Category: 1940

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 6PM 20 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne.

March 20^th

My dearest Ronnie,

I have just remembered I shall not be able to write to you later in the day as I am going out to Holly’s for tea, so rather late I have decided to scrawl a note to you now.

Beloved, I am sorry I didn’t write to you yesterday. It could have been done, but alas, it just wasn’t. Anyway, as I haven’t heard from you for a couple of days, I think I can be forgiven.

I am waiting with bated breath to hear whether you are coming home or not. I suppose you’ll phone tonight when I am out which will be very distressing.  Still, I may be home if you phone after ten. Anyway, who said you were going to phone!

I am writing this in the study, and have just finished the first chapter of an imaginary autobiography. Quite interesting – I hope. Anyway I am enjoying doing it. It is to be called “This Was Yesterday”, or something like that.

Blast, there goes the gong, and my hands are dirty. I’ll add a bit after dinner.

… Now my prescious, I have eaten and fed the dogs, and I am feeling like a nice little snooze but that’s out of the question.

Now let me see, what has happened since my last letter. Nothing much. I hadn’t anything done at the dentists’ yesterday but I’m to look in in another three months to let him look at two back teeth which may need filling then.

Mum organised a sing-song for the soldiers across at the church school last night, and it was a great success. She sent invitations to the various billets and gathered from the replies that about 50 would turn up – but 100 were there, and she had to ring up Kirks at the last minute and get some more food. They were given a pie and a cake each, and tea. It seems they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and as they are to be here a while yet, it is to be repeated.

Ma is now writing you a note. Dear me, how she loves the Army!

I don’t like writing in pencil. It’s a shame I was too lazy to go up to the Club and get my pen.

I am growing a bit shakey about Hatfield’s now. It is only a week or so before I start. Still, it will be good for me to work really hard, and the fresh air and regular hours should make me a nice strong girl all ready to make a really good wife. That is how I console myself.

I’m afraid it is going to rain this afternoon, and I shall get nice and wet walking up the fields. I want Mum to come up with me so as we can exercise the dog. Otherwise he will have to do without his walk, and he is full of energy. He made a hole in my stocking this morning with putting up his silly foot. Still, he is a very lovable creature and I am very fond of him.

I don’t think I told you that when we were in Manchester on our way to the Walker and Hall’s Moué and I looked at the photos in LaFayette, and whose photograph should be there but Kathleen Haighton. She is a queer looking girl isn’t she? There was also a photo of someone who was at school with us.

Marjory had a letter from James this morning. Sort of thanking her properly for the socks. Poor lad, he doesn’t seem to have much fun where he is. They are miles from anywhere, and he has had only three nights out since he went there. Deadly. I should think he will be glad to go abroad. He was asking for you; had you gone abroad, etc. etc.

The most important thing to me at the moment is – are you coming for Easter. I do sound impatient but lambkin, I am simply longing to see you again. What will I feel like when you have to be away for months. Oh dear it will be away. But I shall have to get through somehow, and it will be all the sweeter when we do get together for good. Oh for the day.

Prescious I must away to change and wash  my dirty muck.

Speaking of washing, if you do come home darling, have a bath before you come and wear your newer tunic. Not your battle dress please – even if you do look thinner in it. I like you as an officer (Snob!)

I hope you can read this. I must pip dearest.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses,
Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 18 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne.
18^th March.

My dearest Ronnie,

It was lovely to hear your dear voice last night, and I do hope you didn’t think I was too cold. I felt that I couldn’t say all that I wanted to under the circumstances. You know I am a little bashful. Not of you though.

I went home after we had phoned you after having been at your house since about eight.

Beloved, Daddy has just asked me to go and get him some books. Fancy at this hour. It’s twenty to seven and the place shuts at seven. What a life. No peace to write a long and loving epistle to my precious fiancé. Well I continue when I return, but this doesn’t seem much chance of a long letter.

… I have returned, and have been away short time as Marj kindly took me up in the car.

Although I didn’t start my letter with it, I am most thankful that the Finnish war is over. I would have gone nearly crazy if you had had to have gone (-what grammar!) – and at such short notice. Really I do feel that Providence is on our side – yours and mine my prescious. It would have been just ghastly: you in Finland. Oh I am so thankful you haven’t to go there now. I wish I did know where you were going though. Why can’t this vile war end soon?! When it does and you come back to me, I shall be happier than I have ever been before. That is the time I look forward to – when you really come to stay.

