Saturday, 6 May, 1944 - Stan's Letter

2364226                                  
Sergt. S. Bristow
Headquarters
15 L of C Signals                                                                                 144.
Cen Med Forces

6 May 44

My Very Own Darling,

It has been oppressively hot all today and I am just spending the last hour before turning in on the balcony of the Sergts’ Mess.

The sky is as only a Mediterranean sky can be – a deep purple, bejewelled with hundreds of twinkling stars, while up over the whitewashed houses the moon is raising her head, casting ghostly shadows onto the almost deserted streets (for there is still a curfew in force for civilians).

I’ve just been relaxing in one of our easy chairs thinking that this same moon is at this moment shining on you, too, & also thinking of those all too few nights when in the evening’s coolness we have taken walks together though Grimethorpe’s (to me at any rate) pleasant fields.  How I long to be back by your side, Darling, so that we can live again all the happiness & pleasures of such evenings!

The light is streaming out of the Mess’s open windows, whilst inside someone is quietly playing “I’ll See You Again”.  Perhaps he, too, is thinking of his loved one in England.  The “atmosphere” is just right, my Darling, so I thought I would knock off a letter to you whilst I was feeling sweetly sentimental.

Today has been quite a notable one, for besides being the hottest day we’ve had this year, it has also been our “anniversary day”.  Another sixth of the month is drawing to a close, Darling, and once again I’ve asked myself the question “How much longer?”  I do so hope that before another month rolls by we shall have started the long-awaited “second front”.  Only when that is successfully established shall I admit that the end in Europe is in sight.  Here’s hoping, anyway!!!

The event which has made this 6^th such a happy one, however, was the arrival this lunchtime of my birthday present.  Darling, thank you so much.  There’s a nice big thank you kiss by post – xx.  How I wish I could administer the treatment personally.

You are a nice and thoughtful Darling.  You struck right dead centre about my liking Rupert Brook poems – he’s one of the very few poets who I do like.  Cheer up, though, I’ll give you the opportunity of “converting” me when I get back to England.  Brook expresses my feelings so well in his poem “Granchester Towers”; remember - “My God, I’ll pack my bag & take a train & get me back to England once again!”

Would that I could!!  I love you and want you so much Angel!  I would do anything to get back to you quickly.  I have never desired anything half as much before as I now long for the life we are going to make together once I get back.  I am sure that our our waiting will be rewarded by lots of happiness.  Don't you think so?

Until then, keep my love.     Stan xxxxxxxxxx

Part of 'The Old Vicarage, Grantchester' from the book of poems by Rupert Brook that Grace bought Stan for his 25th birthday in March, 1944

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