Sunday, 25 April, 1943

Sunday, April 25^th 1943                                                                           (17)

My Own Darling,

The bell of the little village church just down the road is ringing out its weekly call to worship over the surrounding countryside.  Its ring, echoing through the sunlit air, reminds on vaguely (an inexplicably, for Grimethorpe never had a bell which sounded so sweet!) of home and of peaceful Sundays of yester-year.

The villagers, bedecked in their Sunday finery, are answering to its bidding, and go in a steady stream towards the little white building, which with its red tiles and surrounding cypresses, makes quite a colourful vista.  The very calmness of the scene grips one and makes one feel so very far from the war and sleepily peaceful, sitting under an olive tree watching this Easter Day scene being enacted, as no doubt it has been enacted right down the years.

The war melts away in one’s mind’s eye, until, with a muffled roar, the guns roll out.  Yes!  Not many miles over the brow of the green hill which rolls up to the sky behind the Church, and at the same time as the Villagers gather to give their weekly thanks to their Creator and Saviour at Mass, hundreds of men are battering hell out of one another ! !  Life in these circumstances is very complex!!  One cannot help but marvel in the fact that these villagers, after seeing their homes shelled, machine-gunned and occupied by a savage enemy for several weeks, can still retain sufficient faith in life to go to Church on Sunday and give thanks for its goodness.  The only thing that they have to be thankful for at the moment as far as I can see is that we have “shooed” the Huns out!

It is a grand lesson to remember, however, and one I shall always think of when Life presents it little and, comparatively trivial, adversities to me.

No Darling, its not a sermon, but just a few reflections that passed through my mind this morning as I sat rather idly under a tree, thinking of previous Easters, of you and of home!  I thought that I must share them with someone, and you of course, as the one who has shared my innermost thoughts on so many occasions during the past year; you were the most obvious person.  It’s alright; there’s no danger of my becoming a local preacher when I get back home – I shall be too busy doing other things (and you know what they are don’t you?)

I have not had any more mail form you since I last wrote to you four or five days ago, but as it’s well over a week since I had an air letter, I am anxiously awaiting the return of the Post N.C.O. each day.   Nothing of note has happened in these last five days except for the fact that we’ve moved a few more miles – and in the right direction too!  It becomes more evident as each day passes that the Germans chose the wrong side to fight on.  I can’t describe how thrilling it is to see flights of 60 of our fighters sweeping over the sky at a time bound for the Jerry lines.  It is just the same sort of medicine the Germans gave us in France, only we are returning it with added interest.

I had an air letter from Mother last night, but as letters usually do which come from home, it had nothing much of interest in it.  Mother said she had just had a letter from you.

The main item of news in the letter was that John had just got the first instalment towards his farm – two bantam hens!  A humble beginning, but many great concerns have been started in a small way! !

Did you get any Easter eggs this year.  They are still as plentiful as ever here and the other day we swapped about a quarter of a pound of tea (which we had scrounged in the first place) for 17 eggs from an old Arab, so our Easter morning breakfast was assured.

Talking of breakfast, one automatically thinks of eating.  You would laugh if you saw us at dinner time now.  We have no less than five pills to swallow and then if we still have an appetite we can eat our dinner.  We get three vitamin B tablets, one ascorbic acid and one stabrine (quinine substitute) tablet.  It’s quite fun watching men swallow by numbers.

Well, that’s about all that’s new and so I shall have to close now.

I am still missing you terribly, Darling.  I think there’s a lot of truth in the old adage about absence and the heart.  I am sure my love gets stronger as the days pass by (if that is possible).

Until next time, then Darling, keep my love.  Yours Stan   xxxxxxx

8 p.m. Just received your air letter No. 15. Feeling very happy now, Darling.  Lots of love, Stan xx