Category: 1940

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 9 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

ALBERT HOUSE. COLNE. LANCS. TEL.NO.282

9^th April.

My dearest Ronnie,

I have just been listening to the one o’clock news, and it has give me the pip. Germany invading Denmark and Norway! What will happen next?! What a shock it gave me. I had never imagined such a thing. I hope to goodness the government had.

Oh dear, I am so worried about you. Where will you have to go. That’s what I am asking myself all the time. It is terrible, terrible. I do want to see you so badly. If there is any chance of you getting off I’ll get off somehow I love you so very very much that it is agony to be away from you and not to know for how long. I just don’t seem to know a thing only that I love you terribly.

The whole world’s messed up and I want to run to you and bury my head in your coat, and the one thing I want to do I can’t.

I have your photo here in front of me, and you look so real I can almost smell that nice clean Ronnie smell. It is a lovely photo. You look so cute, and if I look at it a long time as I often do, you come alive. If I smile at you you smile back at me, if I have tears in my eyes you have tears in your eyes too. I’ve bought a beautiful frame for the big photo and a little case for the postcard size – so as I can carry it about with me.

I’m sending you the wee one of myself I said I’d get from Marie Pod. She couldn’t find it when I asked for it before, but I got it today. The case is not at all nice, but the real leather ones were too dear for a girl who is saving up to buy some furniture!

Darling I’ll have to go now but will rush hoe to finish this. How I love you.

I’ve no time for more darling. I’ve just come home and am going to have Supper. Dicky is posting this. I want to phone you tonight if I can find your number.

I love you prescious.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses,

Kathleen

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7:15PM 7 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne.

7^th April

My dearest Ronnie,

As you are expecting a nasty letter from me today, I shall disappoint you by writing a nice one! It is too bad that you think me such a snarly mangey ill tempered woman, and I just can’t imagine how, with this opinion, you still manage to love me. But it is quite apparent that you do, and that is really all that matters to me.  I just adore you still inspite of my peculiar way of showing it, and it is only because I miss you so much that I get so vile. Somehow it is so depressing working every day and having no one I can really talk to. You have no idea how I miss you, and what a terrible void there is in my life when you’re not here. Everything is so different, and I just don’t seem to be the same person without you here to talk to, and to hug and love me. You really don’t know how much I love you. You just can’t – or you would gasp with amazement.

You mean simply everything to me and you always will. This war must end soon because I just can’t go on living without you. It will end in September or I shall bust. My will power’s done a lot so far, so it’s going to do some more.

I am worrying about you moving South. Hove you any idea how long you will be South before you go abroad? I do ask some impossible questions, don’t I. It would be so much easier if I knew what you were ding, but of course you never know till the last minute yourself.

Moué is nattering for the table to play ping pong with Marj, but I refuse to move till I’ve finished this letter. The girl’s a pest.

It is lovely to be at home for a bit. I arrived back about quarter to twelve. I had a bath and changed. After lunch I had an hours sleep. I am going to see your Mum and Pop for a little tonight as I told you over the ‘phone. I shall have to go to bed early as I was very tired last night.

Moué and I went to see “the Little Princess” at the Savoy and enjoyed it very much. I’m afraid it made me weep in parts. I wasn’t in bed till half past eleven and getting up at seven was nearly too much for me. I did feel vile getting up when everyone else was sleeping peacefully – even Jenny and Katie. I had to make my own breakfast. Of course, it was only a boiled egg!! I felt very lonely and badly done to.

Oh dear, what a baby I am. I do want you so much. I want you to look after me, and pet me, and spoil me. You know I feel like a kid whose been sent away to school very young and can’t do without its mother.

Darling, I just can’t ever tell you just how much you mean to me, and I can only thank God that I mean as much to you. We have simply got to do something about it, soon.

Keep in close touch with me, my prescious (I wish you could) I am now going to knit some vest.

All my love sweet boy,

Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 5 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne, Lancs

Friday

My darling Ronald,

Another nice letter from you this morning to cheer me on my way. You are a prescious creature, and I love you very much.

This will be  short letter as I am just in. Well, I have just had time to wash and tidy myself, and it is nearly supper time.

