Letter from Harry Massey to Barbara Massey

Letter No 75. Saturday - Oct 4th. Major J H Massey, 6 Palestine coy, The Buffs, M.E.F.

My darling own Barbara,

Lisa would, & should have been five tomorrow. I have been thinking about her nearly all the time. And you will have been thinking, I suppose more than me. How lovely she would have been, the darling. She would have been beginning to read & write now, & go to school. I think of her so much that when I come to write, I feel too numbed to do so. If only we could talk together about her. And I shall always remember this night five years ago, when we went out together, to the place on the corner in Otley, & met the Mitchells; - then home to bed, & sweet gentle love; & up again at 1-0. & tea - & the drive to Four Gables. And all that day, waiting. And then there was our pretty sweet baby - & you were so contented & happy. How fortunate we were. And how tragically unfortunate we have been. Anything else could have happened - if only they would not have taken Lisa from us.

I want to say & write down again - that we will always remember her, & love & miss her, as long as we live, for her lovely self & for the happiness which she gave to us.

It is also, exactly one year ago since our last night together. That last two weeks at Gobowen was lovely, & I do not know what I should have done without it. Our rush down from Yorkshire & goodbye on Paddington Station, was all such a nightmare. Today, I cannot understand how I ever managed to leave you - at 4-0 a.m. on the Sunday morning.

2. If I ever have to leave you again - God knows what will happen.

Sweetheart, why did they have to separate us, of all people. So many thousands would welcome separation - & so many more thousands out here get along so well without their wives.

The more I think, the more I want to be sent home & feel I should be.

Your A.F.M cable came yesterday to say you had not heard for some time - & I replied today to say I am alright - & telling you about my intentions to be sent home. I do hope it will make some sense to you - I think it will. At first, I intended to leave the A.G. to inform you, not risk baffling you in a cable. But I could not resist it, & feel somehow that I may be doing something to give it a push.

I must tell you a little more about this place, how things go on. But now, I think I will go to an early bed, & write again tomorrow. Today I wanted to write as well as think about our anniversaries; we have so many sad ones, now. If only we could be together. Goodnight darling Barbara. You know I love you more than life, & with all my heart & soul & that I always will do. Dearest darling. x x Harry x x.

Sunday Oct 5th. I was hoping very hard for a letter from you this morning, as I have none for a fortnight, now. But all I received was the B.C.&W. annual report, with which you did not enclose your love or any message. And a missing letter from Vera, of July 8th giving me all the usual Bond & Cotterell gossip.

3. The weather in this country is now changing. The day time remains as hot as ever, if not hotter - & those hot & oppressive winds are blowing again. So that the order of dress for the day is just the same - cotton shirts & lots of perspiration. But in the evening, when the sun goes down, the temperature instead of staying more or less where it was all day, goes down low. And seems to keep on getting colder, until the following morning. A month ago I slept with a sheet up to my waist - & now, blanket by blanket, I have reached three - & changed back into my thicker pyjamas. In the mornings, I sally forth at about 6-45 to 7-0, & now wear a collar & tie & a jacket or battle dress blouse above my shorts. The variation in temperature is amazing - & is much the same as it was in Egypt last December, which I must have told you about them. We had one heavy shower of rain this week - it lasted about 1/4 hour, nothing has been seen since. But it will be beginning properly soon, & then I am told, it is terrific, & this place, instead of being cracked & baked, will just be a sea of disgusting streaky mud, & gum boots have to be worn all the time.

Monday Oct 6th. I could not write yesterday, darling. And I wrote an Airgraph this morning to tell you so. Anniversaries are lovely things when they are to mark our being engaged or married, or just meeting - but Lisa's 5th birthday & leaving you & England are another matter. And both on the same day were too much for me. I felt utterly desperate yesterday, & did not know what to do with myself - until finally I went for a long hard walk of 10 miles or more. This had the effect of quietening me down a lot - & when I came back, I was able to have a good hot bath in my canvas

4. affair & eat dinner. And afterwards, I had Ben & Headley & Salamon into my room & we talked until bedtime - local gossip. But I'm afraid that a change seems to have come over me this last week or two. I feel so painfully miserable & hopeless & my brain just thumps round in dreary circles. My private life up to now, has centred entirely around my writing to you & it still does. If it did not, it would have nothing to centre round at all. But even though I sit here for hours in front of my pad, I get so little down on paper - nothing seems to me worth while the telling - except that I love you & think always of your love for me - & that I want to see Max - & that I want to come home. But I cannot just go on, & on & on writing about those things. Perhaps this place has got something to do with it - though I really feel that I like it very much more than the last one. It is certainly less busy & I am in the Mess just with my own officers & nobody else. And they really do bore me & annoy me. And in addition to which they have not much love for me & are rather scared of me. And Salamon, though a decent chap, is very dull & nothing more or less than a regular army sergeant. And then the work is entirely different. Before it was nearly 100% administration & almost more than I could do. Here it all depends on my own energy & initiative. My officers - except Ben - the paragon - & the entire Coy seem bent on as easy & as easy going a time as possible & the maximum amount of time off. Whereas

