At the beginning of June 1942 the German Army advanced on the Crimean Peninsula (in the north of the Black Sea) and battled fiercely to take the well defended port of Sebastapol. In the Atlantic the Allies were haemorrhaging ships and supplies at the mercy of the U-boat wolf-packs. British code breakers at Bletchley Park were struggling to decipher the Enigma upgrade, which they called “Shark” and the Germans had cracked the Admiralty code (Naval Cipher 3). In contrast US code breakers deciphered signals from the Japanese Navy to reveal a huge task force had set sail to attack the Pacific US base on the Midway Islands. By 7th June the US Navy had won a decisive victory, critical to the war in the Pacific.
In Africa the Germans were again on the attack. On 21st June Rommel’s troops captured the critical Libyan port of Tobruk (which had been gallantly defended by Australian troops under siege for most of the previous year). The Allies retreated as Axis forces swept into Egypt taking thousands of prisoners at Mersa Matruh. Churchill, in America for talks with Roosevelt, was devastated by the fall of Tobruk. However, he obtained an agreement that US troops would be involved in an invasion of French North Africa (Morocco and Algiers) called Operation Gymnast (and later Operation Torch).
In Dorset, where Chotie lived (and was again working at Beales department store in Bournemouth) bombing attacks continue. This time the Royal Navy's explosives factory near Poole was saved by decoys on the heathland at Arne on the night of 3rd/4th June, although Poole was hit by a number of incendiaries causing serious fires. Mr Whittaker, a volunteer firefighter (and the future father-in-law of Chotie’s bother Jack), recalled throwing a number of smaller devices off Poole Quay into the water. There were other lucky escapes – most of the RAF petrol supplies for Dorset and Hampshire were held in the Hamworthy RAF depot and although they were blown open, the vast million gallon slick didn’t catch fire. A large bomb hit the Sona, a Naval headquarters ship moored at Poole Quay but didn’t explode until after adjacent buildings were evacuated. On 6th June it was Bournemouth’s turn to receive the attentions of the Luftwaffe – almost 500 properties were damaged in an attack on the railway line.
Dorset, with its central Channel position and proximity to Cherbourg, continued playing a critical role in Britain’s war effort, despite the loss of Telecommunications Research Establishment. RAF Hurn (now Bournemouth Airport) was used as a base to fly SOE (Special Operations executive – spies!) to France, as well as supplies for the French Resistance, while a small aerodrome established north of Sherborne was to become the Fleet Air Arm station at Yeovilton (RN Fleet Air Arm Museum website).
In the British Reconnaissance Corps nomenclature changed on 6th June adopting the cavalry terms of troops, troopers, squadrons and regiments (the army’s reconnaissance role had traditionally been discharged by the light cavalry). Already in 61st Recce (the unit Dick fought with for most of the Western Europe campaign), Eric Postles was training in Northern Ireland for the rest of 1942.
Dick, still training with the 1st Air Landing Squadron, was based at Bulford on Salisbury Plain. He was granted 10 days leave from 10th June and went home to his family at Pagham, Sussex. Ironically, 1st Air Landing went to train on the Dorset Coast at Kimmeridge while he was away. Back in Wiltshire Dick was sick with bronchitis. By now he must also have been diagnosed with temporary hyperglycaemia (“sugar in the blood”) and was awaiting transfer from the Airborne. Although he was not diabetic the risk of possible problems meant he was one of the many weeded out at this early stage of training (otherwise he could have been involved in the brave fiasco of the bridge at Arnhem , which gave eternal fame to the 1st Airborne Reconnaissance Squadron. He wrote again to Chotie on 28th and 29th June:
Letter written Sunday 28th and Monday 29th June 1942
1st Air Landing Sqdn
Recce Corps, Home Forces
Sunday
My Darling,
Thanks for letter with all the news.
I've started writing this letter without much hope of finishing it this evening.
However, the fact that I've started it is certainly a move in the right direction. It is such a devil of a job to find anything to write about in this God-forsaken dump.
I went out this evening but came back after half an hour or so - there being nothing whatsoever to do. The Garrison Theatre, although a very good show only has the one programme for the week, and once you've seen it, it's no use going again the same week. There's a play on next week, - “While Parents Sleep”, which I've seen, - but I shall go again, as of course it will be a different cast, etc.
I've been sick for the last week with a sore throat which developed into bronchitis or so the M.O. said. Personally I didn't agree, but also didn't argue as it gave me a cushy time for a few brief days - no P.T. etc, of course.
I managed to go into the nearest town (?)* on my day off, yesterday. It boasts some very excellent pubs – the “George” Hotel and the “Bell” being very
famous in Georgian days. The beer however tasted very flat - perhaps because you were not there with me. I had no one to talk to about Herne Bay and the various professions which help to make the social system what it is. Just imagine what you'll have to put up with when we are married... but perhaps you'll see H.B. for yourself and perhaps I'll have a profession...
I haven't yet heard from home and am getting a little worried on that score. I hope Mother’s all right - but maybe I'll get a letter tomorrow. There seem to be so many worries that separation brings so cruelly in its wake.
Does this letter seem very morbid, Darling? I don't want you to think that
I'm too browned-off**. After 2 years in this Army I think I can stand anything.
I'm going on a three days scheme on Wednesday, so I won't be able to write of course - so don't be over anxious if you don't get a letter for some days.
It's nearly lights out, Chotie Darling so I'll say Goodnight my Precious, and write some more tomorrow.
Well, Lulu, it's now Monday Lunch-time so I'm writing a bit more.
It's terrifically hot today - and we have to wear respirators on Monday morning. Was I exhausted! I'm now trying to get an hour's relaxation before going on Parade this afternoon.
I may go to the Old Garrison to-night and see this wretched play - that's if I can get out in time. That's one of the troubles here; even if there was anything to go out for, we rarely get out before Seven pm or so - which is rather late.
Well, Darling, by the time you get this letter, I’ll be on this stunt so I hope to write again next Saturday or perhaps Sunday - and I'll say bye, bye for the present, and remember, Darling, I still love you, very very much.
All my love, Chotie Darling
Dicker
*Amesbury
**Dick must have been disappointed to be transferred out of Air Landing after only a couple of months. (After training in Tunisia from April 1943 1st Air Landing Squadron went on to be involved in the invasion of Italy near Bari in September and Operation Market Garden in September 1944, when the elite 1st Airborne were sent in to defend "a bridge too far" at Arnhem with disastrous results. (Dick was among the ground forces racing towards Arnhem.)
© Chotie Darling
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