Category: 1940

Brown envelope, with luggage tag addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton, Yorks

Albert House, Colne,

1^st March.

Beloved,

This should be waiting for you at Malton. I would have sent it yesterday – only I had the face cleaned and a new strap. You are very welcome to it my prescious, and it will save you buying another. Also of course, the Sentimental value is terrific. Just think, it has ticked away on my wrist for more than two years. Thrilling. Everytime it ticks it will tell you how much I love you – see?

Your Mother has given me that one of yours with the funny face which will remind me of you. (Take that how you will). Well, she gave it to me, but in my usual brilliant manner, I have left it in your house!

It is now nearly half past eleven, and we are catching the twelve something or other (very explicit) to Blackburn, so I haven’t long to wash and teteviate (?) myself – unless of course the train’s at 11.59 which I’m sure it isn’t. Besides we have yet to eat.

Angel Boy, like the spoilt creature I am, I’m expecting – well, hoping you will ‘phone me tomorrow night. To hear your voice is next best thing to seeing you.

Prescious, I must away. Simply every bit of my love, yours Kay.

I love you. X

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 29 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., Robin Hood Hotel, Newark, Notts.

Albert House, Colne.

29th Feb

My dearest Ronnie,

I would like to say a word that you would very much like to hear me say – but I wont. I have been dashing around all day, and now it is supper time, and I did want to write you a nice long loving letter today. I’ve been to your house for tea, and since then I’ve had to fly up to the library to get Dad’s books. Hell, I’ve never had a minute. Damn, damn, damn, I don’t even have time to sit still and think of how much I love you. I am in a temper, I’m sweating. Curse.

Oh darling I’m so sorry about this. I would love you to phone me when you get back to Malton – Saturday night will you beloved? Nine or half past. In spite of scrap, I simply do adore you. All my love. Kay

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 28 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut R. Helme, D.W.R., Robin Hood Hotel, Newark, Notts

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

28^th Feb.

My darling Ronald,

It was lovely to hear your clear voice last night, and I am so glad I acted on the impulse. In these cases, it nearly always pays. Beloved, I adore you. But unfortunately I haven’t long to tell you so just now as it will soon be supper time.

Firstly, I am worrying about your idea of coming home on Saturday night, and beseech you to be careful, in fact I ask you not to come, because above all things, you must not get into trouble. It simply isn’t worth it, and I should feel miserable feeling you were doing the wrong thing. Besides from your letter this morning, I gather that Lawler is by no means asleep. In fact, he sounds somewhat fierce, and would be sure to find out about you. So you see….

I met your Mother in the town today, and she has asked me to tea tomorrow which I am looking forward to because your personality fills the house my Angel Boy.

We had a very good weekend in Glasgow I should say, and the play on Monday was super – special as my friend Angela would say. It was very clever, and it fairly refreshed my mouldy old brain!

On Friday Mum and I are going to Blackburn – she to an M.U. council meeting and me to see my school friend Minnie Haha. We arrive there at 1.30, and I don’t know how long we’ll stay.

Beloved I would have loved to have come and seen you in York on Saturday, but that’s quite impossible. How I love you. I do hope you’ll think me very nice in my new coat. I am simply aching to see you again. A real ache in my heart.

I have been very busy today, believe it or not. I have been washing clothes, and the bathroom curtains which are now ironed and back in the bathroom. I went down to Mrs Goth’s this afternoon and then for a long walk with the dog.

There goes half past seven, and here I am on a new page. Well, I’ll just have to fill it with great speed, and hope that supper’s late – which is probably will be as it’s Jenny’s night in.

Your letter today was very interesting – all about Bateman and Fell etc. I wish he would make you a Captain. Don’t forget to work out the number of weeks you’ve been in the Army! In fact, you’d better work out the days and be really smart. Don’t forget the time you were at Sandhurst.

Here is Pa. Nearly supper I suppose I’ll have to go to the post.

James was over on Friday and Saturday we hear – or did I tell you. Yes, of course I did. You will be saying it is funny how its always James I repeat myself over.

Darling this is a vile scrap, but really I haven’t sat down more than ten minutes all day or I should have written earlier. I’ll write more tomorrow; and till then my dearest boy I shall be thinking of you all the time. I love you.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kay x

Postmarked GLASGOW 5.15PM 25 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Robin Hood Hotel, Newark. Notts.

43, Sherbrook Av, Maxwell Park, Glasgow, S.1.

Saturday.

My dearest Ronnie,

It was lovely to hear from you this morning, and you are a pet. I don’t know whether to post this today or not; but it would mean you would be sure to get it on Monday. I’ll see – .

