Tuesday 10th, Wednesday 11th and Thursday 12th September 1940
Bemerton
Tuesday
My Darling Chotie,
Thanks for your very prompt reply to my letter. You don’t know how wonderful it is to receive letters from you, Darling. It always cheers me up a lot.
When I think of your glorious hair, your adorably kissable mouth, it makes me weep to think I’m so near, and ‘encore si loin’. However, Dearest, as Shakespeare says ‘There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.’ How really true that is.
We’ve had rather a time for the past few days. The C.S.M. here now, is a brute. He’s about 6ft 3, with shaven hair and the appearance and conduct of a Prussian.
Now at the moment we have a trio. There’s du Rose (L’cpl), Gammage (also L’cpl) and myself, and everything we do, (or anywhere we go), is always done together.
Enter tragedy.
Gurd, (that’s the C.S.M’s name) is doing his best to make life merry hell for us, and is making a good job of it. He’s had du Rose on three charges this week already, Gammage on one, and myself on one. Now what makes him mad is that each time the cases have been dismissed.
There was a good show yesterday. In the morning, du Rose was walking to his tent, with his tunic undone, (which is permissible when off duty) when Gurd jumped on him, bawling:
“Corporal du Rose, what the - hell are you doing with your tunic undone?”!, and looking at du Rose’s stripes said, “I’ll have those down, as sure as my name’s CSM Gurd”!
Now during the afternoon, du Rose and I were walking along past the tennis courts, when Gammage, who was about fifty yards behind us bawled out “du Rose, what the - hell are you doing with your tunic undone" etc. in a perfect imitation of Gurd’s voice, when who should come out from the tennis-courts but Gurd himself, in company with several other senior Warrant Officers. I’ve seldom seen a man get so mad. He literally fumed. Ever since then he’s jumped on us for the slightest thing.
We went to a Regimental Dance last night and spent our last halfpenny. It was held at Bemerton about a hundred yards from the camp. There were about fifty A.T.S. women there.
About 10.30 off goes the siren, and we were recalled to the trenches with respirators and tin hats. (Some of those who were well away, took the A.T.S. along with their other gear.) Gurd, who is married, took one back to his tent and didn’t put up an appearance until this morning.
After about half an hour, the all-clear went and we repaired to the hall once more. Du Rose immediately fell for a girl in pink, and Gammage and I had our work cut out to protect her honour etc. He got quite mad when we repeatedly cut in on him.
Wednesday
I’m writing this immediately after tea. We were all lined up on tea parade, when the sirens went and we had to retire to the trenches before getting any tea. What abject misery! On top of which the tea was the worst ever.
I’m at present in the NAAFI as du Rose has received 10/- from home, and we’re celebrating.
Gurd pulled us up again today. At the moment he’s standing outside the NAAFI with his hands in his pockets. There’s a couple here who have walked out with hands in pockets. Gurd immediately takes his out and bawls “Three hours spud-peeling”! What a camp.
Thursday Afternoon
I’m just sitting in the tent having a smoke after a game of football.
Lapse of three hours……
Just as I was writing the last few lines a bloke in the next tent had an epileptic fit. It took three of us to hold him down. I had to ring for an ambulance and take him to hospital. What a show! I had the devil of a job to hold him down – I of course got no tea.
Well, Darling, I must close now, with all my love
Yours as ever
Dicker
PS I love you.
© Chotie Darling, 2010
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