Menu Home Index Page 1929-32 1933-35 1936-38 1939-41 1942-44

The Townend Family Letters

Correspondence from the 1930s - 1940s between members of the Townend family
HPV + LJT Letters 1939 to 1941

1940 November

From HPV to Romey

Nov 2nd, 1940

My dear Rosemary,

In a country where one knows not a word of the language, one feels like a ghost. And time passes without one’s knowing it. We have been here for nearly two weeks, I suppose, but several times I have lost count of the date and of the day of the week. It is strange having no work to do. We are called at 6:30, breakfast an hour later and spend the morning, as a rule, sitting about. Breakfast comprises a multitude of things; on the table are platters of ham, of sausages, of different kinds of cheese, of ginger cake and there is butter and there is jam. All these, including the cake, are spread by the eater in between buttered bread. It is possible to eat a lot, the drink is coffee.
There is in this place one Java boy who used to be a steward on a ship, and he therefore, keeps the curious habits of the English: he has told the landlady that the English insist on eggs and bacon for breakfast and therefore eggs and bacon are provided for us two each morning, as well as the spread above mentioned. Dutch food is probably very healthy, it is mixed, contains a lot of vegetables of different kinds and does not neglect the vitaminous portions of animals such as liver, which are nonetheless healthy because I do not like them.
After lunch, all sleep and need it, having been up since 5:30 or 6 for the most part and having also had a big lunch. Then the tea at 4 or so serves as a refresher. They do much sitting. ----But of course, this is a holiday place and these are the holidays; it does not follow that in all places they sit and contemplate life quite so often or for so long at a stretch. To compensate for my having no work, I have started learning to type. Brother Harry gave me a book on it. “Touch-Typing” . I have put in quite a lot of time on it these last few days. How infuriating it is that the fingers, and particularly the third fingers, are so perverse and so insistent upon hitting keys wrongly at the wrong time! Progress is slow. It might be quicker if the typewriter were not defective. Till I have learnt to type properly, without looking at the keys, I cannot use the typewriter for letters, because I should have to look at them and so undo all that I have been learning.
We have been going on short walks each evening on the skirts of the hills. Volcanic country; it is amazing how many ridges and valleys have tucked themselves into a comparatively small space. There is no map other than a rough sketch map in a Dutch guide book and so the walks have all the excitement of exploration. Beautiful country. It is annoying that Java should be so far in advance of India in prosperity; probably the Dutch have not been prepared to stand any nuisance as we have done in India and also the Javanese have not hampered themselves with unnumbered social customs which are obstacles to progress. Everyone seems cheerful and prosperous, though the beggars are many in this place. Your mother had looked forward to visiting a volcano with the easily remembered name of ‘Bromo’, but it would have involved a day of 8 hours on ponies with a lot of steep up and down work and I have been compelled to recognize that for me it is quite impossible. I tire even after our walks of 1 1/2 or 2 hours and a morning’s trip to Malang with a bus journey of half an hour or so each way left me quite limp. Anyhow your mother has renounced the Bromo project.