Your Mother should me some more photos of you as a boy last night, and you were very thin and lovely at sixteen. My dear boy, you were really sylph like. You were a comely lad, and I think our sons will be just like that.

Only 1/3 of the Officers coming home for Easter. I hardly dare hope that you will be amongst them. I am aching to hear. I am very jittery about it because it will soon be time for me to start at Hatfields. Dopray hard. I am going to see dear Mr Ross tomorrow at quarter to eleven. So think of me clinging to the chair in silent agony. I feel sure I shall have a filling or two to do.

You are a bad boy not washing your hair for so long. You are becoming positively dirty these days. If you come home I am going to washi it for you again as I have a Silvikryn (?) Shampoo I bought for myself really, but as my hair is already clean and beautiful I shall keep it for you. There is a special rinse with it too. I wonder if that will bring back your dear departed wave!

Do you see that all doctors under twenty eight have to register; so I guess we wont have the Dim Bull for very long. Can’t say I am crying over that. He really is a curio. Fancy you telling me to say “B__low you”, you brown eyed b-b-beauty! Speak of the devil indeed. I think he has a touch of B.O. too.

It must be supper time darling, and time I pottered to the post… By the way, I started writing something magnificent yesterday. Today I’m scared to look at it in case it isn’t after all. All my love dear boy, K’s c’s and c’s, Kay x

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7:15PM 17 MCH 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

17^th March.

My darling Ronnie,

Another scrawl from your charming fiancé who is loving you as much as ever. Unfortunately she is writing on an unsteady table, and her chair is too high. Also she is not very warm, and the fire is poor. Otherwise, she is very comfortable!?

We have been to Church this morning and The Macvick has given another of his inspiring sermons – hem! hem! He has also dolled out some more pamphlets – yet another pamphlet raid. The soldiers were in Church again today, and the Lieutenant is a queer old bird at close quarters. He suffers from corns judging from the way he walks.

We had a great day in Manchester yesterday, and the play was really excellent. In fact I would like to relapse into the old schoolgirl style and say it was marvellous, wonderful etc, but I had better not.

It was very well done – both in the production, acting, scenery – everything. There was only one scene all the way through the three acts, but it was a beautiful one: The hall at Manderley with a lovely staircase going up the right hand side, and the passage beyond. There were double doors – I should say there was a double door in the back centre and a most impressive hall place beyond. It really was a most realistic scene.

Owen Nares was of course as good looking as ever, and made an excellent Maxim. Celia Jonson was very good as the wife, and was just clumsy and gauche enough without looking too much of a freak with it all. We went to the stage door after for Marj’s and Moué’s benefits; but Owen had slipped out before we arrived. They managed to get Celia Jonson’s auto. I’m afraid I don’t like autograph hunting. I am too proud to make myself look inferior. Even as I stood at the stage door, I thought to myself “Why am I standing here with all these silly people. Why should I come to see a few actors and actresses going home when someday I may be more important than they are.” You see there is still a bit of me that insists that I am going to do something rather clever someday. I think it’s dead, then up it pops again to give me a dig in the back – this beastly ambition.

Moué and I went to Walker & Hall’s to buy the tankard, and chose a nice one (I think) very quickly. It is to have Dr Macauley’s initials put on it. We then went to Kendal where I Joan and Marj were. They had bumped into Hilda Patterson – Donald Ritty’s girl, and as she was all alone we had lunch together at Sissons. I like her, and find she has much more about her than Marjorie Tattersall Beatrice etc. Of course she isn’t really in their crowd… She was meeting her sister in the afternoon, and going to the Vic Wells Ballet at night.

We also met an “old Pembrosian” – my year, and had a talk with her. She was at “Rebecca”.

We got the ten to six bus home.

My uniform had arrived, so I donned it, and immediately became the envy of Joan and the sisters. Actually, I don’t think I look very smart in it. At least the breeches aren’t very chic but they’ll have to do. I wear a very posh armlet – green with a red crown on it. I’ll don the whole thing when you come home.

