Sunday, 27 August, 1944 - Two Letters

G.H.N.

27-8-44                                                                                 170

My Precious Darling,

It is Sunday evening and once more I am back at the G.H.N. after a rather quiet but pleasant week-end.  A week-end crowded with happy memories of the days we spent together in Grimethorpe, as all my days spent at home are.

When I arrived in Doncaster Friday evening I found my Father waiting in the bus station for me.  He was on holiday last week and Friday afternoon Mother had sent him into Doncaster to see if he could get some fruit for bottling.  Being a mere male he could not even see any fruit anywhere so he bought himself a magnifying glass and bought five pairs of kippers and then decided to wait for my bus coming in.  Really, men do buy some peculiar articles when they are sent out shopping.

Upon arriving home we inter-changed news and then I washed my hair and retired to bed.  This time to sleep well without a crying baby to disturb my slumbers.  I did sleep well too and did not waken until 12 midday Saturday!  Lazy, am I not?

Saturday afternoon I went to 19’ and met your Aunt Mary.*  She seems a very nice person.  I just missed your Uncle, he had left for London at 9 that morning.

John of course is still at Cranwell.

Saturday evening I spent sorting feathers for a pillow.  Yes Darling, another addition to our future home.  Feathers take such a lot of sorting through, that I am afraid it will take quite a few week-ends for me to get through them all.

This morning I was up at 8.30 a/m.  I wakened to hear the cock crowing on the farm and the sun streaming through my window.  There was a very pleasant smell of frying eggs and ham coming up from the kitchen.  Sunday mornings at home always seem so nice don’t they?  All that I needed to complete the picture was you by my side and for it to be our own home.  Until that day you still have all my love, Darling.  Grace xxxxxx

 * 'Aunt Mary' was Stan's father, George's, sister.  Mary was married to 'Rae' (Martin Rice Reeves, we don't know why he was known as 'Rae'), a Police Inspector in the London Metropolitan Police - hence him 'leaving for London' that morning.

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

27 Aug. 44.                                                                         196.

My Very Own Darling,

Another week-end has arrived and that means one less to the time when I shall be coming home to you.  Fancy August is almost past.  This month seems to have absolutely flown, but I suppose that’s because events have moved so quickly just lately.  This month has seen some heartening events, hasn’t it?

Your usual week-end letter arrived today, Darling (The APO are becoming quite reliable aren’t they?)  It had some disturbing news in it, regarding your immediate future.  I do hope that your interview with the Ministry of Labour representative turned out as successful as possible.  I was hoping that you would be able to stay at the General Hospital until I got back to England and we were ready to get married.  However, officialdom seems to have other ideas & who are we to quibble?

It will be quite a big wrench for you to leave Nottingham after being there for four years, or will you have no regrets?  What's going to happen to Kit and all your other friends who have just finished their training?  I suppose that they are in the same boat.

I’ve just come back from a place I know you wouldn’t like to have been with me – a boxing match!!  I think I have heard you say you didn’t like boxing.  The main feature was an exhibition bout by Joe Louis.  Unluckily I was late & didn’t get a seat & was a long way from the ring.  The stadium in which it was held holds 40,000 people & from where I was the ring looked about as big as a match box!  Still, I can at least say that I have seen the world’s champion

No, Darling, I haven’t read “1066 and all that” although its a book that I’ve always been “going to” read, but never succeeded.  I simply love books which make you laugh out, so I must get it and digest it.  I’ve just finished one called “The West Wind of Love” by Compton McKenzie, which I’ll send on to you as it has been given to me by a bloke.  I found it interesting because a great part of the plot is laid in Italy & many places to which I have been are mentioned.  It’s a bit heavy in parts when he starts discoursing on the Irish problem, but you may manage to get some enjoyment out of it.

A friend of mine has just come into my room with a big slice of water melon for me.  He says he hollowed it out and filled it with cognac and sugar last night so it should be good.  I’ll have my teeth into it in a moment when I’ve finished this letter.  Wish you could drop in and share it with me, Darling, and I am sure you do too!

Perhaps next year at this time, however, Darling we shall be sharing something much more lasting than water melon – our love.

Until then I must attempt to tell you on paper just how much you mean to me.

I love you so, my Darling.  Your Stan  xxxxxxxxxx

And here is 'The West Wind of Love', still on the bookshelf after 82 years and many journeys.

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