Much love,
Dad

From LJT to Romey

Huize Miranda
Batoe, Malang, Java
Nov 8th, 1940

My Darling Romey,

It is tiresome that one can only send such a tiny little weight by the Airmail from Java. One-twentieth of an ounce, not one eighth, as I originally thought, only allows two thin sheets. I hope in New Zealand we shall go back to the ½ oz again. We are living here so quietly that there is not a very great deal to write about, and we have no letters to answer. I expect you thought it too risky to write here, and I hope for a great feast of letters when we get to New Zealand. I have been very busy all this week writing Christmas mail to go by sea.
The last few days I have been reading that book I told you of “Mine Inheritance”. I found it depressing in some ways, for those first settlers at Red River had such a devil of a hard time. How strange it would seem to them if they could see the Winnipeg that you know. I may send the book to you from here, if the rate is not too expensive, but more probably I will send it from New Zealand.
Dad has been working hard to teach himself touch-typing, and he has made wonderful progress. I begin to feel rather jealous, and wish I had had the concentration to learn that way myself. He asked last night whether you do touch typing. I said I thought not. “Then”, said he “I must write and revile her.” The unhurried life here is doing him good, and the past few days we have done some respectably long walks. The trouble in the tropics, even when one is in a place at sufficient altitude to be fairly cool, is that the sun still has its tropical heat, and that the evenings are so short, and the contrast in temperature so great, when the sun sinks. If one tries strenuous walking while the sun is high in the heavens, one gets very hot, and if one waits till it has almost gone, one has no time left! Just as you are thought odd in Winnipeg for walking for no other reason than to take exercise, I think we must be considered a little peculiar here, for the Dutch holiday-makers do a good deal of strolling about but little real walking. This probably explains why people in the villages (kampongs) three or four miles off the main road, seem surprised when they see us marching through. They are friendly folk, and want to talk, so it is sad that when we are alone we have to shake our heads. I could not endure to stay long in a country where I could not speak the language. That sounds as if I meant I would leave the country, but what I really mean is that I would do my best to learn.
Dad found a copy of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ in the bookshelves here, and has been reading it. He was greatly amused at the description of the conversation that Robinson Crusoe carried on by signs with Man Friday, in which Friday told him that in his village they would not dream of eating any but their enemies, and they only when they were very hungry. Now, if we have been a walk alone, when we come in we tell Mary Ow all sorts of things of which we have informed the natives by signs. (Quite untruly, I fear!) but it makes us all laugh. It was with some pleasure that Dad found an account in another book of how Christopher Columbus conversed with the Natives by signs, discussing with them the question of sin and redemption. It would be interesting to know what the natives thought the conversation was about! As another thing to make Mary laugh, we occasionally take some Dutch word that catches our fancy, and pronounced it in a purely English fashion. “Paticulare Weg” (private road) is our favourite, and Dad is always fearing that ways I point out on the map will turn out to be “paticulare wegs”. Another word we have adopted, but with its correct pronunciation, is “futzel” which means “food”. There are little Javanese eating shops everywhere, as well as itinerant venders of food, whose little portable shops are carried on a yoke over their shoulders, and turn out to be very complete restaurants. The foods they sell are much more inviting than anything one sees in India. It is difficult to think of you, living in intense cold. I wonder how you will like it.

Best of love to Cousin Susie, Helen and John and lots to yourself, Mother

From LJT to Annette

Huize “Miranda”. Batoe. Malang
E. Java.
Nov 10th 1940.

My darling Annette,

Whether this will reach you by Christmas I dont know, but I hope so. Wishes and instructions about presents having gone by air-mail, you will not have been entirely neglected, even if this is late. I hope you will be home for Christmas, and Dickey too. It is rather amusing to think of us in mid-summer weather, Rosemary in conditions approximating to the arctic, while presumably in England you will be medium cold. Dad’s letter to you and Richard was intended to go in the Air-Mail envelope, but as he wrote it on the wrong paper, it made the letter 6 gramms instead of 5, and I put a letter to Aunt in instead.

Dad has been reading French the last few days, and asking Mary about all sorts of things. I envy her her many languages but I am not sure that I altogether envy her such a cosmopolitan heritage in the way of family and up-bringing, for it means that there is no corner of the world of which one can feel that it is ones true home. She is always coming out with amusing things. We were talking about a Russian lady in Calcutta, and Mary murmured to herself, “Il y a des Slavs qui se lavent, et des Slavs qui ne se lavent pas. Mother and I always thought she belonged to the second class”. Again when we passed a very very fat man, she recited the following engaging rhyme:-
“A Rouen est un maitre d’hotel. Hors du centre du ventre duquel
Se projette une sort De tiroir qui supporte
La moutarde, et le poivre et le sel” (Read the lines straight across the page. I did them like that to save space.)

