Your sample of summer weather, no rain till the end of May and then tons of it with cold as well is just like England at its most inconsistent worst. So you had your overcoat on for the 21 June and a fire too. Here we are in the worst part of the Indian summer, August, September, when we get the rains (monsoon) well and truly upon us and the heat still continues, so we are in a stifling atmosphere at times.
Glad you have enjoyed my various descriptions of places I have been to… Of course since your letter was written the whole course of the war has changed completely and Jerry may well be out of the war before the end of the year. The Russians are doing well now with Romania changing sides and Bulgaria packing in, while our two campaigns in France are both making wonderful headway.
I see you mention big changes on the White Hill … there certainly will be some changes to see when I get back but the one concerning me most at the moment is the loss of our home, or rather waiting to hear how much is lost. I have not had any details from Edie yet. Dad I hear is incapacitated from writing as he has his right arm in a sling, but I have written to him telling him I don’t expect any replies from him for a while. Your hours of work don’t give you much chance for a week-end, and fire watching duties don’t help a bit. I guess you fall asleep at all sorts of odd times when you can… I certainly agree with you that the sooner this bloody war is over the better… Let us hope it does not go on much longer… I must get rid of this wretched letter or I will miss the mail.
Cheerio,
Freddie
The Fourteenth Army became popularly known as the ‘Forgotten Army’ owing to the lack of recognition its exploits received throughout the longest land campaign of the war.
Harold Upton served as an NCO in the 1st Battalion, Seaforth Highlanders, which was based in India and Burma throughout the war. He wrote a series of letters to his girlfriend, later fiancée, expressing his hopes for 1944.
2828228 L/Sgt H.E. Upton
M.T. Section
1st Bn. The Seaforth Highlanders
India Command
January 1st 1944
Dearest Jenny,
I have been disappointed in my expectations to find several letters of yours waiting for me on my return as none have come for three weeks. However Jenny today I received your airgraph greetings which brought me much happiness and I feel sure that there will be letters on the way; mails for everybody have been very poor lately. I have not had any other letters either.
Well Jenny the New Year celebrations were a vast improvement on the Christmas do and everybody seems to have had a good time. I did not go to bed until about four o’clock this morning but did not have to be carried to it; I must confess that I was not feeling too good this morning.
There is so much I would like to say to you Jenny and I hope that you will not think I am still under the influence, I am as sober as a judge. I hate hinting at things and in my recent letters I have not done anything else, mostly due to the fact that I am afraid that your answer may be no. I confessed to you before that I loved you but was not a free man but now that I am free of all promises I find it difficult to tell you just how much I love you. Can I hope dear Jenny that you may be able to care enough for me to marry me when things get back to normal? We have not been able to see much of each other but we have exchanged many confidences in our letters and think we have a pretty good idea of what the other is like. Will you make an old man happy Jenny and say yes? I know your heart was elsewhere but perhaps in time you could forget and I know I would do all I could to make you happy. It is a lot to ask you to risk and marriage is said to be a gamble but I am sure that you would not find the life we would have to lead very trying; it may be a bit lonely at times but it has its compensations. Don’t think that you are second best, it was just bad luck that I didn’t meet you sooner and I don’t think you would hold this against me. You have no idea Jenny how happy you make me with any little endearments in your letters, think how much happier you will make me if you say that you will marry me; I promise I will never give you cause to regret it.
If only this war would end soon and I could see you perhaps I could tell you better how much you mean to me but all the same I do believe you have a good enough opinion of me to know that I would not love you just to pass the time and that if you can’t return it you will not let it make any difference to our friendship.
Perhaps this is a very poor way of telling you how I feel about you but I am no poet Jenny and what I lack in words I make up for in feeling. Do try to make 1944 the happiest year ever for me dearest one, I know you want to see me back but it would be a much better homecoming if you were waiting for me with open arms. I will write again soon Jenny and hope some of your letters arrive tomorrow. All my love and many kisses,
Yours ever,
Harold
Sadly, Harold Upton lost his life during the battle of Imphal in April 1944 as the Fourteenth Army repulsed a Japanese attempt to invade India.
Ever since the evacuation from Dunkirk in 1940, the Allies had been looking for a way to return to the Continent and by the summer of 1944 preparations for this second front were complete. A vast Allied armada crossed the English Channel on 6 June 1944: D-Day.
Bob Connolly served as an NCO with the 8th Battalion, Rifle Brigade, part of the 11th Armoured Division that landed on Juno Beach on 13 June 1944 and took part in the vicious battles around Caen between June and August. He wrote a series of letters to his wife both before and after his departure.
6969573 Cpl Connelly, R.W.
‘H’ Coy, 8th Rifle Brigade
A.P.O. England
9-6-44
My own darling wife Sheila,
Hope sweet that my letters wont take too long going through the various stages, and if a few days elapse between them don’t worry honey. [It] will no doubt be rather difficult at times, but believe me dearest I’ll write as often as possible, please sweetheart write as often as you can, for hearing from you will be such a grand tonic, doesn’t matter if they are very short, any little thing you do will be refreshing and interesting news to me.
