Category: 1940

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

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

18th January.

Darling,

I have just come back from having tea with your Mother and Mrs Hay. Your father was in too for a little. She asked me down when I phoned her yesterday evening. It has been a very pleasant afternoon, and I was able to tell them something they didn’t know: Mary’s engagement. Your Mother looked quite stunned.

Yes, my treasure, it has been snowing here, but it hasn’t snowed today. The streets are very mushy, and it is still cold and miserable. I don’t think it’s quite as cold as it was yesterday.

Mum has begged me to purchase some more note paper for my letters to you as I am steaming through this stuff – which will never do. So I shall be paying a visit to Woolworth’s tomorrow.

I’m very sorry your helmet is a flop, but actually I wasn’t at all sure of it. Don’t bother bringing it home, but couldn’t you give it to one of the men who is short of comforts and not too particular. I have now got a really good helmet-on-two-needle pattern and some Lotum wool (the same as the gloves) and so my dear boy, I shall make you a really good helmet in a very short time. I shall send your mittens and hankies on tomorrow. The hankies have to be washed yet.

I understand your explanations about C.Coy and Malcom Bateman etc. and it wasn’t really involved at all. I think it would be a good idea to be injected before you come home – although I would not like you to be sick at home. And I wouldn’t like you to think you were ill! You know your usual little way dear?

The dinner went off quite well last night, and Mrs Sarn isn’t really at all bad when you get to know her. She has definitely personality.

Mum has been to Mrs Alexanders for tea today and Mrs Robinson(the M.O.H’s wife) actually said how much she admired my chin! Very funny.

Bill is coming on the morrow, and Marj is getting rather excited. Honey, a fortnight today I shall be excited. Whooppee. No, it isn’t really so far off now, and I am longing for it. Ooh, you kissable big lump.

James departed this morning in his uniform looking rather cute. It will be a very manless house when John has gone back. They are thinking of going back to London on Sunday – so they aren’t having so long.

Honey, I must finish beloved darling boy because the post is about to go.

I shall write more tomorrow – and please remember that I love you.

All the love I have, Kathleen x

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 17 JAN 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks.

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

Wednesday.

My dearest Ronnie,

Alas, I have a feeling that this is not going to be a very long letter either. I hoped for a peaceful afternoon in which to write, but Gerdy called and stayed till nearly tea time.

That sounds as if we shoved her out just before a meal, but she had to go and meet her Pa. she is coming to tea next Tuesday. She was asking for you, and thinks the ring is lovely.

I am very disappointed that you can’t come home for the 26^th, but I expect another week wont make so much difference. It’s lousy all the same, and I miss you so much and the days go slowly. It was sweet of you to phone and I was very glad to be in for it – even though you did hope I’d be out so as I could be disappointed – you sausage!

This weather is driving me pots, and it is far far too cold to be comfortable. I think I shall just go to bed till your leave.

Tonight I have the beginnings of a pain, and the Haighton contingent is coming to supper – sorry, to dinner. They are coming at half past seven. It is now quarter to six, and the drawing room isn’t even dusted yet. I am sitting there now, and as the fire has not been on long, it is viley cold.

I’m sure I had some bits of news for you but I seem to have forgotten them.

James is still on his 48 hours leave. I only wish that your 48 hours leaves were as long! He is going back tomorrow though. They wrote to him yesterday, so he just has to go now. We have seen very little of him all week, and I don’t think he will be in tonight. Not that I can blame him in the least!

Oh yes – news. I had a letter from the Land Army Sec this morning asking me if I would be able to take a job at Thirsk at a dairy farm. The person had to be able to drive a car – so that has saved my bacon, and I must write back tonight saying I am very sorry I don’t drive!! Gosh, I got a shock when the letter arrived I can tell you.

I should also answer a letter of best wishes from a second cousin, but I don’t see how I am going to have time tonight. I am freezing. I think I’ll wrap myself in cotton wool, eat a large meal, and hibernate – till the 2^nd of Feb. Then you could come and waken me up. Wouldn’t that be heavenly? Oh dear, I do love you, and could weep over it. It seems so wicked that we have to be separated. And there are Sam and Elizabeth – the wretches!

My nose is like a blog of ice, and I’m afraid I am waxing into a miserable mood. I just feel like going to bed early, and that, confound, is entirely out of the question. Lach a day, what a life!