Are you coming home? I suppose you know about as much as I do. I am longing to know; and if you don’t come I’m afraid I shall be very disappointed. It seems that you haven’t written to your Mother for a bit prescious. Perhaps you are writing today. Or she may have received a letter yesterday.

Already I have been thinking what we will do when and if you come hoe for Easter but so far I have got no farther than the cuddling and caressing. How long is it since I saw you? It seems an apauling age.

Do come, do come. It will make such a difference to me. I just live to see you, and always I am thinking of the next time, the next time. If only we knew when this war is to be over we could make some plans. I mean real plans – not just dreams.

I am looking forward to a letter from you tomorrow because you’ll surely know your plans by then. Infact, you might, just might ‘phone tonight.

All my love dearest, Kathleen

P.S. A terrible letter full of errors, crossouts etc. please forgive it. The heart is willing but the brain is weak!

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 15 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut R. Helme, D.W.R. Church House, Norton, MALTON. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

15^th March.

My darling Ronald,

I have been feeling very lovable all day, so I hope that you will find this a nice lovable letter. I think it must be M/D in your letter that has put me in this mood. I took me a long time to think it out just as you thought it would. Truth to tell, it took me till about eleven o’clock! A very sweet sentiment my lamb.

I have taken my large sum of money from the bank so that when I have a bit more I can put it in the building society. It amounted to five pounds twelve shillings. What a sum. You see my beloved, you did a queer and unprofitable swap – me for W.B!! Of course, I am a much nicer girl.

Oh dear, I am feeling sick. I have eaten too many prawn sandwiches and cream cake! We’ve been eating the remains of a ladies tea party. Mrs Rankin, Miss Goasdale and Mrs Macauley have been in. In fact, I don’t know whether they’ve gone yet.

Now the wireless is on, so I shall probably be writing tripe again. A programme on France – our Alie etc, etc!

Beloved, I do hope you get leave at Easter. Easter, heavens, that is nearly here. If everything is ok I shall be seeing you soon. Aah, how wonderful. I am longing to see you, and it already seems a thousand years since I saw you.

Oh dear, I wish this wireless was off, because though it’s interesting, it prevents me from consentrating. And I did want to write you a nice letter tonight.

The play last night was very enjoyable I thought, and the acting was really good – better than usual. Elsie Robinson was excellent as Emily Brontë. Of course, it was a sad play, and they all died in lumps. Actually, only Emily collapses on the stage. I saw your Mother was there, and she didn’t look very happy, so I do hope she enjoyed it.

We are going to Manchester on the nine o’clock tomorrow. What an unearthly hour, but as the big shops shut at one, we can’t so well go any later. Dad has asked me to go to Walker & Hall’s to chose a silver tankard for Dr Macauley while Marj is in Kendals. So – . I hope my taste is all right. “Of course it is darling.” Thank you.

We’ve got five bob seats for the matinée. I wish you and I were going on our own dear. Till you are coming home soon – I hope. Oh how I hope.

My uniform hasn’t come yet. Isn’t it terrible. I am going to write to them tonight because it is a week late.

So Donald is now talking about marriage. Well, well, I thought that would happen. All these people. I’m afraid it makes me jealous. Wait till Geof. gets wed. That will put the tin lid on it! Never mind, when we get married, we will have a lovely wedding and plenty of lovely peaceful things to look forward to. Already I have reached the Stage of thinking of things I want for our house. I hope your taste will coincide blend with mine.

I hope no one gets this instead of you. I am grieved that you haven’t got that letter back yet. Would it be better if I wrote to your billet?

I didn’t have my face done at Mrs Morans the other day after all. I had my hair washed and set and cut, and she sure has cut a lot off. I feel quite naked now, but it doesn’t look too bad. My face is improving with home treatment.

This reminds me to ask you if you are looking after your hair and your teeth. You know I do worry about you. I neither want you to be bald nor toothless for a long long time yet, so bear that in mind next time you think of skipping your teeth! Prescious, your teeth are nice and you’ve got to keep them so. Also your hair. I bet you haven’t washed it for ages – so do so. I’ll send a shampoo. Geoff would say, “She’s wearing the trousers again.” On the contrary, I am definitely wearing the skirt, and wanting you to look after yourself because I am not with you to do so.

