We had to abandon it and get back to barracks on another tank. Well, I often remember Dad saying that it’s a tank I want, not a motor bike, but even tanks can’t stand the strain. I laughed when this happened and thought about what Dad used to say.
Tomorrow we are having visitors, they are the Press, ĂŰŃż´«Ă˝ and I think the film people. They’re staying all day with us. So on orders, I see, we have to put up a good performance with best suits, best shoes and best everything. I have been busy all night, polishing things up and it’s 9.45 now, just half an hour to go for lights out.
We can touch wood, we’ve only had one little air-raid in the last 7 days, that was for 20 minutes on Monday afternoon. No planes were seen and no damage as usual. It seems as though old Hitler has a fascination for the Midlands. We hear all about it on our own wireless. A chap in our squad has had a brand new set sent to him and we never miss the news now.

I’m glad they all like my photo; how do you like the coloured one? Eveline has sent me one and it’s very nice indeed. The chaps are crazy about it. It puts all theirs in the shade. Most of them have had their photos taken at the local studio and believe me, they’re absolutely terrible. They all admit it now that they’ve seen a decent photo.

Well Mother, it’s nearly time so I will say Goodnight. BestWishes to all.. From your ever-loving lad, cheerio. Alb. Xxx.
.

1940. Thursday night. Albert of Tidworth.
Dear Mum and Dad,
At last I have a night off. It’s been a pest this last week especially, we have been busy until 6.30 and then it was time to get ready for our trip to Upavon aerodrome, but that’s finished with now, perhaps as far as our squad is concerned for ever. We’re creeping towards the front row now. There’s 7 big squads behind us and only 2 in front. You see, as a new squad comes up, they push us up the front and then, when there’s no more room, they have a draft. We’re hoping to be in the next one. Our old Serg isn’t half giving his new squad something to think about. They’re just about all in. We cheer them up by telling them they’ve only another 13 weeks to go.
I’m getting on champion with driving. Today we’ve been doing 38 mph and, believe me, it’s just like thunder as we travel at that speed; but it’s good and very interesting. I can drive one almost as well as the car.
Have you heard off Aunt Polly yet because I haven’t. I’m wondering if she has lost my address.

I’m getting on all right for money and everything else, and I’ve told Eveline that I will let her know when I want a parcel, perhaps next Thursday or the week after. I hear that we will soon have a rise of 6d per day. That will make things a bit better.
A chap in our squad was asked by the Serg what his name was, and he said “Hill”. The Sertg said “Hill what?”. “Hill 60,” was the reply. You see, the last 2 figures of a chap’s number is mentioned when there is more than one chap with the same name. It made us all laugh, but he should have said “Hill 60, Serg.”

August 1940. Sunday 2.30 pm. Albert of Tidworth.
Dear Mum and Dad,
don’t get the wrong impression, but I’m writing this in bed. I think we’ve earned it though. On Friday night I was on the main guard and all day Saturday. In the morning I was trench digging. To crown it all we had an air-raid while we were half way through our dinner. It only lasted about half an hour and we saw a bomber squadron of about 20 planes absolutely vanish in all directions as two Hurricanes came out of the blue. It was lovely to see them. They went like feathers before a gale. That’s about 7 raids since last Tuesday. All of them didn’t do any damage at all at Tidworth. And fortunately they were all daylight raids. Bombs dropped on spare ground near to the station and I have a small piece of bomb in my locker as a souvenir.
.
There’s quite a lot of men come into the squadron lately, they around the 30 mark. One is a chap from Montreal, another is a teacher from Leeds University. Then there’s Jack Jackson’s pianist, and Smythe, the jockey’s son, David Niven, a film star and quite a lot of other posh chaps. They’re all the same price though in the army.

I’ve been having lectures this week on a bigger tank, and we get a fortnight’s driving, starting tomorrow. I think one or two days will be devoted to the motor bikes as well. Then the three weeks’ gunnery course, and that’s that. All finished, but at the present rate of recruits coming in I can’t see how we can survive five more weeks. The place is packed now and some have had to have tents. We can expect to be moved almost any day. Last weekend it was rumoured we should be off in a fortnight’s time to join a regiment, I may have a leave soon after I join. It’s so secret, 4 chaps were told to be ready for the first train from Tidworth to London with only 24 hrs notice, and two chaps had the same amount of time this Friday to go on a fitters’ course to Newcastle-on-Tyne. Of course I may be here a month or two yet, and as Eveline wants to send a big parcel for my birthday, I don’t know what to do. I will see how things are at the end of the month.

I’m thinking of going to the pictures after tea; they open on Sundays for the troops.
=.
There’s little news apart from air-raids, and even they are not news around here. Everything is working very smoothly and I’m having a nice time. I don’t want anything at all; I’ve plenty of stamps, blades, soap and all the other necessities. I will let you know if I do run short of anything..
Well, I must get my bit of rest in so good afternoon all.
Your loving son, Alb. xx.

Aug 11th 1940. Tidworth. Sunday afternoon.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I had your letter yesterday, it arrived all right with the 10/- note. Thanks ever so much for the money, but really I wish you wouldn’t send so much. There’s a rumour flying around that we are having a big draft from here in about a fortnight. Of course it’s only a rumour, it may materialise or may not, but if it comes off, I may be in a better position to buy Eveline a present and perhaps bring it home. a present.
I went to the pictures last night and I may go tonight. It’s been a lovely weekend. I have had nothing to do except the usual rifle, boots, buttons, equipment cleaning and a bit of washing, but I did nearly all this yesterday. I remember the time when all this used to take all the weekend, and now it’s just a matter of a few hours. We know just where to clean and where not to clean.
You’re right about Eveline telling me all the news, she certainly keeps me well informed.
Fancy Uncle Sam coming to see you. I thought he had joined the Army again, and you say he’s living in Whitmore. You may see a little more of him in future.
Most of our barracks were awakened last Thursday night with exploding bombs. I don’t know of any damage they did, but I slept all through and we didn’t have a turn out. They were close to here. That’s the first bit of excitement since our Serg. left us.
You’ll thank Auntie Janet for me please. I never knew there was such an institution, but it’s a good thing that there is. It’s all welcome and, as for the socks, you can keep them for a few more weeks. I still have the army socks and they’re quite good yet.
.
Ever since our Serg has left us we are having a fairly cushy time. I’ve just been along the veranda, and I see the new squad are blancoing and brassoing like Trojans. We’ve all been through it and I suppose their turn will come to smile at these new squads.
If you happen to have a Sunday Pictorial left, you will find an article on p 4 by Bernard Gray, called “On Parade”. It is about our squadron, that’s the chap who was taking our photos a few days ago. It’s fairly interesting, at least that’s our opinion.
Well Mother, I’m perfectly fit and all right for everything; thanks again for the 10/-. I must close now, good afternoon. Love to all at home, from Alb. Xxx.

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