I have nearly finished reading Warwick Deeping’s “Shabby Summer” and have enjoyed it very much as it is nice and peaceful and sentimental. There is nothing like reading something sentimental when your sweetheart’s

Oh dear. I am driving myself to tears.

I’m a very bad girl. I haven’t phoned your mother yet. I shall do so as soon as I’ve finished writing to you. I’m afraid you will think me very bad – not doing a little thing like that.

I feel so lonely – so lonely in a crowd, and I shall feel it more when Bill comes on Friday.

Dicky is having a party on Sunday and asking ever so many folks. I do wish I could get out of going but I don’t see how I can.

Moué heard from Reg yesterday, and they have been showing off German planes – or should I say one plane – from the Thames Estuary. Actually, it was out of their range, and a fighter went out.

I hope some one will be kind enough to take this to the post for me but am not very hopeful about it, as it is a cold slushy night. I hate the idea of going out in it. I haven’t been out at all today. John and Craster took Prince this afternoon.

Ooh, I never told you that Michael is coming tonight – if he can get off. I would hate you to think I was holding anything from you.

I feel this letter is very much lacking in the things I really like saying to you my darling, but if you read between the lines you will find it covered completely with endearments and loving sentences. I wish I could express more clearly just how much you mean to me, but it seems impossible either on paper or by word. But I do love you, and however long you are away, it will never be any easier for me to be without you.

Although my body is cold my heart is warm. Night and day, in spirit, I feel you beside me, and all I can do is to wait as patiently as possible until you are really there beside me – all real, and warm and breathing – for ever.

Daily my love, and trust in you grows stronger – so that when you come home on Feb 2^nd my dearest, I shall be dearer and nicer to you than ever before.

All my love, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 16 JAN 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

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

Tuesday.

My darling Ronald,

I’m afraid this must needs be as short as yours to me this morning as there has been no ……. Time today. Mum is running a Mother’s party tonight, and dear little Kay has been trotting round helping her. After having spent all afternoon up in the Parish room I find that I have to wash up the supper dishes with Moué and then stay in and keep house as the maids have now gone up to help. Of course, there is the old girl to deal with too. Marj is at a party, Dad and John and Daphne have gone to the flicks.

Curse and confound. Inspite of all this muckin’ and messin’ I still adore you my dearest boy.

I marked your hankies today and find that they have to be washed again before the ink is really indelible – 48 hours after marking.

Your note was sweet and you are a darling.

Simply all my love,

Yours aye, Kay.

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

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

15th January.

My dearest Sausage,

Many many thanks for your phone call this morning – and of course, for the one I missed yesterday afternoon. You are, as I have said before, the dearest and most thoughtful fiancé.

I am sorry if I sounded dozy this morning, but I had just wakened up, and it takes me at least ten minutes to waken properly.  When Mum said she thought it was you, I started to worry and wonder whether you had been called away suddenly or something equally grim. Was I relieved?! Honey, you are Sweet, and your voice sounded as nice as ever.

I am glad your cold is not so bad now, and I do do beseech you to blow your nose and not to sniff, as this is very bad for you, and may cause sinus trouble. Get paper hankies and blow.

Talking of blowing I went with John to Mr Fould’s this morning and bought a dozen white hankies for you. I got them at half price as they are slightly flawed, but they are quite nice. I’ve washed, and am going to mark them. Shall I send them on or wait till you come home? It’s all the same to me. Shall I send your mittens on?

Marjory is calling your Mother very clever. She went in the other day to buy a frock but your Mother had nothing suitable but said she’d look for something in Manchester today. She brought just one back, and it is just what Marj. wanted.

Pardon pencil, but the ink is in the surgery… John and Daphne are playing ping pong, so once more, I am writing on my knee, and the balls are blipping over me every now and again.

My cheeks are burning at the minute, and I think they must be getting chapped with being out in the cold wind. I took Prince out as usual this afternoon and walked on the canal bank. The side on the tow path is frozen and the other side is not which looks rather queer.

The frost is thawing now. The ice on the reservoir was lovely yesterday, and there were hundreds of people skating and sliding there in the afternoon. Moué and Marj were skating, and I walked down with them. I watched for a bit, and then Dad and Granny arrived in the car. I went with them up to the White Moor reservoir and we spoke to the game keeper – George Carr Rushworth, and Prince played with their two Retrievers. The gamekeeper says he will take Prince in the spring when the young grouse are ready – whatever that means!