I am just thinking of your photo – the full face one. It really is lovely, and I am longing to have it in the bedroom. I’ve so glad we went to have it taken again. It was well worth it.

{pencil} My pen has run out, and the ink’s in the surgery. Confound.

I paid Podmore’s bill today – at last. I could pay my bit before but Mum couldn’t pay hers.

I don’t know quite how I shall pay for my day in Manchester tomorrow. I can’t use any of my five pounds because Dad expects me to keep that intact. Well, I suppose I’ll manage somehow.

Huxom is very annoying, I find. So do the others, so it can’t be just me. He has such silly ways somehow, and yet he tries to be clever. He tried to be clever with me yesterday at tea, but I afraid it met with no more than a cold stare! As I was feeling kind and good deedish on Tuesday night and offered to play draughts with him. He was very pleased and I felt rewarded for my trouble; but heck, he is one of these bally clever divils who quietly murmers “stupid” when you make a silly move, and supersiliously puts your man back for you. Ooh, I could have punched him. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll feel so gooddeedy with him again! The one person he does get on with in this house is the old girl. They pay cribbage together nearly every night. But they don’t seem to use any of the terms you and Geoff are always saying!

I think Huxom’s chief trouble is that he’s a Mummy’s boy. He is a twerp, and evidentially some of the patients call him The Black Diamond, Charlie Chaplin and Hitler. Poor Man!

Oh darling, this isn’t a lovely loving letter after all, but I assure you that it is written in a very loving mood, and that if you were here I would make you very happy. I am feeling cuddlesome and sweet tempered.

You should have see me smiling to myself when I found out what M/D meant. It was like the dawn!

Who would think that at this minute I am feeling sick and headachy through overeating? Yes I am a pig, but I do like prawn sandwiches and cream sponge.

For some reason I am becoming very quiet at meals. Retiring into myself or something. I just can’t be bothered talking much what with Granny and Hux. Dad said I was looking very aloof at lunch. That is just how I feel somehow. I just retire into my little world of you and me and find it much more pleasant there.

Do you know, I love you. I think you are just the dearest nicest fiancé, that you will make the kindest most loving husband, the sweetest and gentlest Daddy and the cutest old Grandad! That my Angel Boy , is what I think of you.

With these few words my treasure I will close, and hasten to the post, thinking as I go of all the kisses and cuddles and caresses that I am going to give you when I see you.

All my love dear heart,
Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 14 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R. Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne.

14^th March.

My dearest Ronnie,

I was tickled to bits to have your photos and nice letter. I think the full face photo is lovely and very animated. In fact my prescious, you look most squeezable. Your Mother has chosen that one too. Mum thinks it is very good and wants one too, and says she will pay for hers – and as an afterthought, she said – “Unless you would like to give it to me for my next birthday between you!” Anyway, she wants to get a frame to match mine, and have it in the drawing room with it. Very nice!

I have ordered four of that size – for your Ma, Granny, Mum and me, and two post card sizes of it for your Ma and me to put in leather cases. I hope that’s O.K.

Oh blast, there is such a nose in here I can’t write sense. Beloved pardon me. Molly and Irene are in, and I haven’t long to write.

I was very disappointed you couldn’t come today, but I have behaved very well. In fact, I believe I am becoming a philosopher. I do hope you can come at Easter. If you don’t get off, I shall come and lay Lawlor low. Haw, Haw! Do pray for leave dear, and with your prayers and my prayers, we should manage it.

Our tickets haven’t arrived yet for Manchester, but I hope they’ll come tomorrow. Nor has my uniform come – confound it!

We are going to Manchester early – probably the nine o’clock ‘bus; so you can think of me going my Angel Boy.

Oh dear, I feel like writing you a long loving letter, but I’m afraid it’s impossible. I promise a better effort tomorrow – and don’t let anyone walk off with it. Goodnight beloved, and simply all my love complete with kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kathleen

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 12 MCH 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R. Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

12th March

My dearest Ronnie,

I do hope my last letter did not annoy you or detress you or anything like that, because my treasure, I don’t want to annoy you or detress you or worry you. You are the last person on Earth I want to make unhappy my beloved. I hope I am saying all this to you and not to some scurvy knave who snaffles my loving letters from under your nose.

