Another week has gone by. Today is Monday 29th March 1943. Wash day for Mum. I haven't broken up yet for the Easter holidays. Easter isn't until 25th April this year.
Nothing much has been happening to me although in the big outside world, which I don't know a lot about - or at least I don't at this moment - it's a different story with a lot of fighting near Kursk in Russia and also in North Africa where the Afrika Corps and the other German forces are not yet beaten. And with the RAF getting more and more active.
At home, everything seems to go on as usual. Did the air raid siren go recently and was it enough for Dad to decide that my sister and I should sleep downstairs? I can't really remember. We certainly haven't been down into the air raid shelter in the garden with its mustiness and smell of paraffin fumes for a long time. But now and then I'm told to sleep downstairs, on the floor in a sleeping bag. How does Dad judge it to be the right thing to do? My place is on the floorboards at the foot of our grandfather clock. We've had this tall thing which stretches right up to the ceiling for a couple of years now. It belonged to my grandfather so it was my grandfather's grandfather clock! Grandpa was bombed out of his Handsworth home and his health never really recovered so that he died a few weeks later. I sometimes lie there in the dark, feeling warm and comfy, and I listen to the drone of a lone aircraft as it goes slowly on its way far above. I wonder who is in it and what they are doing and where they're going. They sound so lonely up there. No bombs fall and it was probably one of ours anyway. Slowly the drone fades away and we are back in silence again, apart from the steady ticking of grandfather's clock.
The news from Tunisia is a major source of worry to Mrs Milburn in Balsall Common. Good news always seems to be followed by disappointment. But, as she tells her diary, there are consolations. She has had a letter from an officer who is back in this country having escaped from the POW camp in Germany where her son, Alan, has been held for nearly three years. He is able to tell her a lot about how her son has been getting on. And the day before yesterday: " A pleasant morning about 11 a.m., when the grey skies cleared and the sun came out, warming up the world. I enjoyed biking to the butcher........ Many spring flowers were seen in London today, now that the ban on the sending of flowers by train has been lifted. There are some things people badly need, and flowers do keep up the spirits of townspeople in their wretched bombed cities. I am so glad they can have them. Our forsythia, daffodils, violets and flowering currants are all out now – not many daffs yet, but opening day by day".
My dad writes to my brother today. He tells him the home news and also what he's been doing with the Home Guard, and also what he did last weekend which, for once and very unusually, was a free weekend with Home Guard duties having been cancelled. He has a busy life, unlike mine which, as I have said before, usually consists mainly of "mucking about". Apart from school, that is, where my nose is kept to the grindstone. This new letter is Serial No. 2. What I am not sure about is whether Dad knows exactly where Graham is, which is at some place in Tunisia or whether it is just a general idea that it's North Africa. Apart from anything else the last line of the address to which this letter goes is "B.N.A.F." which is presumably British North Africa Force. I suppose that is what can be called "a clue".
But my brother is OK, so far, and that is all that matters. There is still a feeling of relief at home. But the world remains full of dangers, for him and, I suppose, for all of us. But that's the way it is, has been for years, and will probably always be. I can't imagine it ever being anything else. It doesn't really worry me. Except that it WOULD be nice to have a new Dinky Toy.
Eventually I shall know a lot more about what my brother saw and did in these few weeks of March 1943. But today I know nothing. I am still six, for another few days at least, and my knowledge and imagination can only take me so far. I can see in my mind's eye men in khaki uniforms with rifles and ships carrying hundreds of them and aircraft dropping bombs and the sort of big gun which my brother operates. But I cannot even begin to imagine what life is really like for a young man in the army, about to go into battle for the first time in a country I haven't even heard of until now.
I shall never really know, because I shall never have to do it myself.
Lucky me.
Nothing much has been happening to me although in the big outside world, which I don't know a lot about - or at least I don't at this moment - it's a different story with a lot of fighting near Kursk in Russia and also in North Africa where the Afrika Corps and the other German forces are not yet beaten. And with the RAF getting more and more active.
At home, everything seems to go on as usual. Did the air raid siren go recently and was it enough for Dad to decide that my sister and I should sleep downstairs? I can't really remember. We certainly haven't been down into the air raid shelter in the garden with its mustiness and smell of paraffin fumes for a long time. But now and then I'm told to sleep downstairs, on the floor in a sleeping bag. How does Dad judge it to be the right thing to do? My place is on the floorboards at the foot of our grandfather clock. We've had this tall thing which stretches right up to the ceiling for a couple of years now. It belonged to my grandfather so it was my grandfather's grandfather clock! Grandpa was bombed out of his Handsworth home and his health never really recovered so that he died a few weeks later. I sometimes lie there in the dark, feeling warm and comfy, and I listen to the drone of a lone aircraft as it goes slowly on its way far above. I wonder who is in it and what they are doing and where they're going. They sound so lonely up there. No bombs fall and it was probably one of ours anyway. Slowly the drone fades away and we are back in silence again, apart from the steady ticking of grandfather's clock.