Did I tell you Prince is on a tonic now? It has calcium and various vitamins in it. Mr Rankin says he must have lost two or three pounds, but I don’t think he is looking too bad. He is getting milk twice a day which should do him good. He sends his love, and says he hopes you will soon be home as his mistress is missing you very much.

Poor Katie is very upset today as her boy has gone up to Cumberland today. He has joined the Border Regiment – stationed in Carlisle. Poor girl has been on the verge of tears all day. I can sympathise, but she will get used to it to an extent. It’s surprising what we can put up with when we have to. I amaze myself.

The air raid sirens went off this morning as John and I were coming back from Fould’s mill, but no one bothered, and they didn’t last for long.

I am longing to know definitely which weekend you will be home. I would be heavenly to see you this weekend – and yet, when it is over, it would e lovely to feel you were still to come home. Besides I would like very much to go with you to the Rotary dance. Do you now, I have never been to the Imperial. Angel Boy, when ever you come home it will be wonderful, and I am living to see you again. Your ring still sparkles most beautifuly – a symbol of your great love for me – a constant reminder of your dearness to me, beloved boy.

Oh dear, I want a date at the thought of seeing you again – I shall never forget waiting and waiting and longing to see you at Arkham Bryan,  and how I kept imagining you coming up the drive in Millin’s wee green car. And then when you really did come up the drive and my wishes had come true. I felt too wonderfully happy. Oh I shall never forget the feeling.

Sweetheart I do love you, and long to feel your nice moustache tickling my neck.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kay. X

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.15PM 14 JAN 1940
Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton, Yorks.

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

Saturday.

My dearest Ronnie,

You will now be on your way back north again I expect, and I feel very glad, because although I can’t see you I do feel nearer you.

My prescious boy, it felt very queer to be at a dance without you. How I missed you my treasure. I kept wanting to see you walking across the floor with one toe turned in, in the old familiar way. I can just see you so clearly walking across the floor in your tails. I’m repeating myself but I adore you so much.

Anyway, you wanted a detailed account of the dance. Now let me see. The party consisted of the three beautiful Miss Eadies, Dr and Mrs Robertson, Mr and Mrs Thomas, (friends of Dicky’s – school teacher and wife), Mac and Alice, Mr Leslie, Royd Smith and Irene Swire, and Willie and Bill Cattow – oh and James of course. Neil Hartley was more or less in our party too. He danced with us all – especially Moué, and he has asked her to the Rotary dance. Zoë is completely furious with Moué.

You asked me to tell you who danced most with me. Well I think it would be Royd really. He was saying that he had been to some of the same parties as you in days gone by. How sweet!

The only three people I danced with out of the party were Michael, Norman Bateman and Mr Rankin who was in terrific form.

Oh dear, I’ve forgotten a member of the party: Nellie Fisher. John and Daphne were there too, but I don’t count them in the party, because of course, they stuck to the Haighton crowd all night!

It was a very good dance I thought. Mary Sagar was there with dear Hayseed looking very red, shiney and vile. I didn’t speak to them though I should have done. I think they must have left early. Poor Mary. You will probably write back and say she is very lucky – just to be perverse!

I do wish you had been there prescious. There were no uniforms there at all. You would have looked cute with me. I was really looking quite nice. But I am going to look even nicer for the Rotary if you are going to be at home. If not of course, I am not going.

Oh dear, I am longing to see you again. I do miss you. Treasure, treasure, treasure, you are the sweetest, nicest, dearest man, and I will never stop loving you.

I have just changed pens, as mine has run out of ink, and there doesn’t seem to be any around here.

I should really go out for a walk soon. I want to go really, but I’m not so keen to go with John and Daphne who are talking of going out. I hate going out in threes. I prefer ones and twos. A walk with you of course, is the ideal. Once more I must say I love you.

John and Daphne have departed – so Moué and I will have to take the dog out. I think I should post this today – so as you’ll get it on Monday. I will really have to go and put my coat on now as it will not be long till the blackout begins. Goodby for now.

Sunday.

Well Angel I didn’t post it yesterday after all as I thought I might have quite a lot more to say today.