I am used to the work now and it doesn’t seem to be tiring me as it did at first. I guess I’ll manage O.K. Mr Hatfield has told them on at the hospital that he is very pleased with. He liked the way I tackled the shoveling on some coke! Even our Joe has told someone I am a good worker – so!

But I will chuck it anyday to be your wife. You will soon be for away from me Angel Boy, and then I shall be sadder than ever. All this will make the tie when we are together forever so much more wonderful. That is one consolation.

I am going to wash my hair after supper – if I have the energy – as it is very dirty, and my face is getting greasy. I am not going to use the silverkryn that’s left from your hair wash because I am going to keep that until next time you come home on leave whenever it may be. I am very sentimental over you, my treasure.

I do wish you could come home on Sunday. I’ll be off at eleven: but I believe you will be far too busy. Oh dear, I would love to see you – even for an hour or two. You’re just all that matters.

Mrs Huxom arrived in Colne last night, and stayed here the night and didn’t leave till after lunch today. She is a very nice woman, very chatty and most artistic. She has far more about her than poor old Hux, but she has obviously spoilt him. She dears and darlings him all the time. I liked her, and wish her son would be more like her. She was telling Mum he wanted to join the Navy very badly, but his eyes prevented him from doing so, and it has been a great disappointment to him.

Marjory is going to the “National Dance” at the Imperial tonight. So is Hux and Dicky Rita, Bill Cattow, Nell Fisher, and I don’t know who else. It should be a good dance as it has been well advertised.

Darling, there’s the gong. Confound – though I am very hungry. I’m hoping you will phone tonight.

All my love prescious, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 4 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne.

4^th April.

My darling,

It was lovely to hear from you this morning before going out to the morning’s work. What a lot you mean to me my prescious. Nothing matters to me but you, and I live for your letters and phone calls when I cannot see you.

I have a feeling you will be moving south in a few days. Now you will get

• Pardon this. The pages were stuck together! –

farther and farther away from me. It gives me a lump in my throat to think of it, but what must be must be – and the sooner you go the sooner you return.

I wish you could get Sunday off as I shall be off from about eleven I am hoping. It certainly wont be much later than eleven. You could just make it for that time. But I don’t suppose this will be possible anyway. ‘Phone and let me know tomorrow night. The optimist!

Prescious, I would like to see you before you go away. I do love you so much, and it seems ages since Easter.

I am writing before my dinner. I should say lunch, – still! It is a vile wet day here. It seems to have rained ever since I started work. It should be quite pleasant in the Summer although the milk will be far harder to keep, and I shall be blamed if it doesn’t.

Joe Hatfield annoys me a good deal. He is a silly big ass, and seems to delight in discussing me with the boy who goes on the milk round with him. The lad tells me everything. I think the boy is definitely becoming pro-me, which is as well. He is a nice little chap with Welsh parents.

Beloved, I do wish you could come over on Sunday. I just want to love you again and make sure that you haven’t melted away, vanished into thin air or anything. I shall only get one Sunday half day in three – so that isn’t so much.

There goes twelve. I am just waiting for Mum to bring up my meal. I am having it here in the Club. There has been some very nice music on the wireless, and now there is a programme called “Music, Maestro Please.” Dance hits I gather. Yes.

I have just addressed your envelope, and I was just going to put Esq. instead of D.W.R. Never mind, it will soon be that again. R. Helme, Esq. R. Helme C.A. Then joy, Mr and Mrs – no sorry Captain (Major?) and Mrs R. Helme, House of Joy, Heaven.

12.35. I have just had a large meal: sausages, potatos, kale and fried tomatoe. Very enjoyable. I finished with an orange. And I’m now very full.

I shant be so late home today I hope. This week is evidentally busier than usual. I am glad to hear it. The school bottles take a great deal of extra time, and there wont be any over the week end.

I am thinking of buying some cheapish riding boots instead of these shoes and socks. I hear you can get them at that shop up the road where all the wellingtons hang outside the windows. Roes or something.

Darling I am thinking of you so much today, and I do want to see you. Please phone tomorrow night if you have any time. How I love you. Everything else waxes into insignificance except that: My love for you, and yours for me. Leslie Weatherhead says that love is not earthly but devine, and that it brings out the best in us. That is how you tell the difference between love and lust. Love is unselfish, and lust is Selfish. Love is giving, and lust is taking is how I should put it.

