comfort in that don't you think? An end to suffering for Thompson.
I do sympathise with you so Esme. I know what you mean about this beastly war. It is easy to be unpatriotic in times of despair. But remember it is the Germans who started all of this.
I wish I could be there with you Esme. To hold you in my arms for the first time and sooth your tears. Rest assured that a leave will eventually come for me. Then I will come straight to you. I promise.
Still no word about my poor mother. I wrote a letter to the hospital where she is but there has been no reply as yet.
Please write to me soon Esme. Remember Dulcie for the beautiful, clever girl that she was and be assured that she will live on in your heart. I believe that she too is at peace.
All my love and thoughts,
Jimmy
X
M.O.D Approved. Home Office Approved. This letter has been censored in accordance with War Office Directive 728/4c. All content of a sensitive nature has been removed by order of the Ministry of War.
Remember - CARELESS TALK COSTS LIVES!
Miss E. Wilbraham
41 Whitefriars Drive
Harrow Weald
Greater London
(Defence Zone F)
HA3 5HW
Wednesday 11th July 1962
Dear Jimmy,
Thank you for your letter and kind wishes. My world seems so different now without dear Dulcie here to brighten it. Like you say in your letter everything is so very dark. I don't even notice the sun and blue of summer.
Mother doesn't speak much and I hear her crying in the night. There is something so very heart wrenching about hearing her sobs, it pulls at my very soul and forces unwanted tears from my eyes too. I don't know what to do for her; it all makes me feel so inadequate.
I am sorry for your losses too Jimmy. I feel for that poor boy Thompson and wonder about his family. They too must feel the agonising ache that is mourning now, just as I feel it in my family. Please know that despite my despair, and the darkness that surrounds us, I still have feelings for you. Those feelings are part of me now, part of my soul, and I could not release them even if I tried. But this makes it seem so much more difficult. I am not sure I could bear more loss. I do not know what I would do if something were to happen to you Jimmy. So now my fear of your letters no longer coming is greater. I wish I could actually see you and spend time with you.
My days seem to tick by in a slow daze dear Jimmy; it is as if nothing is real anymore except the pain of our existence. The hall clock ticks so slowly, the only sound in our silent house.
Every Sunday since, we visit the graveyard. There is no grave for Dulcie or any graves for her friends. Merely a hastily carved wooden plaque with a silver metal cross screwed into its surface. It has all their names upon it; I have traced my fingers over all their names, listed as an alphabet of loss, Dulcie the last at the bottom. The plaque seems ordinary, in amongst all the other plaques and crosses for the lost on the wall of remembrance. As if it is nothing special.
We place flowers and dab tears from our eyes with our hankies. I don't know if this makes us feel better or not. I find it remarkable that, as a nation, we have faced so much death for the last two or three generations and yet we are still so ill equipped to deal with it. We have a casually strange relationship with it. We know it is an ever present threat and it affects all of us. Every single one of us without fail. We see it around us in everybody's eyes and yet it remains something we fear to speak of. We do not know how we are supposed to feel or behave. I do not know how to feel or behave
Aunt Mathilda does her best to jolly us along, to keep living, what else is there to do after all? But even she sometimes has that distant look in her eyes. The look of loss.
She takes me to one side and speaks in hushed tones now and again. Usually when mother goes to bed early, as she often does these days. Mathilda and I wait as she climbs the stairs, her shoulders hunched, retiring well before the summer sun has set. I don't think that she sleeps much. Heavy dark circles surround her eyes and she looks so much older than before.
Mathilda tells me of the women's movement. Of the ideas they have about this vicious war. I am not sure I should talk of it in a letter to you, but I will be frank. I have come to the conclusion that this war is wrong and it should stop. I do not care if this is unpatriotic or the censors see that I have such feelings. This war is CENSORED CENSORED and the Government should CENSORED go to CENSORED. Mathilda is right about these things. There is a lot going on here that I did not know about. There are plans afoot that I cannot speak of and I have surprised myself to realise that there is hope Jimmy. Despite all the horror that befalls us, have trust Jimmy, that there is actually hope. I can scarcely bring myself to believe it.