It is twenty five to one, and Mum Moué Daphne and I have been to Church. John has gone out with Daddy to give Marj a free morning.

I am feeling very cold of nose hands and toes. What a climate. And the Gods have punished me for saying that I had much nicer hands than Winnie B. because now I have got chillblanes – I mean chilblains – well anyway, you know what I mean. But I am fighting them bravely, and hope to have got rid of them in time for your next leave. It is the first time I have been attacked like this – so it must be a punishment for crowing.

I wakened at eight this morning, thought lovingly of you, and went to sleep again and had a lovely dream. I was teaching my two wee boys to swim, and you were standing on the beach, a large and loving father with your hands in the pockets of your big blue coat. The boys seemed to be fully dressed, but this didn’t seem to trouble me at all. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a dream like that. It’s a shame you never dream about me. I am always dreaming about you; but then I am the dreaming type, and you aren’t. I must say it is much nicer to dream when awake, because you can make anything you want happen. I was thinking of you at Kilconquhar this morning and the morning I found you really asleep. I shall never forget it, because my heart really leapt and I felt dithery for a long time afterwards.

I wonder how long it will be before it happens again. It think I shall have to become your batman. Can you fix it for me? Dearest, I do want to be with you.

I wonder how Malton is looking this morning. I’m glad I know what the place is like, I can see you so much more clearly there, whereas at Bisby, I couldn’t. I don’t even know the type of countryside.

Much to my annoyance we will have to have the young Haightons down here while John and Daphne are at home. Somehow, I can’t get to know Elizabeth. She strikes me as the most reserved of creatures, and natters me no end. Then she was at the dance looking as smug and uppish as anything.

By the way, your friend Margery Duckworth was at the dance – with little Hanson. She smiled at me, and I meant to speak to her but didn’t get an opportunity. She danced with all the various Duckworths most of the time. She looked very nice, but I’m afraid she is going to become a big woman.

Well, I think that is all I have to say – except that last night I had a terrible fit of love sickness for you. I wanted to weep all evening, and at night I hugged your pullover so tight in the hopes of gaining comfort from it. It did help a little, but the nice smell of you has nearly worn off it now. I don’t mean B.O. because it never had that, but just a nice clean Ronnie – smell.

Then somehow, just as I was dozing off, you seemed to be ever so ever so near me – so you must have been with me in spirit. It would be about half past eleven. If you were asleep, it must have been your soul flying over from Malton to Colne.

Oh how I love you, and long to see you. I do want a long loving letter tomorrow.

All my love darling boy, Kathleen.

P.S. A very badly written letter, but it’s all true – even if it’s badly put. X.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 8PM 11 JAN 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. N. P. Helme, D.W.R., N.R.A. Pavilion, Bisley Camp, Brookwood, Woking, Surrey

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

11th Jan. Thurs.

My darling Ronald,

Here is your dear little fiancé writing to you from her country town. Your dear little fiancé who has at the minute got grubby hands and a shiney nose; but I think you would still like to kiss her. And she – oh dear, she is still simply longing to kiss you.

I wish your weekend leave would hurry up and come. I am longing to have you back home again. Oh, this war, I wish it would end. It’s vile being without you all this time. Darling, I love you as I never knew anyone could love.

It is a week tomorrow since I saw you, and it seems very much longer than that.  Surely you will be able to get off for the weekend of the 26^th. Well, that’s the only weekend you can possibly get in Jan. If you come then there is a good dance at the Imperial : the joing Rotary dance – 6/6. That would be nice – yes?

Angel – the latest engagement. It has really capped me, but I don’t suppose it will surprize you much. Well, Mary Sagar and Hayseed Parsons. Oh, isn’t it vile?! Poor Mary. She’ll regret that some day. Just you see my lamb. He is at home on leave just now, and they will be at the dance tomorrow. Private Part – I mean Parsons! Honey, you must be a Captain soon so as I can swank some more.

John and Daphne arrived home late last night, and both seem well and full of beans. John was very sorry you didn’t call in at Upper Berkley Street. He really seemed disappointed about it – so you see.

How goes the Hygiene course? I am surprised at you using your own words in your notes. Or maybe I’m not! You will be a very clever boy now.