I am still dwelling on last week which was heavenly, and I wish it was still to come. All the good things go so quickly, and the more I see of you the more I want to see of you. I’ll never get tired of you honey – never, never, never. I wish I had more chance of proving it to you.

I’m glad you are comfortable at the Robin Hood, and really I’m quite glad you are having plenty of hard work. Well, I think all the fresh air and exercise will do you a world of good. Keep in with the Major, because we want a CA very soon!

This morning Mummy and I went into the town and did a bit of shopping. Well, it was chiefly shop gazing! We went to the jewellers to have various things mended – Dad’s watch chain, Mum’s pearls etc; and to look at some gold signet rings for Moué. Mum is giving her one for her birthday on Tuesday. We are taking some on approbation.

Tonight T’Al and I are going to the flicks to see the Crazy Gang in something or other. I have never seen them, but hear they are good. On Monday night T’Eth and I may go to see the latest Bernard Shaw play: “King Charles’ Golden Days” or words to that effect! Anyway, it hasn’t been to London yet.

Granny is very very weak and has changed ever since the last time I saw her when she was bad enough. She isn’t down stairs at all now, and speaks very slowly and quietly. She thinks my ring is beautiful, and has heard that you are a very nice man. The poor old soul was thinking you would think her terrible not writing to you, but she is past that now. I assured her that you wouldn’t think anything of the sort. She is very pathetic, and makes you wonder how she’s allowed to live because she’s only half alive really. When I think of Granny Eadie and how spry and cheeky she is, it makes me ill. She has kept strong through letting others serve her all her life!

I have only one sleeve of your pullover to do now, but I have been fool enough to forget the rest of the wool. Anyway, I don’t think I’d have much time for knitting here. I’ll sew up the rest of it. I have started reading a romantic tale about Rome by F. Marion Crawford this afternoon.

Yes dear, you wrote to T’Eth – “a very nice letter”, and she has kept it!

I feel a long way from you here, but in Spirit my love I am very very near you. In fact I am in the Robin Hood Hotel, and there is no saying where I get to there. Being with you is just bliss, and I don’t know how I manage to exist without you. There seems to be a big hole inside of me when I’m not with you. Hurry up and make me feel complete again.

Oh dear, I saw some lovely furniture in Glasgow today, and some beautiful brass things. I have some beautiful ideas, and I’m just longing to get on with the carrying out of them. How I love you, and how homey I have become. Please be homey too.

What writing! My thoughts are making my pen trip up all over the paper, and this definitely isn’t educated writing.

Beloved if you were here, I would squeeze and squeeze you, and tell you in actions what I can’t really tell you in writing. Oh how I want you all to myself. All the time whatever I am doing, wherever I am, I am thinking how much you love me and how much I love you, and what a sin it is that we have to be separated.

This is a terrible letter I’m afraid. Very bitty and badly written, but my heart is in it just the same.

All my love darling,

Kathleen

P.S. We go home tia(*) something on Tuesday morning.

Postmarked GLASGOW 6.30AM 24 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Robin Hood Hotel, Newark, Notts.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

23^rd Feb.

My dearest Ronnie,

I have arrived safely, and I see I have written my own address, but I wont bother changing it. Beloved, I have only time for a short note – in fact I think I have missed the post already. T’Al tells me that I may be able to catch a post of some sort, and this should get you some time tomorrow.

The journey here wasn’t at all bad, and we arrived at the house about half past four. We expected to get to the station about five. I think I’m quite glad I’ve come – although I feel a long way from you my prescious. Oh dear, I wish I were with you now. Still, perhaps it wont be long.

I do want to know what you are to be doing in the near future. I think I shall definitely go to Hatfield’s as it sounds an unusually decent job. I don’t think it will be very tiring at all. And just think how I shall be able to save up for the Happy Day.

Talking of the Happy Day, I bought a Yorkshire Post at Carlisle today and sure enough there was a photo of John Horsfalls wedding, and a wee bit about it. You have probably seen it. She certainly looks hard and managing in the photo, and I don’t like the way he has his arm through hers. It looks wrong. So he has given her a diamond and sapphire brooch. Whoo!

My ring sparkles up at me and says “I love you Kathleen” in your voice. Oh how I love you. And now I want to cry because you are so far away from me. There is no one I love so much as you. Well how daft, as if you didn’t know that. Confound this war which keeps you from me.