5. I am determined to make the most of this 3 months training & try & make soldiers of them. So my training programme gives them organised games on Wednesday afternoon a half day on Saturday - & all other days, including Sunday are work from 6 to 6. And the officers & N.C.Os are so hopelessly gutless & unwilling to shoulder their responsibilities that I am like a big policeman in the Coy & seem to spend much of my time shouting at the men: platoon commanders & sergeants - work. And then, as I told you before, they compare notes with other Coys & find that they are having it harder. The last Coy here. for example - they just seemed to more or less please themselves, & so my people want to do the same. And do the result is, I am informed by Ben & the C.S.M & C.Q.M.S - they just think that they are very unlucky to be in No. 6 Coy, & to have a hard Major. And I am cordially disliked. That does not worry me for one moment, & just makes me all the more determined to keep them at it. But what does worry me & annoy me, is the bloody state of mind of these people, & complete selfishness & lack of spirit & determination & effort to win the war. And also the rotten slackness of the other Coy Commanders, which allows them to drift on in such a way. I've seen a number of them now & I know how they go on. There were two in the barracks when I was there - & I have seen & heard others. They all have a good old fashioned lunch from about 12-30 until 2-0 - & lots of beer & sherries

6. beforehand. And then religiously have a sleep in the afternoon. And the trouble is that the higher authorities just carry on in the same way. I have heard them say it, young & old - little twirps of 21 & 22 & old fools who ought to know better - "the afternoon is sacred to the British officer." And all this in spite of the fact that letters have come round from Wavell & from [Andaimlock?] - that officers will work in the afternoons - the enemy does; & drink will be in moderation - The Navy have to convoy most of it here. But there is so little that I can do about it, beyond having my own unit up to scratch, & here I do not allow officers to drink at lunch time - & they have an hour for lunch, & then carry on. It really does seem the least that one can do, to work one's hardest & so hurry on the end of the war. God - how I want to see the end of it all.

I am rapidly becoming an almost complete Jewish Unit, I think. I told you that [Pillatt?] left a month ago. So Headley is now my only British subaltern. Sgt Griffith left yesterday, to be C.Q.M.S. in a new Coy. And in a month's time, C.Q.M.S. Hemmings goes, & I have a Jew in that job. And when C.S.M. Jack arrives back from S.A. - Sgt Kiley goes too. So I am left with Salamon, Headley & Jack. And I have Jewish understudies for all these, & anything may happen any time. Sgt Medukoff was the understudy for the C.Q.M.S. & a very

7. clever & able chap he was too. But I could not trust or rely upon him - & he continued to be a slippery customer in spite of warnings from me. And so I shovelled him off last week & made a present of him to Col Leicester who wanted an office accountant. And so I have now changed Lubitsch over onto the Q side & he is shaping very well. To take his place, I have my eye on a L/Cpl Golumbowsky who is a M.A. & quite a pleasant bloke. He has rather a pretty wife. who crashed in on me in highly irregular fashion some months ago, to beg leave for her husband. She asked me if I did not think him quite the best man in my Coy, & being rather peeved at being crashed in on, I said no certainly not - at which she burst into tears.

I'm feeling a little better than I did when I began this evening - thank goodness. Though I don't know why. I think writing to you clears my train & takes away all my cares & worries of being away from you - until after a page or two, & I begin to feel in touch with you again. I think probably this feeling in touch has a great deal to do with my whole outlook. Earlier this evening, I felt so hopelessly & helplessly far away & cut off. The sandflies are out this evening - & so I have a moon tiger burning on my table - & I am smoking Camel cigarettes. All these little things help - Also

8. I have moved your photographs from the right to the left of my table, & so I can see you more as I write. I love your looks, my darling.

I had a blow of bad news this morning - a telegram from Cairo from Frank to say "Impossible to join you, writing." So there goes my leave again. It is very disappointing. I wonder what has interfered. It must be something urgent & important, because he was very anxious to come back for this tour. I shall hang on & hope that he can come later on.

I had a letter from the dreadful Gil today - return of post to my Airgraph thanking him for his unwelcome cigarettes. It was disgustingly full of sly digs, & catch phrases & bon mots & bits of French & hackneyed Latin. But even so, quite interesting, as I have not heard from Jimmy for a long time - & Frost, Birchall etc either have not written at all or their letters have been unlucky. This Concentration of Labour is very interesting & I am wondering how it will effect Wm & North. business seems to have gone bad every where - no cotton to be had. Willie has been ill again, but nobody noticed for about a month. And apparently my last letter to Birchall from Gebowen did some good - & among other things, a magnificent new set of offices has been almost completed - with modern lighting.

9. fitted carpets, a private lavabo & so on. How disgusting to think of Willie being in sole possession, even if Frost & [?] do do all the work. Lots of talk about the Maestro, the Massey touch & veiled hints about another amalgamation, & going onto the Board together. He said he had seen Amy from time to time, either with a "supply officer or some persona grata" Christ! Its about time that [----] grew up.