James managed to get 48 hours leave to see about his uniform. In fact, it’s more than 48 hours as they are to wire when they want him, and they haven’t wired yet. He arrived back on Tuesday. We have seen very little of him though, and I think there must be some attraction in Burnley – unless it’s just Willie. He went to Manchester for his uniform.

Well dearest, I must take Prince out now. It is nearly four – so I’ve time for an hours good walk. How I wish you were here to go with me. I’ll continue later, and maybe there will be a letter from you when I get back.

… I read your letter just before I went out. It was waiting downstairs for me. I haven’t got it with me, but I don’t think there were any questions to answer, or any comments to make upon it.  Oh yes, you are vulgar, but I guess I am used to it now. I do draw the line at some things of course – but you’ll do.

Oh heck, I don’t really want to go to this dance tomorrow. I suppose I had better try on my frock tonight to see if it’s OK. When I see other people enjoying themselves, I shall probably weep. What a life.

I had a nice walk this afternoon. It was a lovely winters afternoon with frost on the ground and a very new, new moon. I wished a wish of course, and as usual, it concerned you my Angel Boy. Or should I call you Dearest Heart – or was it Darling Heart? Yes – yes you big, very big N.P. I shall now resign my post or position of President of the Nosey Parkers. You, Ronald Helme are the new president. Fancy looking over anyone’s shoulder. And just think how nosey you are about letters I receive. You always want to know from whom they are, and you even want to read them. What a quizy husband you’ll be!

Oh dear, I have just tried to blot my letter with the wrong side of the blotting paper. Here is the news. German aircraft over the east coast. Ech gosh, what a lot of German planes over here today.

The sirens went off in Cowling Earby and Barlick this morning, but the wireless has just said there have been no sirens in Britain today. So you see they’re wrong.

I am writing this on my knees, and I don’t like doing much, but John and Daphne are playing ping pong on the table. I don’t think you have ever played ping pong in this house. Amazing when we have had it for years. I think we will have it up when you come home. Oh ear I am longing to see you my darling N.P. my dearest brown eyed b-beauty. Funny the way I adore you, but there is no doubt about it at all.

How is the operation scar – on the cheek? I forgot to examine it last Friday; but it can’t have been bad because I didn’t notice it.

Ma has gone down to Moran’s to have her hair done, so Mrs Moran will be asking about you I suppose. Here she is back home again with her hair all flat and waved.

I have just heard from Moué the opinions of Mary’s engagement. Irene Swire says she is giggling about it like an infant, and not taking it at all seriously. Freda Hartley seems to consider it absurd as Mary is so young in her mind. “Now I can understand Kathleen Eadie being engaged”, says she to Irene “as she is far more mature in her mind.” So there we are.

Hayseed tells Mary he has stopped drinking, but Raymond says he is just as bad as ever. Gosh, I think he looks bloated.

How glad I am to have you my dear fat boy. Your mittens are finished, your waistcoat progresses – and every stitch filled with my love. Kisses, cuddles and caresses, Kathleen

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 4PM 9 JAN 1940
addressed Lieut. R. Helme, 1/6^th The D.W.R., The Army School of Hygiene, Keogh Barracks, Mytchett, Nr Aldershot. Hants.

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

9th Jan. Tues.

My darling Ronnie,

Your letter arrived this morning – so it has taken two days to get here. What a postal service. I can’t see why letters should take longer because there is a war on.

Anyway Sweet boy, it was lovely to get your letter this morning, and the note paper is very posh. I like the colour scheme very much, don’t you? As I see the letter was posted about eight, you must have left for this ‘ere Mitchett place fairly late on.

I am having a rather mouldy time just now. With Jenny being away for a few days, I am having plenty of housework to do. This morning I did some washing and as I hadn’t washed anything last week there was a good deal to do. I have still the hound to take out, so I had better do it soon. It is now a quarter to three. I want to post this by four, so as you will be more likely to receive it tomorrow.

I heard from Joyce Holber this morning. She was sending felicitations etc. A gushy letter, and as she has a new nephew and her other sister with one on the way, she is clucking like an old motherly hen!

Oh dear, there just isn’t any news. I am just living in a narrow groove, and I am simply not doing anything worth writing about.

I am going to this dance on Friday, but I’m not looking forward to it with any glee at all. Now if you were to be here for it, I should be getting excited already, but as no one else in the world but you is worth going to a dance with, I have a feeling I shall be bored.