We had a lovely week, didn’t we? I wish it was still to come. Now I am feeling tearful, and I should be old enough to know better. But I will never be too old to feel like crying when you are away from me; but you will never be away from me for long once the war’s over. Good bye darling. All my love, Kay.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 13 FEB 1940 and MALTON YORKSHIRE 10AM 16 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R.Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks and readdressed 34 Albert Road, Colne, Lancs

Albert House, Colne,

13^th Feb.

My darling Ronald,

A mere scrape of the pen just to show you that I still adore you – even if you don’t adore me. Which of course, is complete bunk because I know you do.

I haven’t had the expected letter today, and am a trifle worried, and all of a gogg to have your news. Anyway, it’s sure to arrive tomorrow.

I have still a good deal to do before this dance. I haven’t ironed my frock yet, and it is now quarter past seven. Still, I don’t suppose we’ll be going till about nine. Well, I can’t say I’m very thrilled. Still, one must do one’s duty.

Katie has arrived back today – looking as miserable as sin, so she will have it all to go through again.

Dr Huxom has arrived and Marj tells me he has come in a very delapidated Baby Austin of ancient vintage! He has to get out and turn to start it.

I am wearing my pale blue frock tonight, which I don’t suppose you will remember. I have altered it slightly and it is now planer than ever. I should look pure and sweet. I wish you were here to revel in my charm; but would you revel in it? Still, there wont be a bar. And now I’m sure that you would because with me, if it wasn’t for the fact that you are never really cross with me. Darling I love you, and miss you so very very much.

Beloved do pardon this mouldy note. I must away.

All my love,

Yours aye,

Kay.

P.S. This is a poor scrap.

I love you

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

Albert House, Colne.

12^th Feb.

My darling Ronnie,

I had intended to write this in the Club but there was an ironing board resting on the back of my chair, a clothes-horse in front of the fire, and a general atmosphere of tenement about the place, so I have removed myself to the dining room where it is beautifully quiet.

It was a lovely surprise your phoning again last night, and you look after me so well that I am the envy of the household. May you for ever spoil me darling, for you are quite the nicest fiancé which means that you will certainly be the nicest husband.

I am longing to hear from you tomorrow – all this news you spoke of. I’m glad it’s not to be bad news. In fact, it sounds almost as if it might be good news. I shall leap out of bed tomorrow (which will be very unusual) so that I can read your letter soon.

I am feeling quite light hearted today. There must be something in the air. It can’t just be love, because love is always in the air where I am concerned. I should be feeling peeved because Granny has been extremely irritating all day, and to me she grows worse. I find it very difficult to keep a civil tongue, and contradict just for the sake of being on the opposite side from her! When I contradict you darling, it’s just ‘cause I think it’s good for you.

Pa has just popped his head in. I knew he would want to see why the light was on when I heard his step. Some folks never miss a thing.

Dr Huxom has not come today, as he wasn’t able to get a car fixed up till tomorrow. He arrives tomorrow in a second hand baby Austin.  To enlarge upon my previous description, he seems a nice fellow, but is rather queer looking. He is so very dark. His hair is unruley and he has a moustache which I feel he would look better without, as it is very black and obvious. Not like these cute light brown moustaches that some people have. Bless you,  treasure. To return, His father is an engineer in the Navy, and his two brothers have both been in the Army for about ten years one is at Aldershot just now, and the other somewhere in Wales. He has had no previous experience – so I expect he will take a bit of breaking. I feel that I should now add – but he is house-trained!! I trust he wont be trained in the use of the surgery sink!

I spent this morning tidying out a cupboard in the bedroom, which for the last week or two has been so bad that every time I opened the door, there was an avalanche. I have chucked a lot of rubbish out – and feel the better of it.

Lamb chop, I am very very pleased you asked Horner to take your photo privately. You have pleased me no end, and I am just longing to see it. Already I am planning where I shall have it – and the one of all the officers. I can visualize them in the bedroom now. Then I shall kiss you goodnight every night. Oh I love you, and I wish I were married to you. I keep thinking of my bottom drawer – do you mind? I know you will get through the war Safely Somehow I just know now.

Marj was speaking to Mrs Ogden the other day, and she wants me to ring her up and arrange about Marj and me having tea with her. She is very bored. She is keen to see my ring, and said to Marj “Oh she is thrilled about it, isn’t she.” I’d be a funny creature if I weren’t wouldn’t I Angel Boy? You should have heard me saying “My fiancé” to Dr Huxom. Of course, I didn’t overdo it. Just mentioned you once or twice in the general conversation!

I had Prince out in the afternoon, and it was very cold, and snowing a bit. The snow was most useful when you were at home, but I am really fed up with it now. It makes it very difficult to go for a decent walk.