I could go on now, but I must go to bed. It is 12-30 & I get up at 6-15. Goodnight, my own darling. x x x x x H.

Tuesday - 7 Aug. At last I have heard from you again today - a letter, No 55, & 2 Airgraphs of Sep 11th & 12th & three snaps of you & Maxie. Oh - what a diffeence it makes darling. They all arrived at 5-0 o'clock, when I had given up hope for today, & I just felt like another person immediately. It was a lovely letter too - though at 6 pages, one of the short ones, for us nowadays. I always feel a little bit guilty & idle when I send off a letter of less than 8 pages - mainly because I always think of it arriving at the end of one of those awful blank spells, & then you being disappointed to get such a short letter after such a long time. They are a devil those blanks, & you seem to have them worse than me, poor darling. At least you can tell from the numbering of my letters, that I am not neglecting you. I wish I could do something about it.

Now darling one - you wrote in your letter that you hoped I had not written to Zag or B-D. as you felt I was safer where I am. I never did write that letter,

10. partly because it seemed such a hopeless quest, & partly because of what you say - & partly through procrastination too, in not being able to make my mind up what to do - & partly to wait & see what you said.

But this compassionate method is different - & in the event of this slender chance coming off & my coming home - they would probably put me on a home job of some kind, after service in the M.E. & the reasons for my coming home. The more cheerful tone of your letter, makes it easier for me to face the task of sticking it out here - but even so I still intend & want to try, & I shall long for your reply to come soon. I am just dying for you, sweet Barbara & as you say it is no joke.

And it was sweet of you to understand my wanting sexy photographs of you. What a poor substitute for you yourself - but they would be so lovely to have with me. I think so much of our love life & the wonder & heaven which lies ahead of us when we come together again - oh darling, can you imagine how gorgeous & thrilling it is going to be. I hope Elinor & Nicolette will be coming to stay with you.

And I am now sending you one I did not send on before - in which my towel is not arranged in too ladylike a position. also one I forgot, of myself & Headley; I cannot find the negative & so maybe I sent it on already. I think it would be a good idea if I sent you some photo printing paper - & I will do this by Airmail.

Max looks grand in the snaps - really perfect & lovely. I like the one of him looking over your

11. shoulder - he looks such a serious little man. Has his hair begun to grow yet? He certainly seems to resemble me in the thick forehead he has - & what a big head altogether - the little devil & you poor darling. And they are quite good of you too, & I love to have the. They will go in my album tomorrow. I am looking at them now - you both look sweet & how I love my loved ones & want to come home to them.

What filthy & shabby treatment from P.Rs to your Ma. It is really hellish how rotten & mean & dirty most people are. Granny's treatment was much the same though she was by no means left broke. The Assn. gave her a pension of £500 p.a. & then stopped it dead after two years And without Grandad there would have been no Assn. And he put F.J. Smith in the chair - Peter next to him. I hope that shifty Massey, Brinmanoubie (& his silly wife) & Farmer, all come to a sticky end. I should imagine that Massey, blast him for having our name, is at the bottom of it all, after the various home truths which your pa told him from time to time. But Clarkson must be a weak kneed old fool to allow them to do this. God, how dirty people are - & what short & convenient memories they have. I think you did perfectly right to close our a/c & write them a stinker. The pity is that it does so little good beyond letting off your steam. Such people have very thick skins - & if they have any conscience at all, they only feel a little relieved when the nasty dirty act is done. Good God - what difference is £50 going to make to them. I imagine Frank will be pretty disgusted, though he will not dare to say so on account of his

12. own job. Your poor mother - it is one thing after another. Do please give her a special message from me again, & tell her how fond of her I am, & she must try hard & not worry & think so much, & get strong again. When I come home, I want to see her as I remember her. And she still has much to live for - she has all her grand children - & we intend to give her another grand daughter, don't we sweetest?

Poor old Peter has got bad feet now. He came to me the other day, having been on a newly laid runway, & his feet were covered & filled with tar. This I have to drag off with the help of petrol & oil to dissolve it. As a result his feet were raw, & two of them have become infected - one pretty badly. This one is now covered in zinc ointment & bandaged up. He struggles & yelps when Chainarzki & the medical orderly touch him - but when I do, he just lies back & watches me with big trusting eyes, & moans a little inside. It is such a help just to have a dog with me, who is fond of me & trusts me. He is becoming more & more intelligent & sensible - & also bloody funny too. I will tell you about him in another letter. I am sending the brown brother to the other hankie, darling. I do hope you like them. I have held it to my heart & kissed it & all my love comes with it. All my love is yours for ever & always, my darling - and it will always be getting deeper & stronger. I adore my sweet Barbara. x x x Harry. x

Annotated: 75

Mrs H Massey, Norton House, Park Lane, Beaconsfield, Bucks.

Annotated: Changes in coy, almost completely Jewish, no leave w/Frank, P.R.'s