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Showing posts from August, 2024

Two Letters - Sunday, 30 August, 1942

Note: on his return to Darlington, Stan has been transferred to a new posting   G. H. N. Sunday morning      My Darling, It was grand receiving your letter yesterday.   I am so glad you enjoyed your short visit here – I enjoyed it just as much as you did. I suppose that a few hours after you receive this you will start on your journey back to Darlington – and the new office.   I guess things will not go down too well at first – especially after the bother of your leave.   I do hope things are not too bad for you – I should hate there to be trouble on my account. Anyway darling, I wish you luck. Things are just the same here, except that the weather is a bit cooler – thank goodness. I went to the dance last Friday.   It helped to lift me out of my mood of depression.   We had quite a good time.   I also went to a dance last night – a police dance. I went to the Assistant Matron’s office last night for late leave to go to the dance and had a slight argument with her (Asst.

Friday, 28 August, 1942

The Nurses Home General Hospital Nottingham Friday, 3 p.m.     My   Darling, It is just over 24 hours since you left me yesterday but it already seems like years, although the memories of our time together are still very vivid. I agree with what you said about our love being the “real thing”.   It is darling, I do love you.   It is terrifically hot today.   I think it is hotter than yesterday – if that is possible.   What sort of a journey back did you have and how did you find everybody at home? I thought about you at about six-o-clock last night.   I imagined you sitting outside in your flannels and sandals after having had a big tea, which I bet you were ready for. I find writing your letter an awkward job.    No! Its not a case of finding something to talk about but I am lying on my tummy, sunbathing and trying to write and this is the result. It is dreadful on duty in this heat, running round in those thick horrid frocks. A little spider will persist in runni

Thursday, 27 August, 1942

19 Burntwood Road Grimethorpe Thursday evening      My Own Darling, Its just 11 p.m. and difficult to realise that 24 hours ago I had the thrill of holding you in my arms and now it cannot be repeated for another seven weeks.   I had a walk outside a few minutes ago.   It is a grand night & there is a big moon shining in a cloudless sky.   I don’t know why it couldn’t have been like that on Tuesday & Wednesday evenings, do you?   Well, Angel, I must thank you for the way you looked after me whilst I was at Nottingham.   I enjoyed every minute of the two days – up to the time when it came to say “Goodbye”; then everything fell flat, as you remarked. I felt very lonely as the train pulled out of the station.   There was an A.T.S. in the carriage I was in & she was in just the opposite mood to me.   She was bubbling over with excitement, for she was going on leave to get married.   Do you know, Dear, she made me feel quite envious!   But after being with you for th

Around 22 August, 1942

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G.H.N.                                                                                 My Darling, I suppose that by the time you receive this letter you will have started your leave and be only twenty odd miles away from me. I think that if you meet me at about quarter past two it will be alright.   That is giving me fifteen minutes in which to change and make myself presentable. The best place to meet is outside the Castle gates.   It will be quite easy for you to find the Castle and only about three minutes walk from the centre of the city. First of all find the city square, which as you can guess, is in the centre of the city.   Then find Fryor Lane – no it is not a narrow lane, quite a decent road in fact.   Walk up the road and there in front of you will be the Castle. I am afraid that I have had to write this in rather a hurry, so forgive it being brief.   I do hope you have no difficulty in getting fixed up and in finding your way around. I will make a little plan

Monday, 17 August, 1942

The Nurses Home G.H.N. Monday    My Darling I am having my half-day Tuesday – day off Wednesday next week.   I asked for it at the beginning of the month and Sister said I could have it so I hope it will be convenient for you. I often wish we could see each other more often than once every two months but as we cannot until this silly war is over I suppose I just ought to count my blessings and think myself lucky that I am seeing you next week.   I am really darling – I am getting quite excited.   Its been like waiting two years not two months. I feel as you do about the last week.   The time simply crawls along and each minute seems like an hour and I look forward more and more to your letters – if that is possible.   I am hoping and hoping that this good weather holds. Did I tell you that the last snaps were not a success?   I am sorry my dear but I will let you see them next week and see what you think. The dance we gave last Saturday was a success.   Everybody had

What is Happening to Eric?

  You may be wondering what has been happening to Eric over the last few days.   This is the story that Eric told me, over 45 years later: The ship, having been hit by four torpedoes, broke up and sank very quickly.   Eye witness estimates say it only took four or five minutes.   Eric leapt in the sea and, joining up with a couple of other men, they kept together, staying afloat.   Because the Eagle was escorting a convoy, there were ships around to pick up survivors, but Eric and his companions were not rescued until they had spent more than two hours in the water.   Eric was found to be suffering from hypothermia and was hospitalised in Gibraltar.   When other survivors were being transported to the UK, Eric was deemed too ill to travel.   A total of 929 men were saved from the Eagle's crew and 131 officers and men died.