I do hope that letter turns up unopened. I don’t think there was anything terribly private in it. It certainly wasn’t one of my “days-to-come” letters, and probably the only conculusion that the reader would come to, would be that the writer was in love with Ronald Helme – and that’s not out of the ordinary.

My treasure do try Thursday. Oh dear, I feel all secretive, because I now feel someone else might get this. I feel like putting I.S. and such like!!

What a life, but to have you with me for a few hours again will completely change my outlook. Gee, how I love you. I can go to Keighley, Maybe your proofs will have arrived by then, and you will be able to bring them with you.

Tomorrow afternoon I am going to Mrs Moran’s to have a little bit cut off my hair as it is growing too long to be neat, and also to have face massage. Don’t frown. It’s not half as exotic as it sounds. It is very badly in need of this as the pores are clogged up with Winter grime and my own grease!

I took Prince out this afternoon, and it started to pour when I had only backed the rugger field, so I sheltered in the targe, and thought of the once or twice when I had sheltered there with you in days of yore. (That is supposed to be YORE though it is just the same to look at as the you! What writing!)

Poor wee Sunnie is becoming more and more the victim of Senile decay, but Mr Rankin says hi is not suffering much pain, and doesn’t think it necessary to put him down. His tummy (not Mr Rankin’s!) is filling with liquid from his kidneys and he is getting very fat there and thin in the ribs. I shall be very sad when he has to go because I am really very fond of him. He is so cuddlesome, and I have had him so long. Darling I’ll simply have to warn you that I want to have peke again. I know, I guarantee you would grown very fond of one if it was yours and mine. There is not another dog as cuddlesome. We could have another dog too? “What size of house do you think we are having?” “Well we could keep the other one outside.” “You and your dogs!” “Book, book, weep, weep.” (Pause) “All right, you can have as many dogs as you like as long as you’ll marry me.” Smiles, kisses, finis.

That, in case you are in the dark, was a dialogue!

I hope your pullover arrived safely today. It was packed in the greatest haste with the help of dear Mama. I had to crash down to the post, and just managed it.

Mum opened a Sale of Work for the Y.W.C.A. on Friday, and bought me to very nice towels with blue crochet work let in, so that makes it one silver salver or silver cup (easy to see which side the money is on) one tea set (best) and two towels. The list grows. I shall soon be able to add one table cloth; in fact two, as there are two in the making!

If I work at Hatfields for a year I am going to save at least sixty pounds. That sounds absurdly impossible – but you wait and see. Sixty pounds. That would buy the bedroom suite de luxe. But I happen to know that if we rave about walnut, Dad will present us with a really good suite of it. You had better study it.

Goodnight my treasure I’m going to see fairly soon.

All my love, Kay x

Blank Envelope.

Albert House, Colne.

11^th March

My beloved Ronald,

Here at last is your pullover, my prescious, and I do hope that it will fit you. The sleeves may be a bit too long, but I suppose you will be able to turn up the cuffs. The neck is not as nice as it should be, and I hope to goodness you can get your head into it. If it’s much bigger than mine you wont be able to. If not, please send it back, and I will see what I can do. Anyway, my lamb, I hope it does fit you as there is much labour and love in it. I should say love and labour, but work comes before pleasure – yes?

Now what news is there? Not much. The cheerful news: the old girl is going to Harrogate after Easter Whooppee. We can hardly conceal our pleasure, our joy – the old                ?!

Marj, Mou, Joan R. and I are going to Manchester on Saturday to see “Rebecca”, Owen Nares and Celia Jonson in the leads. It is on at the Opera House. This was my idea. It came to me suddenly this morning, and I asked Dad if Marj could have the day off, and he said yes – so all’s O.K. We are going earlier to shop, and then to the matinée.

These days I feel I have to do something. I am getting to the stage where I feel like starting at my toes and eating myself. I am feeling fed to the teeth that I can’t come to Malton on Thursday. Trust you to chose the one day I couldn’t coming having asked Molly to come to the play with us days ago. I was sure it would be Friday or Saturday I would come to Malton. Still, I can’t come, and that’s that; and you weren’t very keen anyway, so maybe it’s better. I shall spend my coppers at Manchester instead.