And I sure do love you my darling boy, because although I wouldn’t say I had an unselfish and thoughtful nature, I am always wanting to do things for you. Your happiness is mine, just as your unhappiness is mine.

But just now, living away from you is my chief unhappiness. I just can’t be completely happy without you – ever. I have proved that definitely in the last six months. The times you have been home are the only times I have been really happy. So it will go on.

In case I haven’t time to add a few lines (I almost said rows) when I come home tonight my treasure, I will give you now all my love with kisses cuddles and caresses,

Kathleen

Here I am home again at quarter past seven – tired and weary and hungry. It seems that half past six is a myth. We haven’t finished then yet!

Goodnight my presious.

All my love, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 3 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne.

3^rd April

My dearest Ronnie,

Here I am home for lunch, and it is only eleven o’clock now. I usually get in about quarter past, but thanks to the two boys who have fairly speeded today, I left Hatfields at twenty to eleven. I think they are both liking me. Long may it last, as it makes a terrific difference. I shall be later home tonight, as it’s weighing night. Dear, dear, I aint half working. I shall probably have Sunday afternoon off this week. I’m hoping for it every three weeks.

Beloved, after all that blether about work, it was lovely to hear your voice last night. I was so pleased you phoned me, and it made a lovely nightcap. Left a good taste in my mouth. I do love you, and wish I had more chance of showing you just how much. But someday, my treasure may it be soon. You are a prescious creature, and please take very, very good care of yourself so that you will be just the same dear Ronnie when you come home again.

Your Mother phoned Mum just before I came home, and she wanted to know if you were being moved as she hasn’t heard from you this week. Mum told her all she knew and said I would phone when I arrived home. I haven’t done yet, but shall when I have finished this.

To think that you were still here a week today. Heavens, it seems an eternity. Really it feels ever so much longer ago that a wee. Prescious, may it soon be over – all this saying goodbye. I am longing for the day when there will be nothing to worry about. At least, nothing that makes you ache inside. I feel like that all the time when you’re away. Still, it will be over in September!

Jack Payne is on the wireless for half an hour. Quite good so far. I am all alone. Wont you come and sit with me? In spirit.

Gosh, I am looking forward tonight. Though it seems miles away. It’s just a case of work and bed. Same with you darling, so I mustn’t grumble.  I just have to think how hard you are working, and then it makes me feel I am having an easy time.

All this because of Hitler and his Gang. I wish them Hell.

Young Hatfield was asking about you the other day. Referred to you as Ronnie too. He also spoke of “Michael Ogden” as if he were a bosom pal! He is a queer cove, Joe! I believe he has a fearful temper and throws things. He had better not try that with me. I’m afraid I wouldn’t appreciate it. Still, I think he’ll control himself. He knows Tom Parsons, Ray Swire, and Cecil Foster. He evidentally went to the Isle of Man with them once or twice in the past.

Well darling, I must go and ‘phone your Mother. Firstly, let me tell you I simply adore and worship you, and never forget that for a minute, a second. I am simply living for you and want you a thousand times more than I imagined it possible.

All my love dearest, Kathleen

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 1 APR 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne.

1^st April.

My dearest Ronnie,

The 1^st of April – a funny day to start work, but probably rather aproriate! Well I have got through some how and I suppose I shall get through the next six months or so some way or other. No, my treasure, I am afraid it wont be sixty pounds, but only thirty, for I feel sure I couldn’t stick it a year, and six months will be quite enough. That will mean I see him through the Summer. Anyway, the war’s going to be over in September!

The two boys are easy to work with, one being unusually intelligent, and the other being the other way poor chap. He is very small and underfed looking, and the work the poor kid has to do. I sure do have to work, honey. Today I have been let off lightly although I feel darned tired. Mr Hatfield let me off at 5.30, and the poor lads had to stay for the evening milking and thought it would be about 7.30 before they finished. What a life. No one should have to work as hard as that. It isn’t natural.

Beloved I may just make it with the very very greatest of will power – not to mention body power.