My only claim to virtue during the last two weeks is that I have written quantities of letters to friends and relations to take them our Christmas greetings and tell them of our doings. Dad and Mary have been busy over “touch typing”. Dad is almost ready to begin writing letters now, so I hope that his enthusiasm will be so great that he will catch up with some of the letters he has not written during the past ten years. The young Dutch school-master here speaks such charming English that it seems a shame to correct him. He says things like this “T dwell comfortably one must have many chambers” He has really a big vocabulary, but much of it has been learnt from the English classics, and it shows in his talk. He is living here with his mother-in-law and year-old daughter, to be near his wife, who has T.B. and is in a Sanotorium about a mile from here. I went to see her the other day with him, and found her very charming. She was a good athelete, played hockey for the best club in Amsterdam, played in many tennis tournaments, and was a keen climber, spending all the holidays she could in the mountains in Austria. She seemed ill after this baby was born. They were at a place calle Djokjakarta in the part of Java which is still ruled by the Sultan. The doctor did not spot what was wrong with her, till the wretched disease had got quite a hold. The husband got a transfer to a school in the town of Malang, and is living here to be near his wife. The doctors say that she must stay six months in the Sanotorium, and then another six months living very carefully at home in the mountain air, and by that time they promise a cure. Luckily they had been anxious about her widowed mother when war broke out, and begged her to come out here which she did in December, so she is here to care for the baby (a pet of a thing, whom Dad is teaching to make dreadful faces) and to be with her daughter. The young husband is such a good looking young man, and he is wonderful the way he remains cheerful, does not grumble, looks after his baby and goes daily to sit with his wife, leading what many young men (I think he is 27) would find a deplorably dull life. He and his mother-in-law are moving into a house in December, and he has given us his address, saying that if we have to spend a little time in Java on our return journey, he hopes we will come to stay with them, for they will have “spare chambers”.

I am not sure that our co-inhabitans of this Pension dont think us distinctly odd for spending so much time writing letters and banging typewriters. They dont seem to have the writing habit. I have appalled the local post office by buying up their entire stock of 15 cent stamps, the value that goes on to foreign ship-mail letters. Mary tells me that the authorities have had to take to printing the 10 cent inland postage stamp in a dye that is not fast, for the Chinamen discovered a chemical by which they could remove the post-mark without destroying the stamp, and then use it again! Now the red dye runs! I hope you are not finding living in lodgings too trying in this winter weather. Happy Christmas – and best love from Mother


(on a slip of paper, undated and with no address at top – not in Aunt’s handwriting ‘Seen by Dicky’)

Please send this little note to Richard and Annette.

Beloved children! The meagre weight I can send by air forbids proper letters without extra expenditure, so this tiny note is to carry you Dad’s and my best love. We talk much of you. Mary Ow might easily be getting bored with the sound of your names, but she seems interested in you both. Dad continues to have good success with his ridiculous way of taking a foreign word, giving it a pure English pronounciation, and mis-useing it. Dutch is a good language for this. One of our favourites in “paticulare weg” for private road. The fear of finding outselves on “paticulare wegs” adds excitement to our walks. I wonder how all this talk of idling time away as we are doing reads to you, in the press of your own work for the war. Be assured that its far from being what I would desire. Bless you both and our love to you Mother


Family letter from LJT

Huize Miranda
Botoe
Malang. E. Java.
Nov. 10th 1940

My Dears,

The appearance of this lovely smiling country is deceptive. Looking about one, one can scarcely believe in the possibility of war in the world, but when one begins talking to the Dutch people here, it soon becomes apparent. Few but have some relative in Holland from whom they can get little or no news. A nice woman with whom we have made rather friends here, has a daughter who teaches in a big Kindergarten school at the Hague. She had had a cable saying “all is well”, but that after all means little in a country under the Nazi regime. A few days ago she got a letter through relatives who were in Roumania, then a neutral country, and she was simply over-joyed to get a letter in her daughter’s own hand writing, and containing news as satisfactory as she could possibly hope for. The tension about Japan is very closely present here, too. I hope the fear of America will keep the Japs from open aggression. Mary faithfully translates the news which comes over the wireless, and goes through the Dutch paper for our benefit in the evenings. Herbert has persuaded her to follow his method of direct word for word translation, and it makes a good deal of fun, for the Dutch constructions are very different from the English. As no letters have come from England or from Canada, I dont suppose any will do so now. I scarcely expected them, and was quite prepared to wait for news from home, till we reach new Zealand, though I am beginning to have that rather cut off feeling that I had when the Air Mails to Europe stopped, and we had such a long gap before we got letters.