It is true that other people around the world live lives that are happy and fulfilled, despite what the papers might say. You only have to see an American film to see that they live in peace, that they have colourful lives of plenty. Families together; fathers and mothers who see their sons and daughters grow and thrive. Is it really so unpatriotic to believe that we should have the same improvements to our situation? I sincerely do not think so.
It is so sad that it took Dulcie's death for me to realise the real truth about our situation Jimmy. Mathilda says that your mother knew this and thought the war to be wrong and that is why they took her away. I do not believe there is anything wrong with her; they simply wanted to silence her. I did not realise that Mathilda was such close friends with your mother. She did not speak of it because my mother disapproved. It isn't that mother actually disagrees with anti-war sentiment, but she simply wanted to protect Dulcie and I. Keep us safe. But I am no longer a child, I can make my own mind up about things.
So we have made a pact, Mathilda and I. We are to travel north and seek your mother as soon as we can get the time and as soon as Mathilda can borrow a car. I hope you do not mind us visiting her Jimmy. But Mathilda says that we should know the truth of what she did and what she knows. And, who knows Jimmy; perhaps we could free her from that place and bring her home with us. Wouldn't that be a marvellous thing Jimmy? God knows there doesn't seem to be much that is marvellous at the moment. So we have to cling to anything we can find.
I still go to work every day. I have no choice. There was no option when Dulcie died. Some of the girls rallied around and tried to be most comforting, even Sally came and said sorry and gave me a hug. Not that we are exactly friends again. But I just had to carry on working. Jenkins said he felt for my loss but the war effort must continue and that my 'important work' will go to making sure that we get revenge on the Hun. And he said that if I needed 'comforting' all I needed to do was ask. He patted my bottom and winked at me as he said it. He truly is a disgusting man and I really didn't know what to say to him. I wanted to swear at him and slap his smug face but didn't. We need my pay packet.families'
One would think that having lost my sister that vengeance would be my strongest desire. But, I have to say, that this is far from the case. Now all I can think of as all the munitions roll off the end of the great production line is the consequences. Every shell that I help to make will strip more mothers of their sons. I don't care if they are German mothers. I don't wish anything I do to be the cause of the kind of pain I feel in anyone else. This does not make me a bad person. A pacifist perhaps, but not a bad person. I love my country but I no longer love what it is doing. What it is doing on my behalf. So it is reasonable to say that I now hate my job but continue with its draining drudgery because mother and I need the money. Of course I keep my opinions to myself in public.
I hope that you do not think badly of me Jimmy because of the opinions that I express. I truly hope you understand.
Please write soon and tell me what you think.
Love
Esme
X
M.O.D Approved. Home Office Approved. This letter has been censored in accordance with War Office Directive 728/4c. All content of a sensitive nat
ure has been removed by order of the Ministry of War.
Remember - CARELESS TALK COSTS LIVES!
Miss E. Wilbraham
41 Whitefriars Drive
Harrow Weald
Greater London
(Defence Zone F)
HA3 5HW
Tuesday 7th August 1962
Dearest Jimmy,
I do so hope you are safe and well. It must be nearly a month since I last wrote to you and I have not had a letter from you since June. I now know how you must have felt when I didn't write to you. Please let it be that nothing terrible has befallen you? I honestly do not think I could bare it. Like you did before when I didn't write I simply beseech you to let me know that you are alive?
I think of you so much. Please, please write soon Jimmy.
Much Love,
Esme
Xx
Madame F. Moreau
46 Rue de Rosamel
ÉTAPLES
62630 FRANCE
15th August 1962
Dearest E----,
Please rest your weary heart. I am alive, although whether we could describe me as well is another matter. I am safe, for now, though wounded.
First I must explain about this letter. You will see that this is not a censored letter. It comes to you via a clandestine underground network that I have discovered. It is of utmost importance that you keep this letter secret. Several, probably hundreds, of people risk themselves to provide this network. H---- told me about it; he confided in me recently. He says