Now don’t take me wrong. Don’t write me back a stinging letter because I just can’t take it, and would be better of a sweet and adoring comforting note. The nicest letter I have received from you since the war, was one you wrote when I was at Askham Bryan. I would love a repeat, but I suppose you are too busy – with your blasted old Colonel etc.

I am definitely starting at Hatfield’s after Easter, so if you get any leave after that, I shall definitely give up the ghost. Oh confound it. What a world. See, I get madder and madder as I write. Can’t you see my writing going to blazes?!

I have a pain in my tummy. I must fly if I want to catch the post. All my love – and I am only half alive for want of you,
Kathleen

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

Albert House, Colne, Lancs

8th March

My dearest Ronnie,

Just a wee note to let you know how much I loved having you over my prescious. Oh dear, but it went too quickly. Never mind, it was an extra, and I just hope that you didn’t get into trouble. I am waiting eagerly to hear your dear voice on the ‘phone.

I have done next to nothing all day – just dreaming of you, and wanting you back for ever. I think we will arrange a terrible earthquake in Germany, and another in Russia just to make sure, and then the war will stop because there wont be anyone left to fight. Then beloved we’ll settle down and bill and coo for the rest of our lives.

My uniform didn’t come today, so I am expecting it tomorrow. I suppose when it comes it wont fit. I haven’t room to start another paragraph – but Moué is up this evening, and sends her love.

I am longing for your phone call darling.

All my love Angel Boy, Kathleen.

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

Letter from Moué:

Well after all that, thank you very much for the telegram. I am at the moment in bed again with a throat which feels like a cheese grater. Mother has just put some of that rubbing stuff on my chest and it feels like Hot Cinders to me. I laughed like anything when she put it on and I suffered from an awful pain after it.

Kay has got picking mania at the moment. She is picking out a lot of bags (hand-bags) in the hopes of economising in summer by recovering them.

Well, I’m sorry this is so short, but I am terribly sleepy and so I guess I’d better get some.

Cheeriho!

With love from Moué

Give my love to Geoff!

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

4^th March

My dearest Ronnie,

Just a wee letter to tell you that today as yesterday, and as tomorrow and for ever, I love you. Your letter this morning made me more than ever determined to come and see you. Even if you think it’s a waste of money and time, it is my money and my time, and to see you for an hour or two is worth a great deal to me.

There are a thousand reasons why I must come and see you. A few of them: 1) I love you 2) I want to see you 3) I want to cheer you up 4) I want to cheer myself up 5) I want to show off my new coat! 6) I want to make hay while the sun shines, and if you are going south so soon I shall have to make my hay very quickly 7) I love you 8) I love you 9) I love you. And so on.

So please be inoculated tomorrow if at all possible and then expect me to blow in to your billet about half past to quarter to eleven Wednesday. Tell all your friends to stay away. Anyway prescious phone me seven tomorrow – five past at the latest, as I am going to the Orchested concert with the family.

If you are in bed when I come to see you what will Miss Baily say? Anyway I shall seem very annoyed to find you in bed, which should make it more proper. Is she very prim? Don’t forget to put on nice clean pyjamas, and tidy your hair and brush your teeth; and put a sick little boy look on your face, and I shall love you more than ever.

Now don’t say I am mad coming across, because if that’s being mad, I love being mad. Dad will of course think me mad, but belovedest I must see you. I am starving for a look at you, and I musn’t starve before I have to.

Well Angel Boy, I have now to write to the Lancashire branch of the W.L.A. about uniform. I’ll expect you to phone sevenish then prescious.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kitty.

P.S. Moué has definitely got ‘flu: a temp and very bad throat today.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.15PM 3 MAR 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

3^rd March.

My darling Ronald,

When I heard that you were “browned off” and fed up last night, I made up my mind that today I would write you a really nice cheering letter. So I am going to try – though probably you have become your cheery self by this time.

Anyway, it is high time I told you once more how much you mean to me. Yet honey, it is so much easier to express my love for you in actions than in words. Still, I cannot see you, and that is that; and all this waiting is bound to make the grande finale a thousand times more wonderful when it comes – as it will most certainly.