There has been little change in our mode of life here. We are getting to know the surrounding hills better, and have been able to do some rather more ambitious walks. To begin with we had to be careful, for the Hills are so deceptive. One thinks one can follow a certain route, only to find the way cut by a deep ravine filled with thick jungle, and necessitating a detour of several miles. Herbert is stronger, too, so that I have not quite the same fear of his getting over-tired that I had when first we came. The Rains have still not broken, though we did have one sharp shower the afternoon before last. Its sad for the country, but nice for us. We had been planning to leave here a few days before we have to be back in Sourabaya, and visit another higher hill station on a different group of mountains, from which it is possible to make an ascent to a famous old volcanic crater some miles in extent, in which three or four more recent vents have opened up, one of which is still active. This active volcano goes by the charming name “Bromo”. A nice young school master who is living in this Pension, has been to the Bromo, and was able to give us all the details. When Herbert and Mary heard that it means a day out of 8 or 9 hours, riding on ponies, getting up at 4 am and being exposed to considerable cold, they did not think they could face it - I think they are right, and though I confess I would have liked to make the trip, I completely agree that it would be foolish to attempt it, especially as the monsoon clouds are hanging round, and we might spend all the extra money and trouble going up there, only to find our morning pouring wet and everything shrouded in mist. Another consideration is that it is the autumn school holiday season now, and every holiday resort is packed, so it is unlikely that we should have been able to get rooms. Our plan is therefore, to stay quietly here till the 18th, and then go to Sourabaya to wait for our boat. The other place which we might have gone to see is a famous Buddist relic - - a great stupa called the Borobadur. It is not many hours journey from Sourabaya, but it is on the plains, and therefore pretty hot, especially just now, and since it is such a famous place, the prices at the local hotel and the cost of everything near about is very high. Mary Ow brought some books with fine pictures of it, and I studied some before I left India. I have been interested to see these and hear about it, but regret not seeing it far less than not visiting the Bromo. It is very similar to Buddist remains in India. A visit to Bali we had ruled out from the beginning on account of expense, and Herbert added that he did not want to go to a country where the ladies do not wear bust-bodices. I feel we are getting a very pleasant and probably truer impression of Java and of the life here, living quietly in this little Pension, and walking about the surrounding country, than we should if we were rushing about to the famous spots and staying a night or two here and a night or two there in the big hotels. There are several Dutch people here who speak English, and from them we are able to learn something of the life here. The School-Master I mentioned before is keenly interested in the customs of this country, and anxious to compare with “British India”, as we have to learn to call India, for to Dutch people, this is ”India”. Edward Groth’s friends, who were so friendly to us, also told us, or rather M’heer Pillis told Herbert a good deal about trading conditions and development in these islands. From the little lady who runs this Pension, who is “of the country” we hear tales of the doings of the servants and their superstitions. One of the maids (called babus, here) has gone away to have a baby. Our little hostess gave her a good many of her own old baby clothes, and some money to help over the period during which she has to be away from work. The little Javanese woman was so pleased that she said out of gratitude and respect she intended to have her baby in the European fashion. In reply to the enquiry as to what she meant by this, she said she would tell the mid-wife that directly the baby was born it must be smacked hard on the seat to drive out the devils in the European fashion. - - - so now we know why babies get a smack when they are born. The neighbouring plot of ground is up for sale for building, but is charmingly empty. The story is that two certain trees on it are favourite haunts for ghosts, and therefore no one will buy the land and build on it. The house servants here beg scraps of food now and again and arrange them under the trees to please the ghosts, for its always just as well to be on good terms with them. Nearly every day we hear a story of some sort. They display a delightful catholicity of belief, some of which might perhaps not have been too pleasing to the Prophet. There are a great many Chinese here. Every little town seems to have some shops run by Chinamen, and a Chinese carpenter or two. There are two or three excellent stores in Batoe run by Chinese who have remarkable stocks, and speak good English. Mr. Ringrose, the school-master, says he finds his Chinese pupils extremely intelligent. The flowering trees are a great delight here. Mostly they are the same as those we have in India, but they seem to grow to much greater perfection here, and every little garden has its clumps of gorgeous bourgainvillias, purple, scarlet, pink and crimson. The oleanders flower in a way I have never seen before. The trees are so covered with blossom that the leaves are scarcely visible. Every house has its garden and every garden is full of plants. Many lovely things grow here which will not endure the great heat of India, or the frosts of England. I see plants from Africa (Gerbera Jamsonia) and other things from Australia. Agapanthus lilies seem specially happy here and the lovely white Eucharis lily. In neighbouring villages flowers are grown on the market garden principle, and sent to Malang and to Sourabaya. I see fields of carnations, roses, chrysanthemums and so on. Most of the mountains round here seem to be dead volcanos, but the one to the north of us, Arjoeno, has a vent in the side of its crater from which clouds of white smoke pour out. It is sulpherous stuff, we are told, and the mountainside round about it is white, and looks almost as if it were covered with snow. This is from far away. I dont know what it looks like close to. In our walks lately we have gone through much country which belongs to the state forests. They are doing a great deal in the way of clearing and replanting. In places it seems to us, (from knowledge based on what we learnt at the time of the Forest Committee) that they are clearing too much at a time, and running a risk of severe erosion before the new trees have had time to take hold. I wish we could meet a forest man and hear something of what their system is. They seem to have planted large areas with a sort of mimosa, and we are interested to find out its special uses and virtues. There are huge numbers of birds, some like the Indian varieties, and some strange to us. Again, I would like to learn something about them.

