Sunday, 2 April, 1944

Nurses Home
General Hospital
Nottingham

2-4-44

My Very Own Darling,

Here at last is the promised photograph*.  I hope that it reaches you safely and is not long on its journey.   I am able to send it a week earlier than I expected.  I decided to call in the photographers yesterday to see if it was ready knowing that it probably would not be until next week but my luck was in – so here you are.

Do not mislay this one Darling I do not think I can face the ordeal of the camera again and another thing – the camera may not stand the ordeal again!

I am writing this Sunday afternoon.  It is a miserable day – throwing it down with rain and cold too.  However, there is a nice fire burning so it does help to make life a little more pleasanter.  Nearly tripped up over my grammar there – but then I guess I often do!

One disadvantage of Sunday is that there is no post to look forward to.  The other six days of the week I always wake up thinking “There might be a letter from Stan today.”  Even when there is not one from you there is always the possibility that there might a letter by the late postal delivery but Sunday just drags on with nothing to look forward to at all except that it is one day less to the time when we shall be in each others arms again.  How I am longing for that day Darling.  You must be tired of hearing that now – I have written it so often.

Next week-end I should be at home.  I hope to go Friday and return Sunday evening.  Sister is away this week-end so I guess the weather at the moment does not make much difference to me as I am “on call” should I be needed.  That means that I cannot go out, even I wanted to.

To-day has not gone very smoothly so far.  To begin the day with I had a quarrel with the doctor on my ward.  On each ward there is an Honorary – or specialist whichever you like to call him and he has an assistant or house-surgeon.  Most of the ones we get these days have just qualified – and I am afraid have to have a lot more experience.  The one we have at the moment is called Pearson, the Honorary being called Mr Allen.  This morning – to get back to what I started telling you – Mr Allen started grumbling about us having taken several cases from another ward and asked Pearson what he meant by taking them.  Pearson had the nerve to stand there and say that he had no idea we had taken them.  I know very well that Sister had told him about these cases and I had also told him.  However, the little --- stood there and let me take all the blame and believe me when Mr Allen is annoyed he is not very sweet.  In fact for five minutes I wished I was anywhere but on that ward.  It is not the first time I have had to shoulder responsibilities for him, he ought to train his memory better, so when Mr Allen had gone I told Mr Pearson several unpleasant things about himself.  I guess that for the next four days we will not work in harmony together!!

Here I am, telling you all my troubles again.  You must be tired of hearing them all.

Same day – 4 hours later

Could not finish this in time to catch to-day's post collection as I suddenly realised that it was time to go back on duty.

This evening passed along quite smoothly with no further friction between the dear doctor and myself.  In fact I think he has felt rather sorry for his mean trick of this morning and has been just a bit too sweet for my liking.  However I felt rather sorry for him and knowing Mr Allen’s wrath I guess I might have done the same thing in his position (though I doubt it) so I decided to let the matter drop.

Now Darling, I am sure that you will have read enough of my letter all about something which cannot possibly interest you and I daresay you do not know what I am talking about as I will change the subject to something that will interest you.  Yes, my Dear, it is the old, old, story – I love you.

As I write these words a memory comes up before me of a cold night when two people stood by a front gate outside a certain house numbered 56!  Yes, these two people were you and I.  I was in your arms, Darling, and I can remember you asking me if I loved you.  Do you remember my answer?  Yes, I said that I was not quite sure but that I thought I did!

What wouldn’t I give to repeat that experience at this very minute.  I am sure that I love you and you alone more than I have ever been sure of anything in my life before.

Darling – it will be a great day when we see each other again.

I miss you so much Darling and at times I feel so lonely with you so very far away and then I wonder how you must be feeling away – not only from me but from everybody you know.  I guess you often feel as Rupert Brooke must have felt when he wrote his “Granchester”.

Somehow, I think that we have got over the greater part of our separation and that it may not be long before we are together again.  We shall just have to keep on hoping and praying I suppose.

You will always be mine as I know I am yours and always have my love.

Goodnight Precious, Grace  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*  I think that this is another print of the photograph that Grace sent to Stan some time ago.  Stan had to admit that the original got lost on the journey into Italy.

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