you who had thought of it. I do not want that to read the least bit unpleasantly, what I intend expressing is my desire to come to you direct and fully, and stay with you, not dispersed. On other occasions you will find I am a jealous and selfish lover who demands the un-demandable. I shall snarl at appropriate intervals to suitably impress you. I am not afraid of the interpretation you will give to any act or thought of mine, but I do not want an audience of two nor desire the help of anyone else. Do not expect others to share your view of my virtues, please do not try.
You say if you lose me you will have lost all. Nonsense. First, I am not ‘all’. Second, you are not going to lose me through any act of mine. I am going to hold onto you as tightly as I can – a sort of death-grip!
No, I should not wish you to go out to work, though I should resist you becoming a home-tied, house-proud drudge. I don’t know about children. I am glad you don’t sink to the bottom upon entering the water. I can’t swim very well, you know, but I can keep afloat and I have confidence. We shall swim together one day. I’ll ‘find you lazy’ you say. You’ll have to improve, if you are, but I don’t suppose you are. If you are, I’ll shake you. (Aren’t I horrible?)
You must understand how I ache for you, want my light-brown arms to enfold your white body, my hands to forage around, my body to give you its message, my whole being to dominate you yet be subject to you. I want you to receive me. I want to pierce you and be part of you. I want to tell you that I love you.
Chris
25 May 1944
Dear Bessie,
I am writing this in ‘Alex.’ The first leave I have had in 16 months. You can understand that I am a little elated to be my own master – be it only for a little while. We only have one military function to perform, i.e. salute every officer we pass. I salute them with great gusto, believing the while that my act is another nail in Hitler’s Coffin!
27 May. I am now in the new, clean, bug-free billet, and am enjoying the change from the desert. Have had many fine ices, ice drinks, and meals hastily cooked and nicely served. It is nice to drink tea from china cups and see the whole of the face when one shaves.
The clothes of the people here (‘Europeans’) would make you go green with envy. Very fine cloth, well made. I have yet to see a pair of trousers under £5, prices are very high. There are many clubs here, and some are really fine, in leafy, green, quiet surrounds. Have had some swims, but the facilities are not so good as I had expected, as the sea wall prevents bathing too near the central part of the town. Have been on a ‘sight-seeing’ tour with the YMCA, this morning, but it was not very good, some of the alleged Roman wall-scrawlings looked to me very much like 1944 daubings.
Have had a number of photographs taken and I think some are like me. We must have a lot done, as my Mother wails that my eldest brother is looking so old, and we have to keep on having photos done till we get one which says the reverse. Will send you copies later. There are many luscious ‘come-hither’ types around here. I must tell you the whole yarn later on. I have bought a ‘Swan’, but as you can see by the bad writing, the nib is not very suitable.
Strawberries are 2s. a lb. here, potatoes 6d. a lb. I am looking forward to getting your letters upon my return. For me that is the only ‘snag’ of this leave. I hope you fully realise just how I feel. My apologies for this very poor effort. My brother is a foot away!
My love.
Chris
11 June 1944
My dear and lovely Bessie,
How can I start to reply to the seven letters that awaited me when I arrived here, the two that came the day after, and the one I received yesterday? Shall I reply to them chronologically, or in order of importance?
These letters of yours are just like an English river running through green fields, clear, refreshing, bright, confident. You come rippling down at me, surround me with your beauty and your meaning, and just as I am thinking ‘that was wonderful’, you come to me again to say that you still are.
So will you accept my humble thanks (you make me feel humble) for these many evidences of your feelings, and allow me to commend you on all the fine, small writing you did. Don’t try to make it any smaller or you’ll ruin your eyes.
The story of my return from Alexandria is a sorry one. I will leave all the other leave details till I have replied to your other letters, but I must tell you this. We did not last out the third week, but on the Wednesday had to en-train. I awoke in the barracks with a bad headache (I never have headaches usually) which persisted throughout the train journey which lasted the usual 24 hours. My brother had to cart all my kit about, while I carried only the rifles. Arrived here I saw the Medical Corporal, went to bed, had tablets, slept a little. Following day saw the MO [Medical Officer] who gave me a good general examination and said there was nothing wrong with me. He excused me duty. More tablets and bed. The following day I only had a pretty bad ache around my eyes, again excused duty. Today I am somewhat cloudy in the eye-region, but expect to be bunged on the switchboard any minute.
By the way I have a typewriter, Underwood (cost me £14 14s. in 1938). Would you like to have it, if so I’ll try and think out a scheme. I could get £25 for it any day I think, but it is more useful than money and is just lying about useless at home.
I am glad you like the second-hand bookshop idea.
I am sorry about your gumboils. I should leave your private (acquisitive) Dentist and pay at least one visit to the Dental Hospital at Leicester Square, which is concerned with saving teeth, not making money through extractions and dentures. Don’t have your teeth out before you need do, and without seeing the Dental Hospital. They are good people. I shall make some lighter remarks in a later letter. The enclosed photos (most grim) show some of my teeth fairly well. I lost two on my right, upper, through private dentists. You do want me to tell you, here, that I love you though you be molar-less? I do!
I give you my glad sympathy at your efforts to abate the smoke nuisance. You are a good girl, Bessie. We are now getting 50 Players/Gold Flake weekly out here. Pity I cannot send mine to you.
I must again say I don’t want you to think of me as a superior. Of course I kid myself I have a sharper perception of some (maybe unimportant) things than most others. But you are better than me at French, Algebra, Arithmetic, and I am confused (and remaining so) about Morse and Electricity and Magnetism.
I love you.
Chris
12 June 1944
Dearest,
It is a little bit pathetic for you to tell me I am ‘such a lover’, when all I have been able to do is put on paper a few sentences conveying what I mean, but not, surely, the force with which I mean it. You have been wonderful in gathering my intentions, you will be wonderful administering to my needs. Please never forget that I have needs, and that you are my greatest.
It is not much good me trying to tell you that I shall not flirt with hundreds of others. Events will show you.
But for