I see the paper is almost running out, so I must finish. Herbert is attaining some proficiency at touch typing and has been working hard at it. He, and I too, are getting very sunburnt. Mary Ow is looking much better that she was when we came. A number of things that had been worrying her considerably, all settled themselves just about the time we arrived, and with an easier mind, she is able to relax, and enjoy herself with us. Best love to you all
LJT


Family letter from LJT

Huize Miranda. Batoe. Malang.
E. Java
Nov 15th 1940.

My Dears,

My intention is to write most of this letter here in Batoe, for, if our boat leaves punctually, there will not be much time left for letter-writing in Sourabaya. Life has been flowing along so peacefully here, in spite of the unrest in the word round about, that it will seem odd to dig ourselves up, and move on to other places. The right time has come for a move though, I think. We have pretty well explored and linked up all the paths and tracks within easy walking distance. Herbert’s store of literature is running rather low. Oweing to the holiday season, this little pension has become rather over-full, and the food is not so good as it was, and has become rather “samey”; last of all, I believe that Herbert is a great deal better, and oweing to somewhat increased energy, he is likely to get bored with the life here, and need more to do and more people to talk to. Also we had some heavy rain the afternoon before last, which probably means that the real monsoon will be here soon, when life amongst these mountains would not be half so attractive.

We were all greatly excited and delighted at the news of the Air attack on Tarento yesterday. Mary’s reading of the Dutch newspaper in free translation, has become quite a feature of our daily routine here. Some delightful things come out occasionally, as when last night she said “The Greeks claim a squashing victory”. The adjective is not usual, but certainly effective. There seems to be infinite pleasure on all hands at any reverse suffered by the Italians, for I think everyone feels that in every respect they have behaved in such a shabby way. From the Dutch news it seems that the air raids on England, and especially on London have been both less heavy and less successful lately. I hope this impression we get is a true one.

The weather remaining delightfully fine, we have been able to increase the range of our walks, and have had some splendid long tramps over the mountains. Mary gave her ankle a slight twist about a week ago, a thing she says she often does, and then she simply rests the ankle for a few days. This really enabled us to cover much more ground, for though a fairly fast walker uphill, she is very slow downhill, and also not I think in the habit of walks of great length. We perhaps rather lost our heads a couple of evenings ago, and taking a bus a couple of miles to the col in the mountains above us, we did a big circuit, much bigger than we had anticipated it would be as a matter of fact. We came home the last mile or two by moonlight. While we were walking Herbert seemed in fine form, but as the evening wore on one could see that he was tired, and he was still a bit tired the next day. It is a healthy sort of fatigue, and he has quickly recovered and is none the worse, but it has made me feel that we ought not to attempt the circuit of a certain conical hill, outlier of the volcano Panderman, the geography of which intrigues us much. We have been up so far on either side, and each time have turned back, fearing that we could not get round before dark, and that we might be cut off by a ravine. Its a pity, but I do not want him to overdo it. We are a mile or so above the village here, and we went down yesterday morning to get some shoes of Herbert’s stitched, buy stamps, and chocolate, and generally fulfil a regular holiday shopping outing. While a Chinaman was stitching the shoes, we took a walk round, and had a good look at the local shops, many of them kept by Chinese, and at the market, where the goods are set out much more attractively than in Indian markets. The large stock kept by the Chinese in their shops is surprising, and many of the men speak good English. What an astonishingly enterprising and intelligent people they are! If only they could learn to get together as a nation, and grow a real sense of public spirit, surely a horrid little race like the Japs could never conquer them.