It is lovely going to dances with you. Everyone can see how much we love each other, and how nice we look together. I am so proud of you in your uniform, and so many people said how nice you looked at that dance. I have quite come to the conclusion that you are the best looking and most Militrary of all the boys in your crowd that I have met. But don’t let this make you conceited please, because you could do with carrying a little less before you!

I wish this war was over, and you were back in your blue suit. Oh dear, I’m afraid it I going to be a long war, and I could weep at the thought of it. If only I could be with your I wouldn’t mind it half so much – but it’s this continual parting. I would come to France with you if I could. Really I would. I wouldn’t mind danger with you. As long as we’re together it doesn’t matter what happens. Always when you are away there is just half of me here – a stupid, helpless half of me.

Well darling, I mustn’t go on like this, or I shall be making you feel down in the mouth, and you musn’t. Anyway, I shall soon be weeing you for a little again, and that will be heaven.

I thought your ‘telegrams’ were very sweet, and you must have spent a lot of money sending them!!

There must be some news… Oh yes, Beryl and Ray are getting married at Foulridge tomorrow. Moué says a few of the lads from Keighley are coming over to give him a guard of honour. We’ll have a guard of honour – with officers though. And I’ll cut the cake with your sword, and you’ll be a Major or maybe a Colonel, and everything will be wonderful. Beloved, we will have happiness, and soon. I insist, and when I insist, it happens. We wont give up our lives for any confounded Germans – or anyone else, and we will live together happily for ever and ever.

And with these words my dearest future husband I must close.

A thousand kisses and all my love, Kathleen.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 7.15PM 7 JAN 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., The Army School of Hygiene, Keogh Barracks, Mytchett, Nr. Aldershot. Hants.

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

7th Jan. Sun.

My darling Ronnie,

You are a dear sweet satisfactory fiancé. Your phone call was a wonderful idea, and it was heavenly to hear your voice again. And it seemed to be so near, I felt that if I had leaned forward, I could have kissed you.  You are an adorable darling and no man could be more thoughtful to his sweetheart than you; and I love you so much.

Yes, I arrived home from York safely, but I didn’t find it a very pleasant journey. Firstly, there was my great love sickness which made me prick behind the eyes. Then there was Prince’s pulling, and that absurd sack clattering against my leg. I was told I would have to run to catch the Skipton train, and after having given myself a heart attack, the train didn’t go for about quarter of an hour later! Then of course there was an hour to wait at Skipton, but fortunately there was a nice fire in the waiting room.

Well dearest, it was lovely seeing you again so unexpectedly. It is wonderful to dash off by myself and see you. York will always belong to us now, just as the Middelton belongs to us.

Moué and I had tea with your Mother yesterday, as I told you, and it was a very nice tea. We came home about six, and then went to the Hippodrome with Mum and Granny to see “Robin Hood” which I still found as fascinating as ever. Funny how I like that film so much. We had just had supper when you phoned. Wasn’t it a blessing we went to the first house.

I wasn’t at Church this morning as Jenny is away for a few days, and as Mum wanted to go, I stayed to help. Actually, I didn’t want to go anyway because I washed my hair last night, and wakened with it all unruly.

I expect you will be at the Army School of Hygiene by now. I wonder what on earth they will teach you about for a whole week. Surely there wont be any practical work?

Anyway, I hope you have plenty of time to write to me, as your letters do cheer me up. Every morning I waken (except Sunday) I say to myself “Now I think there’ll be a letter from Ronnie” And that makes it easier for me to get up on these cold days.

I am knitting you mittens on the same principle (?) as the gloves. I should have them finished today or tomorrow, and then I can start your waistcoat which is going to be very posh.

Beloved, there is no news – except that Granny – the old Squirt – smoked a cigarette after lunch. It was just for effect and she said to James that she didn’t suppose his mother would do such a thing. If I had been in the room at the time I should have said that she probably had more sense. The old b-b-blighter!

Darling, you are always in my thoughts, and I am forever thinking how happy we are going to be together. All my love, Yours Kay.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 4PM 4 JAN 1940

Lieut. R. Helme, D.W.R., Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

4^th Jan. Thurs.