Everything is OK honey, food good and plenty of kip, all the boys are in the best of health and spirits are very high…
Sweetheart we have been very lucky the last few weeks, [I’m] so glad that we saw so much of each other, I’ve been wonderfully happy and have been walking on air, our marriage has been and always will be such a marvellous partnership. Lucky Connelly they call me, I certainly have been in love, thank you so much honey for deciding to spend your life in partnership with me. Five years now dearest, and I am more in love with you now than I ever dreamt was possible in my wildest dreams.
Just in case my letters get held up, I’ll take this opportunity of wishing you all the very best on your birthday, such a pity we can’t spend it together, but honey you know I’ll be thinking of you whatever the circumstances I’m in, loving you with all my heart, soul and strength as always. Please buy yourself something very special for me, don’t think of the expense, for on your next birthday after this we will be together I feel certain, the war will be over and I’ll be able to select you something really special myself.
Must say cheerio now honey, look after your dear self, my heart is with you, and don’t worry about anything, everything is going to be OK. Forgive this being rather short, I’ll be able to give you more news soon.
God bless you my precious, all my love and kisses are for you only,
Bob
xxxxxxxx
6969573 Cpl Connelly, R.W.
‘H’ Coy, 8th Btn. Rifle Brigade
A.P.O. England
15-6-44
My own darling wife Sheila,
Had a great surprise today, two lovely letters, really sweetheart, they have done me the world of good, [I] now feel in the very best of spirits, such a lovely tonic to hear from the girl I adore, so soon after landing, please do write as often as possible my precious, hearing from you will keep me going and make me so much happier and bring de
ar old England lots closer.
The RAF are doing marvellous work and it’s most heartening to see how they rule the air. Swarms of fighters sweep the skies from dawn to dusk, and equally terrific amounts of bombers fly in formations through flak so thick that it seems impossible for them to reach their objectives but believe me they do.
I naturally can’t tell you what we are doing, but we are all in the best of health and spirits, and doing extremely well for food, cups of char and cigarettes, and of course all the usual trimmings.
The French people are very pleased to see us and most friendly, we are having lots of fun trying to understand and making ourselves understood with the help of cards and books. [I’m] beginning to pick up quite a bit of their language, and think I’ll study a foreign language properly when we get this lot over, and I’m once more back in civies with you my precious better half.
Its such a crime that some of these lovely little villages have suffered so much in the cruel blows of warfare, there is plenty of beautiful countryside still to be seen however, green fields, hedges and fields, stand out beautifully and defiantly as nature’s reply to mans’ wilful and wicked destruction. The weather is super now and we are all getting very brown, would love to spend a holiday with you here when peace once more reigns, feel sure you would love it. Passed a lovely old cottage in most romantic settings yesterday that would have pleased your artistic eye and made your dear fingers itch for a paint brush or sketch book…
Trust my other letters have arrived OK and haven’t been held up too long, also that you received the birthday greetings in time; you will get yourself something new from me wont you dearest? The old account can stand a few ‘quid’, [I] only wish I could be with you and buy something myself, but never mind sweetheart, I have a very strong feeling that by your next birthday we will be together in our own little home, with the world at peace at long last.
Sweetheart thanks a lot for the beautiful little enclosed sentiment, am looking forward to more, you are a darling, in every way and make me so very happy. Oh my dearest one I love you with all my heart, soul and strength and always will, stay just as sweet as you are honey, you’re marvellous, and I’m the luckiest devil on earth to have such a delightful partner. With my luck and a couple of million other helpers this blasted war should soon be over. Honestly though dearest, don’t worry for I promise you I won’t be taking any unnecessary risks.
Well my darling Sheila must say cheerio for now, and try to get a spot of sleep, nights are a trifle hectic here, and owing to having a little job on last night didn’t get much shut eye…
Look after yourself my precious one.
All my love & kisses are for you only.
God bless,
Bob
xxxxx
On 6 June Captain Gordon was part of the enormous fleet that crossed over to France. A doctor at No. 24 General Hospital in Scarborough, Yorkshire, he spent the week leading up to D-Day, as well as the day itself, on board an American Landing Ship Tank (LST) that was earmarked for casualty evacuation.
Captain S. Gordon
24 General Hospital
15.16 **
Scarborough
20/6/44
Dear Roy and Jan,
Now at last I can tell you of my adventures. On 29th May I went to Southampton and immediately went on board a special ship. We were 3 doctors and 33 men. It was what we had been practicing for at the Isle of Wight. Our job was to bring back casualties: Easy isn’t it. This is what happened.