Your letter came before I went out this morning but I hadn’t time to read it until I came home for lunch. A very sweet letter my darling, and I don’t know why in all the earth we should have to be separated. It just isn’t right. You are all I asked for; but it seems that all the best things have to be waited for. The bad things just come pouring in! When I am married to you I shall be so happy I wont know what to do with myself. Or perhaps I will. Yes, definitely.

Oh dear, dear Ronnie, I do want you. I am nearly crying at the thought of the long time I have to wait. I have never been called upon to be as brave as this before. I suppose it will do me good. I am really a terrible baby, and being without you is like being without the sunshine. This war must end soon, or I shall go off with a pop.

I am feeling very tired and miserable, and would be a great deal the better off always on your shoulder, but as this is quite out of the question, please write me a long loving and comforting letter. Well, no it needn’t be long because you haven’t much time, but make it comforting and full of love.  

So it is fairly certain you are moving south soon. That will definitely mean you are going abroad soon I suppose. But the Autumn will bring you back to me, and I am going to force the Autumn to come soon.

Darling, I shall try to write everyday, but if I find it is too late at night, I shall write during lunch time when I shall have ample time. I have from eleven to half past one. Well I had today. It’s the afternoon that’s hard because it’s so long, and there is a great deal to do. I love you with all my heart my dearest dearest boy, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7:15PM 31 MCH 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.  Pencil “A Co”

Albert House, Colne.

31^st March.

My darling Ronnie,

I am beginning to get the dithers about tomorrow, but I feel that writing to you will help me a lot – just as seeing you would make me ten times more settled about it. Well maybe not, because it would make me feel more definitely that I should be marrying you, and not bottling milk.

Heaven speed the day my darling. That is the only thing that I really do want and long for. That is the thing that simply must happen: you me and our dear little love nest. Be it a mansion or “one up and one down” it will be heaven with you.

… Pause for cup of tea downstairs, which has put me out of my stride. Anyway, for the minute I have peace. The club to myself, but I suppose the rest will be coming up soon.

I am just thinking of last Sunday at this time. I would love to turn the clock back, then there would still be Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday – heavenly days. I did enjoy it – all of it. And do you realise that we didn’t have words – apart from about two over you going out of the flicks during – I mean before “God Save the King”, and that wasn’t very vital. I wish it was just then. Disagreeing with you is so much nicer than being away from you.

On Saturdays, I still think of the old Saturdays which I always looked forward to so much – going to the flicks with you. It was just the best bit of the week. But I never appreciated peace nearly enough. When it comes again I certainly shall. I think I shall go crazy with joy.

Oh blast, my writing is making me very annoyed today. I am fed up of it being so terrible, and I wasn’t to alter my style completely, but don’t seem to be able to. It is dreadful for an educated person, and I don’t know how you ever manage to read it. To think that you keep these illiterate scrawls.

That reminds me, I must get a big tin box with a lock to keep your letters and mine. I haven’t anywere else to put them at the minute, and will get into a hopeless muddle soon. I think Dad got his from Whittaker’s. I don’t know how much they are.

I bought a leather belt from Wildman’s yesterday, to put round my pants. I also enquired about leggings as I think they would look nicer than those thick socks and shoes. Mum has looked out Dad’s and they may do over my jodhpur boots.

Last night Dicky, Ria, Mrs Robertson and Miss Robertson who is blind, came to supper. They stayed till about twelve and we were feeling very sleepy.

This morning Moué and I stayed in bed, and were thoroughly spoilt by Mum who brought our breakfast up. We were disgracefully lazy, and stayed in bed till one. The last time I will be able to do that for a long time I guess. And by the time I can I shall be so full of vim and vigour, so strong and freshairy that I shant want to!

I have borrowed two books by Leslie Weatherhead from Joan. One on Sex and the other Christianity and Psychology. I shall have to read the former in the peace and seclusion of my lonely room.

Moué and Marj quite enjoyed the dance on Friday, but they weren’t particularly enamoured by Hux’s dancing. Nellie Fisher, Victor Leslie and Neil Hartley made up the party. Mr Leslie was evidentally in good form – his humour being dry and droll as ever. There were about 180 there, but they were not a very inspiring company. Loud folks on the whole.

… Now I have just had to go for a date. It must be the excitement about tomorrow. What if I do something silly. What if I put the steralizer on too high and crack all the bottles. Oh dear, dear dear.

