British thankful

THE SPEAKER, NEW LONDON, N.H.. May 29^th, 1941

South Wales, March 22, 1941

Dear Professor A.

I have so little to write about that I am copying part of my husband’s letter. He was going to write to you but spent the whole weekend “digging for victory” and was so tired and stiff he wasn’t in the mood for letter writing. We have planted vegetables (parsnips and leeks) that will be ready next January, so you see how we all look ahead as January, February, March and April are the difficult months where foodstuffs are concerned. I am thankful we have come through these months so well—but it saddens us to hear of our shipping losses. Our sailors risk their lives to feed us so we have all tried to help by planting and eating as many vegetables as possible. Your Aid-to-Britain Bill heartened us all. We are overjoyed and encouraged.

We are grateful to you all for what you are doing. The press is full of praise for all you are doing for us. The president of the Board of Trade, Captain Lyttelton, described the United Status Lease-Lend Bill as “the most generous gesture ever made.” “No Englishman should ever forget what the United States has done for us in 1941.” “I sincerely believe that the memory of this help will survive and have a lasting impression upon the relations between the two countries. It is upon those relations that the future of the world and of peace depends.”

Several bombs dropped in a park near my parents’ home. I hope they nave quiet night this Wednesday, as it is their fortnightly (it used to be a weekly duty!) duty to fire watch. My sister and aunt watch for incendiaries up to 1 a.m.—and then my parents (ages 72 and 73) watch from 1 a.m. to 6 a.m. This is, of course, if there is an “alert” on. Several houses join together and take turns in fire watching.

I am sorry that I cannot get friends to write. I know very few here—except those I share duty with at the Evacuee Club. My husband suggests I write to DAILY TELEGRAPH asking for letters to be sent to you, especially from those who can describe the damage to historical buildings.

We are so pleased that the damage to Guildhall is not as severe as at first thought. The roof is completely gone but the walls are intact.

I am ashamed to send my letters—they are usually so hurriedly written, but they give you the ordinary busy everyday average housewife’s outlook on life in general. We are longing for summer, even if it does mean attempted invasion.

The winter with blackout regulations is a dreary affair, though nothing could be so depressing as last June—yet we have come through it all. We feel now that the worst is over, though we know we have severe tests in front of us, but we can rely on all our friends and on ourselves while we had the worry of France giving in to contend with last summer.

At the “refuge shelter” meeting last week they spoke of the help America was giving—parcels for the bombed, etc. The 1st Aid Post keep “sweetened tea” ready to give people suffering from shock in the event of a raid.

The children I have met do not mind the siren sounding, as it means they can leave their lessons and do just as they like, within reason, in the shelter. They have sing-songs, or read magazines and books provided for and “alarm” or “alert”, or knit, and they can talk as much as they like so that the “alert” period is quite a pleasant time. My sister is Headmistress of a Secondary School (like your High School, I presume) and she has often heard sighs of regret when the “All Clear” goes and they have to return to work and order. Most teachers believe in letting the girls sing and enjoy themselves during an “alert”; otherwise, the “alert” periods would be irksome and a strain and a period to be dreaded. They time the girls getting to the shelter. I think my sister’s school can be cleared (450-500 pupils) in three minutes.

Yours sincerely,

E.L.