The organisation was amazing… It was gigantic and also in flaming technicolour. There were thousands of ships of all shapes and sizes, each shape and size to do a special work. You may have seen pictures of some in the papers or on the newsreel. Ours was a landing ship for tanks and someone has a brainwave and decided that they would be useful to take vehicles over and bring back casualties. It’s a large ship with a flat bottom and 2 big doors in front… The tank deck which is 3 decks down is like a huge hall and is big enough to take at least 50 large tanks. Above that is the sleeping quarters for the crew and troops galley (cook house). The top deck was flat and was for carrying lorries and also had the cabins for the officers and the dining room. Above that of [course] was the bridge…
The first few days were spent unpacking the boxes of medical stores and putting them so that we would get at them easily as while vehicles were on board they had to be packed away… The patients themselves (on stretchers) were [fixed] on special racks which had to be fitted up and taken down and when these were full the remainder were laid on the floor (on the stretchers) in pairs or lashed together to prevent the stretcher from moving if the ship got into heavy seas and my goodness it certainly could roll. It didn’t pitch at all but it certainly could and did roll from side to side until it was almost impossible to stand and all loose things rolled also. Walking wounded went up to the troop deck where they slept in special bunks.
On Saturday we loaded up with lorries of all kinds, ducks (… which go on land or water) and a variety of different other vehicles, with their drivers and officers – about 400 men and that evening we were told all about the invasion – when, where and how and our place in it. It was due to start on Monday but it was postponed until Tuesday.
We set sail on Monday night at the end of the assault convoy and went along a lane through the mine field which had already been made for us by mine sweepers and marked out with flags. The sea was very rough and the crossing took about 15hrs and we anchored about a mile off the British sector of beach about 12 noon, about 4 hours after the assault had started and apart from some wrecked ships and assault boats and some firing from enemies there was very little to be seen of the actual battle. The Germans had just been pushed off the beach. I did see a tank and pillbox having a direct hit from a battle ship.
In this section the casualties were comparatively small on either side and we saw quite a number of German prisoners and every so often a mine would blow up on the beach. Because of this the ships were unloading on to special carrying craft which went from them to the beach and was rather a slow process. The number of ships had to be seen to be believed. The place was black with them and it seemed that one could quite easily walk from one to the other as far as the eye could see.
By the following day they had made the beaches comparatively safe and ships (flat bottomed ones) could be run aground on the ebb tide and be left high and dry for the vehicles to be run straight from the ship onto the beach. This we did and while they were unloading we three MOs went for a little stroll … to stretch our legs…
When the tide came in again we floated off and anchored about a mile off shore where we eventually had about 40 casualties brought to us in the ducks. These load on shore drive down to the beach into the sea and swim out to the ships and actually come on board through the doors. After being unloaded they roll out again and swim back to the shore with a load of empty stretchers and blankets…
We stayed there that night and the following day took on about 200 more casualties then had to wait for the convoy to be formed to return to England, arriving in Southampton on Friday night…
I suppose it all sounds dangerous and exciting, in actual fact it wasn’t anything of the sort. Thrilling yes – and I’m glad I was in it and wouldn’t have missed it for the world. We saw our enemy ships, and aeroplanes, although the latter used to come out at night when they would get a hot reception; as one of the Yanks said it’s like the fourth of July…
Of the 3 beaches there’s no question at all that the Yanks had the worse job and suffered the most as a consequence. It seemed amazing that they were able to land at all and push off the beach as they had to face fairly high cliffs with guns all over the place. That’s why their move forward was delayed quite a few hours. They eventually did their job and are still continuing to do good work and incidentally letting everyone know about it. Good luck to them, they’ve actually earned it this time.
Our work finished because the medical arrangements are goin
g along fine. 200 beach hospitals are being established all over the place. Hospital planes and proper hospital ships are running…
The things that left the biggest impression was the [success] of shipping; the organisation and smoothness with which things go … as opposed to the petty restrictions of ordinary [times] and the kindness and hospitality shown to us by the crew of our ship and the keenness and coolness of the British Tommy with his joke and grin under all circumstances…
No more news.
Best love to both
Even before the first wave of troops hit the beaches on D-Day, there were already Allied troops in action in occupied France. As a prelude to the invasion, three Allied airborne divisions – the British 6th and US 82nd and 101st – were dropped over Normandy to seize key objectives and protect the flanks of the invasion beaches.
Gerald Ritchie was a company commander in the 12 (Yorkshire Battalion), Parachute Regiment, part of the British 6th Airborne Division.
Major G. Ritchie
12 Para Bn
BLA
Sunday
My own dearest sweetie,
I shall try and write you a proper letter tonight as I have a bit of time. My last few effusions have been rather poor efforts I am afraid. But we have been rather busy just lately.
It has been an extraordinary party these last few days and a very queer mixture of extreme unpleasant moments and some quite happy ones. The most touching and most gratifying thing about it all has been the extreme joy and pathetic gratitudes which the local inhabitants have heralded on arrival. I have never before been treated as these French peasants are treating us, and it is rather an amazing sensation and rather brings a lump in ones throat. Everyone without exception waves to you, flowers are thrown into the vehicles, and I remember particularly the sight of one oldish man standing up at his gate with his family waving his arms and shouting ‘merci! merci!’ At every little cottage I have stayed where the inhabitants have been there, they have produced everything of the best, wine, cider etc and given it away liberally to the troops, this appears to be the true spirit of France.
Letters from the Front: From the First World War to the Present Day Page 17