Herbert’s self training in type-writing has been going on well. He can do the exercises and the alphabet both backwards and forwards without mistakes now, and will soon embark on writing letters. We have had a practice blackout here the last three nights, and with very dim light in most of the rooms, the touch-typing was a great standby.
16.11.40. I dont remember what interrupted me yesterday. We had quite an exciting afternoon. We had discovered a path the previous day, which we thought might be a short cut to our circuit of the conical hill I mentioned earlier in this letter, and as Herbert seemed well rested yesterday, we asked to have some glasses of orange squash brought to our room after lunch, so that we could drink them instead of waiting for tea, and set out on our walk at 3:30. Mary did not come, as she thought she might not be able to manage it. The path turned out to be the key to everything and all the geography fell into place. We found ourselves on the col between the conical hill and the volcano, Panderman, much sooner than we had expected, and as we were enjoying the view in various directions, and putting the bits of our jig-saw puzzle into place, so to speak, we saw that the clouds which had been hanging about when we left home, had massed and become threatening, and in a few minutes the rain was coming down in torrents. I had a large umbrella with me but Herbert had not. Our cotton clothes could not be harmed, nor Herbert’s little wool pullover, which he put on, so we did not attempt to shelter in the little village just below us, but hurried home down the slithery hill-side. It was the wisest thing to do for we had got very hot climbing the hill. Since it was so warm, we found the whole thing rather fun, but the people in the pension, especially Mary, were greatly concerned about us. However we are none the worse this morning. In fact we felt so energetic that we have been out for a lovely walk to a fine waterfall this morning, for fear that it may be wet again this afternoon. Everything was fresh and lovely after the rain. We caught a bus at 8.30 which took us up the main road to the summit col of this group or range. From there we had a two hours walk, mostly through forest, going to the waterfall one way and coming back to the main road by another. It was really beautiful. This will probably be our last good walk, for we leave here early on Monday morning, and I have promised to go to see a Scotchwoman, who is in the T.B. Sanitarium here, to-morrow morning, and I’ll probably be packing in the evening.

This will be the letter to carry our Christmas greetings and good wishes to all of you. Somehow we shall manage to drink to “Absent Friends” and we shall think of you all on Christmas Day, and of Romey and John in Canada and Harry and Winsome in Calcutta. I have written individual letters and sent small gifts to most of the family, and posted them by sea-mail, so I do not know when they will arrive. I hope they will be in time.

Nov 22nd Oranje Hotel. Sourabaya. We came down here according to plan on the 18th, though we heard from the shipping company on Sunday 17th that our boat would be delayed anyway till the 22nd. Our rooms in the Miranda were booked, and every place was full, for it is the holiday season. It was as well we did come, for on going to the shipping office that afternoon, we were told that the boat would probably be delayed ten days. It is fouly hot and damp in Sourabaya, and the prospect of having to waste precious days in an expensive hotel, in a place as hot as Calcutta, and yet badly equipped with fans, and where there is not much to see or do, was not at all agreable. We asked if there happened to be an Australian boat going earlier on to which we could transfer, and fortunately there is, and we shall soon be away on her. It is a shorter voyage than the New Zealand route, which wanders about to all sorts of islands, so though we intend to spend a week or so in Sydney before taking ship on to New Zealand, we shall still arrive in Wellington about the time we originally expected. The boat to Australia is much larger than that on which we were booked for New Zealand, and she is said to be a beautiful boat, and she has a swimming bath, which I don’t suppose the little one would have had. These few days down in the heat has rather taken off the good effects of the mountain air on Herbert. Even I find the climate here trying, and cant understand why a people as prosperous as the Dutch here apparently are, don’t mitigate the damp heat with plenty of fans. There are good trams on which we have taken rides through the town, for the 1st class compartments are used almost entirely by Europeans. We have walked by the river, visited a small, only partly made, but rather charming little zoo, - spent an evening with our hotel friends, Mr and Mrs Pillis, and Mary and I have visited the Market. Best love to you all. LJT