I hate to hear you say it feels like going back to prison, and don’t I know the feeling. It’s foul to go back to discipline and bamboozling and bossing – specially when you’re grown up. Never mind my beloved, think of the day when I alone shall bamboozle and boss you, when your only prison will be my arms. And that will be a prison from which you will never escape, and a prison from which knowing you, you will never wish to escape.

I often dream of the past, but it is the dreams of the future that keep me from wearying too much when you are away. And every day that passes is a day nearer happiness, a day nearer you – and Donald, and Michael and Elizabeth. Your happiness matters more to me than anything else because in spirit, as someday in body, I am one with you.

Darling, I have discovered that twins do run in our connections after all, so there is just a chance that you may some day, be an even prouder father! Two sets in Mum’s generation. A brother and a sister of Granny Dunlop’s had twins, one boys and one girls. Unfortunately one of each died in infancy, but that is beside the point as midwifery was not what it should have been then.

And now prescious, if I haven’t quite cheered you with “someday dreams” let me complete the cure with “soon dreams”. I have a definite feeling that you will soon be cuddling me in my nice wooly coat, and kissing me ever so warmly. I’m sure you’re going to see me soon. Don’t forget dear if there is any chance of you getting a few hours off in York, I shall come over just like the wind.

Now it is really time that I came down from the clouds and told you a bit of common-place news, my Angel Boy, or you will be saying at some later date, “you never tell me anything.” Well, I tell you the things I consider most important, even if it means repeating myself. e.g. I love you. Now you must have heard and read that a thousand times, and yet you haven’t grown tired of it, have you. I wont put a question mark, because it is a pseudo question, sort of.

… It is twelve thirty five and I have just had some Horlicks and some Aero chocolate. I am sitting in the bedroom where Moué is in bed with a sore throat, and cough. I am sitting at a card table in front of the window, and the sun is pouring in upon me. Can’t you see me beloved, aglow with love for you?

I had a very pleasant day in Blackburn on Friday. Mum went to her meeting and came home on the four something train, but I waited till the ten o’clock which was a through train, and arrived in Colne about ten to eleven. Minnie had to work in the afternoon so her Mother and I went to the flicks and saw Charles Boyer and Irene Dunne in “There’s Always Tomorrow” which was very sad. Booh hooh, but it was beautifully acted. In the evening we just sat at home and talked. Minnie is very nearly engaged and her boyfriend, sweetheart, whatever you want to call him, is going to Borneo for the Shell Max people in a few weeks, so I can see she will be sailing out to him in a year or so. He is to be there some years. Anyway, he’ll get out of military service – so she should be quite glad. It’s an excellent job, and the firm will pay a bride’s passage across.

I hear from Minnie that you were much liked by Joyce Holker who doesn’t like Minnie’s fellow a bit!

Darling, you’re adorable and I want to hug you and love you and kiss you and caress you, and pet you. Ooh, Angel Boy.

Yesterday afternoon I had a sudden desire to ride, so I phoned Judy, and hopped over on the twenty to three bus, and had an hour ride. Lovely after such a long time, though rather tame in comparison with Gisburn.

Prince has just come up here – the crazy loon – I mean lune. He has been annoying Jenny, so I’ve to keep him up here. I shall have to take him out this afternoon.

Last night Mum, Moué, Marj and I went to the Nelson Palace to see “Beau Geste” – Gary Cooper, Robert Preston, and Ray Milland. A very good picture – full of action and a sad ending. Of course you probably know the story – all about the French Foreign Legion. What a tough crowd!

I am glad you have found your watch, and yet I am sorry, because I would like you to have mine – and it rather too the Guilt off the Gingerbread when I had already had a new strap put on, and sent it to you. Still, I hope you will wear it anyway, because there will then be a little bit of me on your wrist. Purely Sentiment, but what better reason for keeping it?

Moué says I have been writing this letter all morning. Confound the girl, she wants to talk to me. She now says “I S”, which is a very good idea. In Spirit dearest, but I would rather it was in truth. But soon, I hope.

It was nice to hear your voice last night even though it was a sad voice. Tonight I shall hear it again my darling, and hope that this time there will be no one in the room. Remember I am thinking of you all the time and this morning at nine o’clock communion I prayed for you a lot.

All my love dearest on Earth, Yours, Kay.