Anyway, I will get a letter from you in the morning, and that will cheer me on my way. Oh darling, I do love you, and if it weren’t for the thought of you and what we will be to each other in the future – the near future I hope – I should faint by the wayside. You are just everything to me, as I know I am to you; and it will always be that way. Husband, wife, mother, father, brother sister, child – everything to each other. Oh my dearest boy, my heart is nearly bursting with love for you.

I shall go on writing to you as often as I can because it helps to write to you. I feel nearer you and I want you to know just all about me. Of course, I want to know all about you. So let me know whenever you can anything you are going to do, where you are going etc.

Beloved, I have some more letters to write now, though I am not feeling particularly eloquent – except to you.

I shall write tomorrow night and tell you how I have done. I shall be thinking of you constantly as usual. Wherever you are or however you feel, you can always be sure that I am thinking of you.

All my love with kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kathleen

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 29 MCH 1940
addressed Lieut.R.Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. York.

Albert House, Colne.

30^th March

My dearest Ronnie,

I sit down, “weak and exhausted” to write a letter to my prescious fiancé. Actually I am not weak and exhausted although I have been dashing round doing Granny’s shopping for her: bedroom slippers, Eno’s salts, stockings and the like. For this good deed I have earned two shillings! I thought she must have mistaken the florin for a penny – but evidentally she knew what she was doing. She goes to Harrogate tomorrow, and Dad and Mum are taking her in the car.

I have still got a lump in my throat, but somehow I have a great deal of faith and hope which will help me along till your return. I am longing to hear from you and am hoping you will phone tonight. Three minutes hearing your voice means more to me than a week’s holiday (unless you were with me of course!)

Little Sunni has just decided to use my foot a pillow. Seven o’clock strikes, and three days ago when seven o’clock struck you were with me. Oh dear, I do love you, and I am just living for “the day”. I think we will be married on the 28^th of Something because we met on a 28^th, and to me it seems a very good lucky date even though you did go back on the 28^th this time.

I enjoyed the picture very much last night, but I kept wishing that you were there to keep my hand warm, and that kept me from concentrating on the flick. I went in to your house for a little after, and had a drink of milk. (Baby!)

Just two more days of nothing to do. I will be working 8 ½ hours a day which isn’t really bad, is it?

I had two poems sent back today, but under the rejection note the editor put “Send me some more.” So that sounds no so bad. If my beautiful short story comes back from “Lilliput” I shall weep salt tears. This reminds me I forgot to give you those blasted poems again. I’ll send them on. I would send them tonight, but I have to send Uncle Carswell’s birthday present off yet. It’s only a calendar, but it’s rather a snappy one with a rhyme about his pet hobby, fishing. I bought it in St Andrews in Summer, but it is a 1940 calendar.

It seems a long time since then beloved, so much has happened. Some day I shall embroider a cute little map of our bit of Fife and we’ll have it hung in the dining room or the hall.

…Pause to do parcel, and like an ass I have missed the parcel post. I was thinking it was 7.30. Maybe it will go through the letter box.

I have just discovered an error. You went back on the 27^th, not 28^th. I’m an ass.

Moué and Marj are charging round making arrangements and hunting out evening frocks to go to the Parker’s dance in the Tower Ballroom. Neil Hartley suddenly had a great desire to go this afternoon when Marj went in to the shop, and so they have gathered up some sort of a party. Been out to the highway and byways sort of thing. Of course old Huxam is going. What a creature he is. You should have seen him fingering the cherry cake today when he was cutting it. Needless to say, he took a mighty chunk. What a critical creature I am. We have very rudely christened him – alas, you will be disgusted – Nose Grub. His initials are K.G. which gave us the idea: Knose Grub. We are Very Very  Rude!

I was just saying to Moué, there’s that thing at every meal every day – someone we don’t care a dot for. And you whom I think the world about, have to be away. The way of life I suppose. But soon you will be mine for ever and ever and ever my darling.

James wrote to Ma today, and has a week’s leave from tomorrow. He is going to Aberdeen, but will call on his return. He asked for you again. He also asked about Sunni. He was very fond of him, and used my name “Pau” for him! I wish things were as they were. You and James back in your own places. This chap – ooch! I am glad I’m not going to this dance.