My darling Ronald,

You are a dear, a pet, a sweet to phone me yesterday, and it was a great surprise and pleasure. It was very fortunate you didn’t phone five minutes earlier as Moué and I had just got back home, and I should have been very bitter if I’d missed you. I was in the hall, and just think of all those endearments I used. I am getting quite daring!

Funnily enough I didn’t think the bloke who answered the ‘phone on Monday was being quite honest because he seemed so bent on convincing me that you had been up very late that morning and were very tired. But I was annoyed with myself for being so suspicious. I am so glad it was his lie and not yours. Any one else can lie to me as much as they desire – but not you. Never you, my pet.

Fancy you going away again – and so far away too. What is to happen to Prince? I am rather worried about him. If he is off his food now, he will certainly be more off it when you go.

I thought it was hound meal you bought him. He is never very thrilled with the biscuits, and definitely soak them well as he always has his houndmeal soacked – with warm gravy if poss. Hot water will do if there is nothing else. Fish once or twice a week is a good idea if there is any on the premises; but be sure there are no bones. He likes it.

Thanks for the cute chart and measurements. Should we bother getting a coat? Yes, I think we’d better seeing it’s so cold. I’ll order it this morning. I am also calling for his medallion affair for you to put on his collar. I do hope he’s O.K. when you’re away. Who will look after him?

You say in the letter this morning that you may be staying on with D.Coy, for another week, but that will be off now that your going on this course. Did you ask to go on this course or what? You should be very well informed with all these courses honey. You will able to do our plumbing for us. You will be very useful about the house wont you? I shall insist on you cleaning out the lavatory!

Here are the gloves, and the glamorous helmet which is sure to make your roar with mirth. Not only will it strike you as very perculiar, but it will be too small in the head and too loose in the neck. But you may be glad of it in France. The gloves I think you will find all right in spite of the family remarks that they look very small. Anyway, I think I have convinced them now that your hands are small as I have two pairs of your gloves, and they fit me “like a glove.” I hope you don’t find the seams inside too lumpy. In fact my treasure, I hope they prove quite satisfactory, and that you will wear them often, and think of me every time you do, and a lot more.

Reg Nutter {can it be?} came to supper last night, and as Moué was very anctious he should not be the only one asked, we had Dicky and Rita, as Reg knows Dicky, and we couldn’t think of anyone else to have. Moué kept saying before he arrived, “I do wish Ronnie was here. It would be quite all right if Ronnie and Geof were here.” And naturally, I agreed with her.

Anyway, the evening went off very well, and I think the boy quite enjoyed himself. Daddy was quite well behaved. We played ping pong and a few card games, and the party didn’t break up till about half past twelve. Needless to say, I felt half baked. Reg goes back tomorrow.

It is twelve of the clock, and Billie Cotton is on the wireless again. I am just going to have my twelve o’clock refreshment, and then I am going up the town with Moué.

Darling how I wish you were here. I am pleased to hear that you just might manage on the 12^th But if it’s inconvenient dear, the 19^th will be very nice – and I will still have it to look forward to when the 12^th is over and gone. Whenever you come it will be heavenly and I shall just look forward to it. As long as there is something to look forward to life is bearable.

I had a very nice letter from Elizabeth Marshall the other day wishing me all the best etc. She remembers you and thought you were “very sweet”. She went to a dance with two officers from your Regiment on Boxing Day. Of course, they knew you, and said you were home on Christmas leave. The dance was presumably in York – maybe Leeds. Anyway, she didn’t say who the officers were.

Your news about George was very interesting, and your story about him was no end amusing. Poor old George. I’m glad your new M.O. is nice, and had the kindness to administer unto Bracken Prince. Poor old Prince. He really is a pansy dog. I am worrying about him dear. I hope he’ll be all right without you. I am not my darling.

I am going to start another page because I want to tell you to take care of yourself when you are away. Take plenty of warm clothes and your cough mixture. I am very worried about your cough, and I’m terribly sorry it keeps you awake at night. There is nothing more vile.

Write as often as poss. though I suppose you’ll be busy with your hygiene (I can seldom spell it properly).

How I want this war to be over. It is terrible being apart from you like this. And it is going to get worse. Save yourself for me, my dear sweet loveable boy.

Kisses, cuddles and caresses,

Kay.

P.T.O.

Since your phone call this morning this letter seems rather out of date, but I am sending it never the less. You’ll will be phoning me at five, it is after three now, and I don’t know what I am to do about this affair.