The news from Tunisia is a major source of worry to Mrs Milburn in Balsall Common. Good news always seems to be followed by disappointment. But, as she tells her diary, there are consolations. She has had a letter from an officer who is back in this country having escaped from the POW camp in Germany where her son, Alan, has been held for nearly three years. He is able to tell her a lot about how her son has been getting on. And the day before yesterday: " A pleasant morning about 11 a.m., when the grey skies cleared and the sun came out, warming up the world. I enjoyed biking to the butcher........ Many spring flowers were seen in London today, now that the ban on the sending of flowers by train has been lifted. There are some things people badly need, and flowers do keep up the spirits of townspeople in their wretched bombed cities. I am so glad they can have them. Our forsythia, daffodils, violets and flowering currants are all out now – not many daffs yet, but opening day by day".
My dad writes to my brother today. He tells him the home news and also what he's been doing with the Home Guard, and also what he did last weekend which, for once and very unusually, was a free weekend with Home Guard duties having been cancelled. He has a busy life, unlike mine which, as I have said before, usually consists mainly of "mucking about". Apart from school, that is, where my nose is kept to the grindstone. This new letter is Serial No. 2. What I am not sure about is whether Dad knows exactly where Graham is, which is at some place in Tunisia or whether it is just a general idea that it's North Africa. Apart from anything else the last line of the address to which this letter goes is "B.N.A.F." which is presumably British North Africa Force. I suppose that is what can be called "a clue".
But my brother is OK, so far, and that is all that matters. There is still a feeling of relief at home. But the world remains full of dangers, for him and, I suppose, for all of us. But that's the way it is, has been for years, and will probably always be. I can't imagine it ever being anything else. It doesn't really worry me. Except that it WOULD be nice to have a new Dinky Toy.
29th March 1943 No.2
Dear Graham,
We received your very welcome letters Nos. 3 and 4 this morning. No. 1 was received about one week ago and No.2 is missing to date. Awfully glad to get news so quickly of your safe arrival. Mother was wildly excited. She had been worrying a lot particularly after reading the German claims of U-boat sinkings in the Atlantic.
Glad to note the trip was uneventful. Nobody who has not sailed the seas can realise the vast spaces. I think I only saw one ship during four Atlantic crossings. I suppose we shall have to wait the full news until we meet again. You certainly are doing a spot of travel!
Everyone at home is fit. Mother has had what appears to be an abscess in her face but this is getting better again. Sheila and Christopher are in the pink. There's not a lot of news of home. We have had your bedroom decorated and it looks very posh. Gardening is in full swing with beautiful weather and I was for Digging for Victory the whole of the weekend. I planted early spuds etc.
Numerous people have been asking after you – all the Home Guard and a number of people at the works. Home Guard is about the same. We had a very full weekend exercise yesterday week, we took over defence of the 'drome (Walsall Airport) and had a very wearying weekend – no sleep and on the go the whole time. It was a big stunt with about 10-20,000 Home Guards engaged. A usual military mess up. So to make up, cancelled all parades yesterday and start again tonight at Battalion conference and films tomorrow. We have a new lot including the German action films of France, Russia etc. I'm night manager tonight at the works but that will have to wait till I'm through at Aldridge. Thursday I've to give a talk to the officers and NCOs of "A " Company on German tactics and the Battalion are asking for me to give ambush demonstrations to officers of the Battalion in about two weeks time. So am getting pretty busy, at works and outside.
Home news is very scanty, practically nothing to report. I had a number of panel meetings on Friday and so took the opportunity to take Mother to lunch. Sheila continues with her Youth Club activity. Geoffrey Hall has gone to the South Staffs Young Soldiers Battalion. Dodd has gone abroad. Nevitt is home on indefinite leave, Winter goes in May, Underwood is in the Warwicks and was home on a weekend leave a week or so back. The anti-aircraft contingent are now officially transferred, 82 of them, and are getting on well with their training. Naylor has become a proper commanding officer and I believe spends most of his time taking salutes on the gunsite. Ramsay is fed up but I believe the majority find the work interesting. We have a very sorry crowd of oddments left but they worked splendidly on last week's exercise. By the way, the R stunt is working well. (?)