Another notice for a Sanction Show at Skipton has come today – for the 24^th, I think it is. I may enter Prince for one or two again, as it is experience. He is looking much better again, and must have put on a good deal of weight lately. It must be his breakfast of boiled onion, boiled milk and hound meal that’s doing it. He loves it. It should help his coat too. Not that there’s much need for that, as he has a good coat.

I’m afraid I shall have to go to the three and sixpenny dance in aid of the Finns tomorrow night – though I don’t want to one bit. I’m supposed to be helping in the Supper room part of the time, so I can always come home after that if I’m bored. I was thinking it was on Friday like a fool. We haven’t been able to get up a party so I shall be a wall flower. Very funny!

We have started a little war time economy today: having a smaller tea at five, and I am feeling very ready for my supper, and it must be a fair way off half past seven.

Gosh, I seem to have started another page. Well, well, I must fill it now. There goes quarter to seven.

Mummy is not so well, but will not go bed. She has a cough and sore throat, and is well covered with cotton wool and scarfs… Who is that at the door? Mrs Goth for Moué.

I am going to have my monastic coat made into a fitting coat for this Summer. I don’t think I shall get any new clothes this Summer. “A good thing,” says you. Maybe so.

By the way, I have found the negative of that photo I tore through at Kilconquhar, and I think I’ll have the top half printed and enlarged.

Well darling, it looks as if I shall have to go to the post. People keep blowing in here, and blowing out – blast ‘em. A peaceful house this!

Beloved I love you, and may it not be long before I see you. Thank you again for your lovely phone calls, and all the nice things you do and say and think.

All my love,

Kathleen x

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.15PM 11 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

10^th Feb.

My darling Ronald,

It was lovely to hear your dear voice last night, and for nine whole minutes. I am really very bad insisting on the last three, and promise that if you pay for it, I shall pay half! Anyway, it was really heavenly.

How I wish you were here. How I miss you. If you were with me always I’d be happy all my life. Fancy just one person making all that difference – and that one person you my dear boy.

There is a play on the wireless about Charles and John Wesley, but blow it, I want to write a really nice letter to you. I love you so much. Oh dear, oh dear, I wish I could have come to Malton this weekend. I would love to have seen you. It will be ages before I do see you. I wish I had some idea when it would be; and yet, if it is to be the last leave before you go abroad, it had better not come too soon.

I do hope that that rumour was wrong. What a life, and I love you so much. I am for ever thinking of the days I want so much to come when we are together always. I could sit back and wait so patiently if I knew that this day would be soon. It is so easy for me to imagine myself in your house, spending your money (?) and having your children. Darling it is all I want – simply all I want; but I do want it to be soon. Just thinking of it gives me a funny jumpy feeling round my heart.

I went to Church by myself this morning. At least, Moué went, but she had to sit by the organ with Mr Slater. Bless me if MacVicar didn’t pray for all the men on service from the parish – by name. Yours was second on the list after Smith Smith, and I felt myself going terrible red. Fortunately my hands were over my face, and I had plenty of time to cool down before we stood up. Of course, I was very proud of you actually, and I thought everyone would be thinking of me at the mention of your name. It is so much nicer now that everyone knows we belong isn’t it?

MacVicar’s sermon was quite good – though I do feel that he preaches rather for affect. He fairly shouted out that a Chaplain at the front had written saying that Christmas was celebrated chiefly by drinking, and that a doctor had written to a doctor in this country telling him that already the hospitals were chock ablock full of men with venereal disease. How he shouted that out. When I told Mum, she was very scathing, and said he liked saying things like that in the pulpit. I must say I do think as she does, that it is all for affect.

It is nearly time I went down to help with the tea.

Katie is away this weekend to see her fiancé and her Ma. She comes back on Tuesday. She went away full of beans, but I suppose she will come back fed to the teeth! Well, well.

Your pullover is growing, and I am trying to have it done as soon as poss. Then I am going to have a rest from knitting, and will start my appliqué picture which some day you will see hanging above or opposite our bed! I have done the back and a sleeve of the pullover, and have started the front. It certainly is big. It’s like knitting a bed cover my Angel Boy.

Moué has just finished drawing out my picture, and it is going to be lovely. Well, it should be anyway. Ooh, I can just see it hanging on the wall.

Blast, I am missing Jenny to take this to the post. I shall now have to take it myself. Still, you are well worth it, my pet.

We went to see “This Man in Paris” as I said, last night, and we all enjoyed it very much. I think Alistair Simm is wizard.

I must go to see “Goodbye Mr Chips” at the Hipp. this week.

The news is now on. I think John Buchan will die. He has had a relapse today.