I would adore to see you, and coming for Prince would be a good excuse, but Dad says definitely no to the motor run idea. The roads are like ice in these parts. Mum no(*) suggest that She and I come to Malton and stay the night tomorrow, but we haven’t seen Dad about it yet. Mum would do it I know, but Pa will probably think the idea absurd. I would love it. We could see you off on Saturday from York, and then catch the train home. Anyway, when you receive this something will be arranged. All my love Kay.

P.S. I’ll bring the gloves when we come if we come. Anyway, I wont send them today.

Postmarked COLNE LANCS 4PM 3 JAN 1940
addressed to Lieut. R. Helme. D.W.R. Church House, Norton, Malton. Yorks

Albert House, Colne, Lancs.

Wed. 3rd Jan

My dearest Ronnie,

This postal delay is worrying me more than a little. Your letters to me have arrived promptly so far, but fancy my Saturday one only arriving yesterday. Sweetheart, you must have been feeling very lonely and unloved on Monday.

So today I am writing early and posting it before lunch. It is now just nearly twelve, and Henry Cotton’s band is playing “Love Never Grows Old”.

Gosh, it’s cold here. The pipe under the bathroom basin bust this morning, and the plumbers are in now. Foulridge reservoir is frozen, and there is skating. Irene Swire ‘phoned to ask Moué to go on this afternoon, but we are going to Peggy Sagars for tea.

Reg is at home – did I tell you? Moué was out with him yesterday evening, and I’m afraid Dad is going to be difficult. The same old thing over again. He told me he didn’t like it. He’d heard something about Reg, and anyway Moué was too young etc, etc. He hasn’t said anything to Moué yet, but he gave her one of his celebrated pained looks when she came in. Mum has gone and asked the lad to supper tonight – so I hope Pa doesn’t freeze him out. Anyway, he may not be able to come. He came in for a few minutes last night and Mum and I met him. He seems quite a nice boy; but not a patch on you Angel Boy. He hasn’t your twinkling eyes and quick smile.

I have nearly finished your gloves. Just one thumb to do, and then I’ve to press and sew them up. I have been doing a bit in all my odd moments.

Dad and Uncle Stan and James went across to the Hipp. last night to see “Robin Hood”. I have already seen it twice, but I want to go again with Mum and Moué. I think it was lovely. Romantic!

I don’t think I told you (you never tell me anything) that James went for an interview to Chester on Saturday – to do with the R.A.M.C. He has been advised to get his uniform, and may be called up in a fortnight – but maybe not for four or six weeks. Not longer anyway. Oh dear, have I told you before? You know I believe I have. What a memory.

Treasure, the time goes slowly when you are away. Do you think it will be the weekend of the 19^th you get off? That is the weekend Bill is expected here. Dicky and Rita are probably running a party that weekend. “Oh hell,” says you “Oh hell” says me. I wish we could go to a really nice dance beloved. Dicky’s dos are so boring and unromantic. In fact, they make me squirm. All that Scottish dancing and messing around feeling cold! Painful. And I can’t make “my operation” the excuse for not doing the dances this year!

Is Prince still ok? If he is still constipated – although it was probably the change of air – give him some boiled milk. And if a more drastic method is necessary, give him medicated parefin (?) or olive oil. About a desert spoonful. Fancy the big softy being afraid of a wee goat. It was a goat you said, wasn’t it? Your letter is up the other stairs. I’m afraid he would never make a big game hunter. Sparrows are his limit!

Someone is just playing Willie’s pet Chopin’s Ballad in Ab Major. So Moué is listening, all ears. Now she will be able to tell Willie that it is beautiful.

I have just been eating a tangerine – so probably you will be able to smell it on the paper. You never had a single tanger or date (literal) when you were here. Which was very un-Christmasy dear. I think I’ll have to send you some Stuffed dates. I seem to remember you like them.

There is a very exciting story on the wireless. Oooh, it’s grim. About climbing a dangerous rock in Wales – “Devil’s Gully.”

Well sweet one, there is no more news – except that I love you. And that isn’t news – it’s history. Everyone knows it. Sweet boy, dear boy, my boy. Come home soon, because I am so lonely without you.

Dearest Ronald, I hope you get this letter tomorrow.

All my love treasure, Kathleen.