Friday, 14 August, 1942

G.H.N. Friday     My Darling, I am afraid that this letter will not be very long as I have only twenty-five minutes in which to write yours and mothers in – and now for the good news – Eric is safe. I did not know about the sinking of the “Eagle” until yesterday morning – it was terrible not knowing anything and then mother’s telegram arrived at 1.15 p.m. yesterday telling me that he was safe and well.   Darling, I was so relieved and thankful.   I am hoping that he will get home for a little while now. Thank you for your kind letter my dear.   I guessed you would be thinking about me.   I am sure you will be as thrilled with the news as I was. It is so funny, isn’t it, how one cannot always find words to express one’s feelings?   Maybe I will be able to tell you when I see you how much that letter meant to me. Thanks for the “bit of Scotland”.   I think that I will take it with me when I go for my next exam (which will not be for a few months) it might bring me a bit of

13 August, 1942 – News of the Sinking - and a Telegram

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  This cutting from the Birmingham Post shows that news of the sinking of HMS Eagle was confirmed on 13 August, 1942, the sinking having been announced by Germany.   The article states: “In order to avoid anxiety, the Admiralty policy is to endeavour to inform the next of kin of a ship’s company before announcing the loss of one of His Majesty’s ships.   At the time of the German announcement about H.M.S. Eagle the Admiralty had no information about survivors.   The Press was therefore asked not to publish the German claim, in order to avoid causing unnecessary concern…..”   At lunchtime on 13 August, Grace received the following telegram from her mother:

11 August, 1942 - HMS Eagle

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Grace’s older brother, Eric, was a mechanic in the Fleet Air Arm, serving on board the aircraft carrier ‘HMS Eagle’.  On 11 August the Eagle was protecting a convoy taking supplies to the besieged island of Malta – a key strategic base in the Mediterranean.  The Eagle was hit by four torpedoes fired by the German submarine U-73 and sank within four minutes.  Most of the crew were rescued, but 131 officers and crew lost their lives. Grace would know nothing about this when she wrote the letter below on 11 August.  News was closely managed by the government and events such as this were often not reported for several days, until the Navy was in a better position to inform the families which men had survived and which were lost. The Nurses Home General Hospital Notts.                                                                                            Tuesday     My Darling You had me awfully worried until yesterday afternoon as I had not had a letter since last Wedne

Saturday, 8 August, 1942

The Nurses Home General Hospital Nottingham 8.8.42     My Darling, Saturday and no letter from you!   I received your last letter Wednesday and have looked forward to each post – hoping and hoping that it would bring a reply to the letter I wrote to you last Monday. I have come to the conclusion that either my letters are not reaching you or you are very busy.   As the former may be the case I decided to send this letter to your old address so that there will be a letter waiting for you when you get back, plus two old ones, nearly a fortnight old. I do hope you have a decent journey back.   The weather here is dreadful, and I think there is nothing worse than travelling in wet weather, so here’s hoping its fine “up north”. We have had a rest from the silly old siren for a few days but as I was on fire watching duty again last night the siren had to go.   There were just a few stray planes around – nothing to worry about. I had a letter from home this morning.   Vera s

Wednesday, 5 August, 1942

The Nurses Home G.H.N. 5.8.42      My Darling, So you have had no letter from me for a whole week.   I expect that by now you will have had the one I wrote Monday.   You do sound to be stuck in a desolate spot.   I feel so sorry for you (I mean that too.   It isn’t sarcasm). How old are the pictures they show at that tin shack picture house?   I bet they go back to the days of Charlie Chaplin in the silent films.   When I read about the fish, chips and ice-cream being mixed together well – I will not say what sort of queer feeling it gave me in my tummy. You did not bore me with telling me all this, I like to know what you do and see.   What about the scenery in that part of the world.   Is that disappointing too? It is my half-day today and as I write this I am thinking that in three weeks time I shall not be writing to you – I shall be with you! It is my half day to-morrow too.   Lucky person aren’t I?   We are getting an extra half-day with it being August Bank Holid

Monday, 3 August, 1942

The Nurses Home General Hospital Nottingham 3.8.42   My Darling Stan,   I was so thrilled this morning to receive two letters from you.   I was sorry to hear you have such a dreadful cold.  I wondered how I had caught my cold but now I have come to the conclusion that you posted some of your cold bugs in your letters to me and so transmitted your cold to me.  I suppose you will say it is improbable and well, maybe it is and maybe it is not.   As I write this the “Alert” is on and a Jerry is hovering in the clouds.  He is becoming a much too frequent visitor these days.  The siren went during the night and I was on fire watching duty, which meant that I lost an hour’s sleep.   So you are having a busy time in Scotland.  Sorry they are keeping you so busy but maybe it is a good job, you know how the old proverb goes – “The devil always finds something for idle hands to do.”   Now I am making horrid remarks but you know that I do not really mean them and that I do trust you Darling, it wi

Sunday, 2 August, 1942

The Nurses Home   General Hospital Nottingham Sunday – 2.8.42   Darling Stan,   How is life in the Highlands suiting you?  It seems ages since I last heard from you but I suppose there will be a letter from you to-morrow.  I hope so, I look forward so eagerly to your letters.   The wedding yesterday went off quite well.  The bride was in white figured satin.  She is very slim and small, she certainly made a beautiful bride.  The church is a very old one and built, I believe, in thirteen hundred and something.  A white wedding in an old stone church always makes a lovely scene.  Or at least – I think so.   We collected our other snaps yesterday – they are not very good.  In fact, two did not turn out at all.  I am having the head and shoulders of one done for you but I am warning you, it is not very clear.   I have not much news for you.  This is a poor sort of a letter is it not?  Life is just the same day after day.  How I am looking forward to three weeks on Tuesday.   No more for no