The other two have gone to help with tea – so it looks as if I shall have to do extra after tea. I really must go to the post now darling. This letter isn’t very long I’m afraid, but I’ll write again tomorrow.

Goodnight my prescious.

All my love,

Kathleen.

P.S. Dr Huxam is coming – on Tuesday. He is quite a nice lad – very dark and foreign looking with glasses.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 8 FEB 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., King’s Arms Hotel, Barnard Castle. Durham.

Albert House, Colne.

Thursday.

Dearest Ronald,

You said at the beginning of the week that I had better not write after Wednesday, but as the post seems to have improved, I am risking another one.

I have been down to your Ma’s for tea and have enjoyed it. In fact, I really stayed too long to be polite. She let me see the letter you wrote to your Father, and it made me chuckle. The first paragraph is so superior. Never mind beloved, I adore you.

Your Mother has given me a beautiful leather pyjama case made of fawn leather, which I shall keep for my B.D. Though of course it will be nighties. It is really lovely. I have also got your record. Thank you heaps for it darling. It is a beautiful version of “Nineteenth Century Drawingroom.” Fofely! (*) Your other record is not bad. In fact, you will think it very good.

If you go to India I shall pass out. Five Years. It doesn’t stand talking about. I shall certainly come out and marry if that’s the case. Anyway I suppose it will be France. Oh hell!

I called at Hatfield’s today but Mr Hatfield was out. I spoke to a very nice chap – chief cowman presumably – a patient of Dad’s. They have 40 cows.

So sorry I forgot to say in yesterday’s letter (you never tell me anything) a young doctor, just through, has come down from Edinburgh today for an interview. I haven’t seen him yet, as I haven’t been in long, and wanted to write to you first. I am in the study. He is in the Club with the Sisters.

My story progresses. I have actually finished Chapter I.

Oh wretched woman! I forgot to start by thanking you very much for phoning me, and I was terribly disappointed to have been out. Just my luck. If only I’d known. I hate, simply hate missing your long distance calls. It’s just vile. Thank you so much. What a waste of money for you.

The flick last night was not what one would call first rate, but I enjoyed it for I was in the mood some how. But I do wish I’d been in to hear you. I feel done out of something very important. I felt though, that if I had stayed in I would have yelled through pure restlessness and boredom. Funny for me to feel I’ve nothing to do. It’s the first time in my life I’ve felt like this. I just feel I can’t live without you.

I wish it was March, and yet I don’t. In fact as in everything else, I don’t know what I want. There is only one thing I know for certain I really do want – and that’s to be married to you. And I do mean that.

Well dearest, this is a terrible letter, but I shall have to go and help Marj to entertain as Moué has now gone out with Irene.

How I long to see you, may your next letter be a long loving, longing, luscious letter.

All my love my darling big sausage, yours ever,

Kay x

Postmark mostly illegible ARNARD … FB 40
addressed to Miss K.M.Eadie, Albert House, Colne, Lancashire

King’s Head Hotel,
Barnard Castle.

Wednesday.

My dearest Kay,

I am managing to write to you in the luncheon interval and I haven’t very much time. Yes Barnard Castle is in Durham but only just. The rive at the foot of the main street about 200 yards from here is the boundary between Yorkshire and Durham for some distance. It is the River Tees.

The course progresses well and the food is excellent. Feeding like fighting cocks. I went to bed last night at nine o’clock and think I will do the same tonight. Tomorrow night I’ll go to the pictures and Friday bed early again. Your letters don’t take long to get here I had your yesterdays letter here this morning though the previous days arrived at tea time.

It may be that the leave in March may not be embarkation leave and we may get another 5 days later on. But all this is problematical and it may be we shall only get one lot. We’ll just have to wait and see. Anyway February will soon fly away and then we’ll have March.

Somehow I keep thinking today is Thursday I don’t know why. Let me know what Mr Rankin thinks about a Dairy job. There are only 3 Grade A places about. Aldersons at Barlick (and Alderson is a morally depraved man with thousands of children about the district) Pickles and Hatfields. I should think that both these places are OK. You suit yourself honey. If we go out to India it will be for 5 years at least or the duration of the war if it is more than 5 years. That’s a long time.

Now was there anything else to mention from your letter. No I don’t think so. I’ll have to think fast for it is nearly lecture time and I was late this morning because I stopped in the Midland Bank (whence I had gone to cash a cheque) talking to the manager about his war experiences.

I really must fly sweetheart. Maybe I’ll ring you tonight hoping that I can hear you. No I wont because the telephone is in a very open space – almost in the bar so it will be very awkward. Don’t be cross honey.

All my love,

Ronnie