Monday, 6 September, 1943

2364226                                                                                       55 (I think!)

Sergt. S Bristow
15 L of C Signals
Cen Med Forces

Sep 6 43      

My Very Own Darling,

As you can well imagine I have been thinking of you lots today.  Another month has passed, another month nearer to our ultimate goal, which I am sure has been brought nearer by our successful landing in Italy.  How will the Italians react towards this latest step of ours?

I have talked with quite a lot of Sicilians, who after all should know what their own flesh & blood think about things in general, & they seem convinced that Badoglio doesn’t really want to continue the war, but has to because the Germans have such a hold on his country.

It is too early yet to expect anything big to happen in Italy, but from the news bulletins everything seems to be progressing satisfactorily.

I am writing this to you on a troopship – I am indulging in another Mediterranean Cruise.  I was sorry not to be able to write to you before I left Sicily, but I had to move pretty quickly & so asked Mother to tell you the news that I was going back to Africa – for how long I cannot yet say.  And to think that less than two months ago, I was rejoicing on “seeing the last of it”.

When this journey was first talked of there was a possibility of my flying, but when the landing came off in Italy the available seats on the air ferry service were all snapped up for more important things, & I found myself on a boat again!

Naturally this was a disappointment, for it would have been a great experience to me, as yet uninitiated in the art of flying.

By way of compensation, however, I got an unexpected thrill yesterday when the boat called at Malta & I managed to get ashore for a few hours.  I have always wanted to see Malta (in peace time I once applied for a job on the Maltese paper) & having had a glimpse of the town of Valletta for a couple of hours & talked to some of the people living there, what admiration I already had for the Maltese people has been greatly strengthened.

Of course the thing that impressed me most was the harbour & its contents, but of course of that I cannot write.  I will say this, however, that having climbed to the highest spot in the town to get a “birds eye view” of the harbour, one found on looking down, a very decisive answer to the question “Who holds mastery of the Mediterranean?”  I think it has always been wishful thinking on the part of the Italians who have called this inland sea “Mare Nostrum”.

The results of the prolonged aerial bombardment by Jerry are very evident in the town.  There is no doubt that it has had a hammering, but you shouldn’t run away with the idea (as I am sure many people have) that this main town of Malta is a heap of rubble – far from it.  As with London, which took a good battering, the greater part is still unharmed, although I will admit that in comparison with England’s capital, Valletta is in my opinion the hardest hit.

Apart from the frequent gap in a street where a building had been demolished by a Jerry bomb, Valletta looked quite peaceful in the Sunday evening sunlight, as I clambered up the quaint streets, where many steps are reminiscent of the Cornish fishing villages.

In the main square & public gardens nearby Mr & Mrs Malta & their family were taking their Sunday evening stroll.  The strains of the hymn “Onward Christian Soldiers” was carried towards me from some church holding its evening service, by the evening breeze.  Standing there watching the scene one could not help but wonder if it was from their Churches that these sturdy Islanders obtained the courage & stoicism which has carried them so well over the hard years which are now happily behind them.

Watching the women made one realise that whatever the Maltese woman has given up during the past three years of war, she has retained her smartness & love of gay dresses & the square had much the same appearance as a Sunday evening fashion parade in England.

One point which quite surprised me was the transport facilities of the town.  Jerries efforts don’t appear to have caused any serious dislocation in this direction & in these days of transport rationing, etc. it was quite pleasant to see as many as 15 buses in the local bus station.

Valletta goes in for entertaining the troops on the Island & the visiting Jack Tars in a big way, I found out on passing into the centre of the town.

Queues were forming up for the second show at the cinemas, while in one street the local dance hall throbbed with the rhythm of “Bugle ball Rag”.  Each bar or cafe has a three or four piece band playing the latest British & American numbers.  Some of these bars are quite low class affairs with rather questionable “ladies” hanging around, but there are some quite nice ones.

Whatever the Maltese may say for or against British Rule (and talking to troops who have been on the Island for a couple of years one gathers that there is a pro-Italian faction on the Island) they must all admit that our stay has left its mark from a progress point of view.

Whether it is because of the months I have been in Africa & just coming from Sicily where squalor exists to a high degree, that made me notice the cleanliness of Vallettas streets & houses more than anything else I don’t know, but whatever it was, the people & their living conditions appear to be much higher than their Italian neighbours in Sicily.

Remarking on this to the proprietor of a bar into which I went for a drink, one got quite a kick out of his answer “Ah yes!  The Maltese have learned the way the British do things.”

Despite the statement in the preceding paragraph that perhaps Malta is not 100% behind Great Britain, I personally found that all the people I spoke to were exceedingly proud of their associations with the Mother Country.

I was sorry that I had only a few hours ashore, for the visit proved to be one of the most interesting experiences I have had since leaving home.

The boat I am travelling on is a Free French boat & as far as I can see, apart from the Royal Naval Liaison officer & the Chief Steward (who appears to be rather tipsy for the greater part of the day) none of the crew speak English.  Most of the crew come from Indo-China, I believe.  To complicate matters still further, they are using Egyptian currency on board.

Travelling around, it is quite a job keeping up with money matters!  At the moment I have no less than six different types of money in my pocket, English, Maltese, Egyptian, Sicilian & BMA!!

Why the Allies can’t evolve a General Currency so that the need for changing money each time you go from Point ‘A’ to Point ‘B’ is obviated, I don’t know – but then being ignorant as far as economics are concerned, that’s not surprising!!  I am enclosing a Maltese note for you as a souvenir.

As promised I am enclosing the results of the Italian photographer's labours, for either your approval or disapproval.  My opinion of it falls in the latter class!  One of these days I shall have my photograph taken & it will amaze everyone by turning out a good one for a change.

However, it will serve to show you that the hard (?) life I am leading is not wearing me out or aging me!!  The other handsome bloke is my pal who has been with me for about three years.  He is the chap I used to go chasing around London with on my leaves until I met you!  Not a bad sort of chap; you might meet him one day when the war’s over.

One bad thing about this travelling around is that it messes the mail position up.  I haven’t heard from you for over a week now & I suppose it will be another week or so before any letters catch up with me now.  Ah me!  What trials the war imposes upon one!!

Well, Darling, I think I have just about exhausted my store of news for this time, but I bet there’s one bit of news you won’t mind me repeating, & that is of course, how much I am loving you & missing you Dearest.  You are constantly in my thoughts – more especially my thoughts for the future.

Keep on loving me Darling, as I am loving you.

Always yours, Stan   xxxxxxx

Here is the photograph of Stan and his friend.  Why did they have the photograph taken together?  Presumably to share the cost - particularly as there was a chance that the photograph would not be developed and printed before the Army moved them on.  How young they both look!  Stan would have been 24 when this photo was taken.

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