Darling it has gone a quarter to eight. I must away. Remember I am thinking of you all the time, and loving you more with every breath. I keep remembering little bits of the weekend. All my love dearest, Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 28 MCH 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

28^th March.

My darling Ronald,

I am missing you abominably, but I really needn’t tell you that, because you will know anyway. You are simply everything to me. So do take care of your dear self my prescious.

I have been down to have tea with your Mother this afternoon. She asked me just after you left yesterday. I think she saw the lost look in my eyes. It was a mouldy goodbye when I really wanted to take you in my arms and hug and hug you.

I am going to the flicks with your Ma tonight to see “Andy Hardy _” at the Majestic. I came home to write to you. I simply had to do that.

Your Mother has been telling me that your father was wounded in the last war, and you never told me (you never tell me anything!). I saw two photos of him looking proper nice!

I am starting at Hatfield’s on Monday – alas. Still I suppose I shall settle down O.K. and it will make the time fly. Oh how I want the time to fly. Then in Sept – emlere{?} the war will be over. Yes, it will. You see. Then I shall give up my job, you’ll get yours and we’ll live happily every after. What a blessing it is I still have my dreams to keep my pecker up.

At Hatfield’s I have two hours off for lunch: 11-1 or 11.30-1.30. It will just depend. The afternoon will seem very long I suppose. About five and a half hours solid work. Well, it will make me a fine strong, brave girl and that is what I want to be. I shall just say to myself all the time, “This is making me worthy of Ronnie. This is payment for the happiness I am going to have.” Then everything will be all right.

I cleaned the cycle today, and it sure needed it. It had been down in the coke cellar and was filthy. I did a few spins round the yard just to make sure I could still ride the thing. Last time I rode a bike my treasure, was at Kilconquhar with that dear boy Ronald Helme.

It has been a heavenly week-end – thanks to you. You have been dearer than ever, and my love grows steadily. Mum says she is fonder of you every time she sees you, and Dad says you are a real nice lad – and Kathleen says you are a darling, a prescious, a treasure, and Angel Boy. What a testimony, but you cannot apply for the position of husband with it, because you are already definitely and finally hooked.

Beloved, would you mind if I buy you a cross and chain. Perhaps you will think it peculiar and would feel soft wearing it, so just let me know. I would like you to have one because I know it would be better than any buddha.

Nurse Bentley has just arrived for the evening. I am a bit sorry I am to miss her. I didn’t know she was coming.

Your photos haven’t arrived yet. I am longing for them to come, then I can look at you first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

Darling, I have been so happy with you, and I am going to wait patiently till I can be happy with you for ever.

I’ll write tomorrow.

All my love dearest,

Kathleen

ALBERT HOUSE. COLNE. LANCS. TEL.NO.282

20^th March 1940

Belovedest ‘own, (nearly!),

How are you rolling along? Avec the barréll or just on your own? Kay may be telling you I had a Sing-song last night for the troops. About 100 “Pioneers” are stationed in this burg and yours truly felt she’d like to do something by way of giving the lads a change so staged a sing-song in the Exchange St School. I sent out invitations to the 7 billets. Only two let me know how many to expect and instead of 51 as expected – about 90 arrived! It was great to have so many. They sang and one played the mandolin while another accompanied (!) him on the spoons. Quite a scientific art I find “the spoons” to be! There were several Scotties – one an awfully nice wee chap who acted as orderly and M.C. of the talent. Another sang jolly well and he came from Motherwell which is very near to Bothwell the village in which I spent my childhood – d.y.k. Some of “the Mothers” helped with the refreshments and Mrs Ingram and her daughter Ethel and a Miss Cronshaw who played the accordion also helped very materially to make a success of the evening. I very nearly sang a wee song myself but my courage failed at the last minute. (The Rector came in!). Anyway I felt thoroughly happy that I had managed to get so many of the men to come. They are a “tough” lot but a great lot and I felt very fond of them. – Funny person I suppose I am! Anyway I am very fond of you so maybe I am a bit queer!!! Excuse this mad note please. I shall be very dignified in my next maybe. Lots of Love. M.J.S.E