From LJT and HPV to Romey

November 17th, Batoe, Malang, E. Java

My darling Romey,

I must say “Many Happy Returns of the Day”, though your birthday will be so long past by the time you get this. Seventeen seems to me an ‘emerging’ age. At sixteen you are still a school girl, by ordinary standards, though in your case you have already passed on to University life. At seventeen you are a young woman, and supposed to be ready to grapple with life to some extent. This visit to Canada and making your own niche in a new world should be valuable training for the future grappling process. I don’t think I can offer you better advice than to do your grappling by facing problems or the necessity for action as soon as possible, without being precipitate. It s generally wise to take a night or so to think over a decision, though one should be prepared to act immediately when necessary. I think some of the most tiresome people in the world are the ones who cannot make up their minds, and rush from one person to another trying to get their minds made up for them. That is a different thing from getting advice from several quarters, conning it over, and them acting according to what your own intelligence makes of it. This all sounds rather serious, but I daresay you had some fun of some sort on your birthday. It is rather nice that being a Sunday, you won’t have to be at College.
This letter will have to take you our Christmas wishes and greetings, for the first one I can post from New Zealand will inevitably be too late, I hope you and John have a happy time, I am sure Cousin Susie and Helen will arrange some happiness for you. Have I spoken about Christmas presents before? I don’t think I have. The affair is difficult, for I can’t send you extra money, and I fear to try to send other things, for the duty might be more than the thing is worth to you. Will you therefore get yourself something that is a pure treat -- something that you would not buy if it were not in the nature of a present?

Best love again,
Mother and Dad


Family letter from LJT

At Sea.  Two days out from Sourabaya.

November 27th, 1940

My Dears,

It was a great relief to get away from Sourabaya on the 24th, for it was hot and uncomfortable there, and there was nothing to do.  Its hot even at sea.  The sea is of an oily smoothness (for which all thanks be) but we can create our own breeze as we go, and everywhere there are blowers.  We came on board on Sunday morning, though the ship did not sail till 4 o’clock in the afternoon, for we thought it would be nice to be through the customs and settled on board, before the afternoon heat, which is always the worst, to my mind.  Mary drove down to the customs house with us.  It was sad saying goodbye to her. Somehow, although she likes Dutch people so much, she does not seem to have any intimate friends in Java.  She has plenty of kindly acquaintances, but that is not the same thing.  She now returns to Batavia.  As we went on board I noticed amongst the half dozen names on the Chief Steward’s list, a Mrs Pattinson.  At once I thought of Teresa.  Herbert did not think it was likely to be her, for he met her in 1937 when she was moving into a flat in London.  However by the purser’s office, just after tea, I saw a stout figure which I immediately recognised, though the poor woman is now sadly bowed with rheumatism.  You can imagine what talks we have had!  She is leaving Bali with great regret because of the difficulty of moving money about to foreign countries in these days.  She is full of fun and talk in spite of the stiffness which makes her hobble with a stick, which means stairs are a trial to her.  The purser and the Chief Steward are old friends of hers.  She has travelled so much on the Java-Australian run, that she knows many of the personnel of this line, though she does not know this boat, which was built for one of the Holland-Africa services.  We have done well to come on her.  She is a most comfortable vessel, almost as good as the Klipfontein.  Practically all the 1st class cabins have bathrooms, and they are as big as the cabins de luxe on the P&O boats.  All the fittings are so good and so well thought out.  The dress-table also is an excellent writing table.  I am typing at it now.  Most of the passengers are either people going on leave from Singapore or getting away from China.  There dont seem to be any Australians on board.  They seem a pleasant crowd.  I have not talked to a great many of them yet, as Teresa and I have had so much to talk about.  She has had no letters from home for ages.  I do wish we had known she was in Bali, for it might have been possible for us to go to Bali straight away after our arrival.  She says she had a wonderful birthday party on the 25th October, with Balinese Dances and a play, and she would have loved us to have been there.  I am interested to hear about the Balinese, and their dances and the form of Hinduism that has survived amongst them.  Bali looks a lovely island from the sea.  We stopped early in the morning at the little port on the north side of the Island.  The ship cannot go into a jetty, but boats come out.  Teresa would normally have come that way, but for some reason it was announced that passengers would not be taken on there, so she flew to Sourabaya, leaving the bulk of her luggage to be taken on in Bali.

