c/o Mrs Ashwin
Badsey
Oct 11th 1914
My dear Sweetheart
Mrs Ashwin has gone for her usual forty winks so I am taking this opportunity of writing to you or at any rate commencing a letter to you. I joined the home folk in their walk after service this morning. May heard from Arthur yesterday – he has very little to do at present but has one case of tetanus in which he is very interested as the man shows signs of making a complete recovery, a very rare occurrence.
He asks for your address. Last Sunday your Father asked me to write to him as he had asked for news of you, so I sent him quite a budget and gave him your address in that letter, but I suppose it had not reached him when he wrote this time.
Mary is going to stay with Kathleen the middle of this week, in order to cover things up in her flat for the winter, unless she can sublet it again. Kath wrote me quite a long letter describing Muriel and her brother both turning up at Sydenham and asking to be put up. Mrs Horsman had been away helping to get ready a house for some Belgian refugees so there was no dinner. However they managed to get a scrap meal of tinned things – much to the disgust of Mrs H. Kath’s school is in danger of being moved again as the building may be requisitioned to take the overflow from the hospital which was the original building and which is always full to overflowing.
Muriel had George’s room and her brother had yours. I believe H put them up for a couple of nights but they had all their meals out K. included so as to leave Mrs H. free to go on with scrubbing for the refugees.
We are all very sad about the Belgians being forced to evacuate Antwerp – although it was their only course if they wished to save their field army. I cannot keep thinking that perhaps we may be able to retake the town when our left wing swings up still further north as it is evidently trying to do. I wonder now if the Germans will respect the neutrality of Holland.
I saw in yesterday’s paper that Portugal is armed and prepared for war against Germany. There are not many neutral countries left for it looks as though Italy may have her finger in the pie before long.
I hope to finish your belt by the end of this week – it is rather a deep one, but I made it according to number of stitches given so think it will be all right. I’ve also finished one sock which looks better knitted than those grey ones. I can let you have some grey wool for mending them but your best plan will be to send them and others to me to be mended.
It seems much more than a fortnight ago since you were here with me. If a fortnight seems so long, what will a whole year be like. You will have forgotten what I am like by then!
Since war broke out I have great difficulty in praying that part of the Lord’s prayer which runs “forgive them us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.” I find it very hard to forgive the Germans, one cannot feel as Our Lord did with his executioners, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” They do know and they glory in the knowledge of their misdeeds.
Mrs James Ashwin told me that Dr. Martin visited a hospital at Torquay where he saw with his own eyes, the case of a British Red Cross Nurse, who had both her hands cut off, for refusing to do something the Germans asked her. They had treated her brutally as well.
One wonders that people do not bleed to death under these circumstances but I remember being told in hospital that if the blood clots then it forms a natural means of preventing further haemorrhage, and Dr. Martin also told Mrs J. Ashwin that this is what happened in the above case.
Darling – I would love to have you with me. Sunday is the hardest day of all to be without you – although you are never really absent from my thoughts. I dream of you sometimes and then am sorry when morning comes to bring me back to stern reality. Our last Sunday evening hour lives in my memory and helps me to realize that life holds great joys for those who love and are patient. Apart from the war, I always hated and hate being away from you. I am always afraid that unconsciously we may grow apart. I don’t mean that you or I will cease to care for each other but that we may, by living in different environments, lose that essential unity, which up to the present has been the most wonderful part of our engagement, for it has existed in spite of disagreements. But now you seem so far away and you are too busy to put your thoughts on paper, and I do so miss you. I know you don’t miss me as much as I do you, it is not in your nature to wish for what you cannot have.
Well I am writing gloomily so I’ll put off writing any more to this until I am in a more cheerful frame of mind.
Monday morning. I had a postcard from Barbara this morning saying she is in Folkestone but that Mother is in Boulogne and writes that she is told it is perfectly safe. Madame Harlé, our landlord’s wife, is in great sorrow, her husband was amongst the killed, and now the report has been contradicted and she does not know what to believe and is in tears all day long. Poor little woman, she has six children but I think she is provided for as her husband possessed several houses, but still nothing can make up to her for her loss.
I went over the way just now and saw Sunday night’s papers which tells how our marines (some of them) had to retire into Holland. In spite of things looking very dark your Father takes an optimistic view.
A wire has just come from Muriel to say she is coming home today, arriving Evesham 4.17.
Mr Collins Ashwin is coming to lunch today and is going to take Mrs Ashwin and me for a motor ride this afternoon. I think we are going to see the Martins.
Ethel is probably going to Folkestone for a week shortly. I think she wants to go from there to see Aunt Lizzie Sladden. Miss Pollard has asked her to stay with her for a week after that, so I am going to be home daughter while she is away and take on her duties.
Am going to the dressmaker in a few minutes for a fitting for my uniform - I hate being fitted for things – standing like a stuffed dummy while the dressmaker runs pins into you!
This is a most uninteresting letter but there is really no news. I feel rather downhearted with life in general so perhaps that is why my pen does not flow smoothly. Two or three weeks ago General French said “in 4 days we shall have them (Germans) on the run”, and they are not on the run yet. It is such a strain waiting for news which does not come.
You seem to get busier and busier from what you say in your letters. I suppose it must be expected if the new Army is to be ready by the Spring.
I thought of leaving this open until your letter comes tomorrow as it is so uninteresting as it is, but that will mean you might not hear until Thurs. morning and perhaps you would think it rather a long time to wait.
I look forward to Fridays and Tuesdays now instead of Mondays and Thursdays as your letters now reach me on the former days.
With much love, dear Heart, God have you in His Keeping.
Ever your own affect.
Mela