Headline news in brief. You should no doubt know what's happening in your corner. Over here nothing much moving except in the air. Berlin had a bashing on Saturday night, 900 tons of bombs in half an hour. We lost nine. They were out again last night, Friday was Duisberg and Essen had it good and proper a week or so ago. They are taking it all right now. There was a raid on north-eastern England and south-eastern Scotland two or three nights ago. 25 planes over, eight shot down.
I will send a parcel in a post or so with the things you want. Do you want any money sent? Let me know means to send it. Very interested to hear of another example of how the Jerries have picked that country clean of foodstuffs. Like a plague of locusts as usual.
What does G.B.D. stand for? (Part of the new address) By the way, I think it desirable to use this air letter service as much as possible as ordinary post takes so long. Glad to note you are keeping sober and presume you found out during your visits to France that you can't drink wine like beer.
All send love – write again quickly and by quickest route. All the very best, old chap, and look after yourself.
Your affectionate Dad
Dear Graham,
We received your very welcome letters Nos. 3 and 4 this morning. No. 1 was received about one week ago and No.2 is missing to date. Awfully glad to get news so quickly of your safe arrival. Mother was wildly excited. She had been worrying a lot particularly after reading the German claims of U-boat sinkings in the Atlantic.
Glad to note the trip was uneventful. Nobody who has not sailed the seas can realise the vast spaces. I think I only saw one ship during four Atlantic crossings. I suppose we shall have to wait the full news until we meet again. You certainly are doing a spot of travel!
Everyone at home is fit. Mother has had what appears to be an abscess in her face but this is getting better again. Sheila and Christopher are in the pink. There's not a lot of news of home. We have had your bedroom decorated and it looks very posh. Gardening is in full swing with beautiful weather and I was for Digging for Victory the whole of the weekend. I planted early spuds etc.
Numerous people have been asking after you – all the Home Guard and a number of people at the works. Home Guard is about the same. We had a very full weekend exercise yesterday week, we took over defence of the 'drome (Walsall Airport) and had a very wearying weekend – no sleep and on the go the whole time. It was a big stunt with about 10-20,000 Home Guards engaged. A usual military mess up. So to make up, cancelled all parades yesterday and start again tonight at Battalion conference and films tomorrow. We have a new lot including the German action films of France, Russia etc. I'm night manager tonight at the works but that will have to wait till I'm through at Aldridge. Thursday I've to give a talk to the officers and NCOs of "A " Company on German tactics and the Battalion are asking for me to give ambush demonstrations to officers of the Battalion in about two weeks time. So am getting pretty busy, at works and outside.
Home news is very scanty, practically nothing to report. I had a number of panel meetings on Friday and so took the opportunity to take Mother to lunch. Sheila continues with her Youth Club activity. Geoffrey Hall has gone to the South Staffs Young Soldiers Battalion. Dodd has gone abroad. Nevitt is home on indefinite leave, Winter goes in May, Underwood is in the Warwicks and was home on a weekend leave a week or so back. The anti-aircraft contingent are now officially transferred, 82 of them, and are getting on well with their training. Naylor has become a proper commanding officer and I believe spends most of his time taking salutes on the gunsite. Ramsay is fed up but I believe the majority find the work interesting. We have a very sorry crowd of oddments left but they worked splendidly on last week's exercise. By the way, the R stunt is working well. (?)
Headline news in brief. You should no doubt know what's happening in your corner. Over here nothing much moving except in the air. Berlin had a bashing on Saturday night, 900 tons of bombs in half an hour. We lost nine. They were out again last night, Friday was Duisberg and Essen had it good and proper a week or so ago. They are taking it all right now. There was a raid on north-eastern England and south-eastern Scotland two or three nights ago. 25 planes over, eight shot down.
I will send a parcel in a post or so with the things you want. Do you want any money sent? Let me know means to send it. Very interested to hear of another example of how the Jerries have picked that country clean of foodstuffs. Like a plague of locusts as usual.
What does G.B.D. stand for? (Part of the new address) By the way, I think it desirable to use this air letter service as much as possible as ordinary post takes so long. Glad to note you are keeping sober and presume you found out during your visits to France that you can't drink wine like beer.
All send love – write again quickly and by quickest route. All the very best, old chap, and look after yourself.
Your affectionate Dad
Eventually I shall know a lot more about what my brother saw and did in these few weeks of March 1943. But today I know nothing. I am still six, for another few days at least, and my knowledge and imagination can only take me so far. I can see in my mind's eye men in khaki uniforms with rifles and ships carrying hundreds of them and aircraft dropping bombs and the sort of big gun which my brother operates. But I cannot even begin to imagine what life is really like for a young man in the army, about to go into battle for the first time in a country I haven't even heard of until now.
I shall never really know, because I shall never have to do it myself.
Lucky me.
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