We left Sourabaya about 5 p.m. actually, and, until yesterday evening, we have been passing beautiful islands.  We passed the extreme end of Timor just at dusk last night, I think, and now we have a couple of days with nothing to see (or so Teresa tells me) till we are through the Torres Straight.  Later we go down the Great Barrier Reef, which is said to be most beautiful.  Teresa is getting off at Brisbane, where she intends to live for the time being.  She hopes to have a flat by the time we return, and wants us to pay her a visit if we can.  I hope it will be possible to arrange it.  In Sydney we hope to see our friends Mr and Mrs Tonge, the padre-schoolmaster and his wife whom we met in the south of France in 1931, and liked so much.  We have kept in touch with them ever since.  This boat does not go on to N.Z., so we shall probably spend a week or ten days in Sydney, and then get a boat across to Wellington.

The islands past which we have been wandering the last few days are all volcanic.  The hills rise up from the edge of the sea, rising in many cases to 6,000 ft or 7,000 ft.  They are thickly wooded, and one cannot see houses or villages on them, though I think all the larger ones are inhabited.  When the sun is high in the sky, the light is too bright to see the detail at all clearly, but as the evening comes on, one can see how range rises behind range, and the deep gullys that the rivers have cut for themselves.  The shadows seem to be especially rich blues and purples, and the colour effects, as the sunset warms up to brilliant pinks and reds, is fine.  I am looking forward to seeing the first coral islands.

During the stay in Sourabaya, we found it difficult to discover things to do in the evenings.  We electrified the Information Bureau by asking if there were any places where we could walk.  They had never heard of such a plan, and firmly said there were none.  The first evening we went down to the shipping office and the bank, and in the evening we went to see the Mr And Mrs Pillis who had been staying at the “Miranda” with us, and spent a pleasant hour or more having drinks and talking with them.  M’frau Pillis showed Mary and myself all over their little bungalow, even to the kitchen and store room.  It seems that the Dutch, on the whole, live in a much smaller style than is the custom in India.  They go in for these very small bungalows which do not look like houses built for a hot country, but give the impression of a new holiday bungalow town in England.  They do not have nearly as many servants, for the Malays, wisely, have no caste, so that the same Boy (called Jongu) who waits at the table, can also sweep the floor and dust the rooms.  The washing, cooking, and bedroom house-work is done by women, who are called Babus, which seems odd to our ears.  One of the greatest contrasts with British India is that all these fair Dutch go about all through the day without hats.  The only people in Java who wear topis are the Chinamen, and some of the dark half-casts.  The Dutch on the whole are extraordinarily blond, and seem to keep their pink complexions even in that hot climate.  Another feature is that quantities of Europeans ride bicycles, and there are large numbers of big children everywhere, who seem to come and go to school by bike.

The second evening we were there we went out to the north of the town by tram to the Zoo.  It was a pleasant drive, but we did not get there till 5.45 and found that it shut at 6 p.m.  As the entrance was rather over a shilling each, we did not think it worth going in, and decided to go for a stroll instead and come to the zoo another evening.  By luck, rather than good management, we found ourselves on the bank of the small river which winds through Sourabaya, and had pleasure in seeing the boats with oddly carved and painted prows; in watching a fine red sunset behind a row of the tall spires of a sort of Casuarina tree; and in observing the life in the houses and gardens, passing from good class European at the beginning of our walk, through degrees of half-caste into Chinese quarters, as we got nearer back to the middle of the town.  Our third evening our attempt to get down to the sea, where there was reputed to be a salt-water swimming pool, and where the end of a promontory was marked “sea-side” on the map, was foiled, for when we descended from the tram, we found ourselves in the heart of the docks, and both Herbert and Mary felt that it was wiser for foreigners, especially for one on somewhat uncertain nationality like Mary, not to go wandering about in dock areas in war-time.  Our fourth evening we spent at the Zoo, which is to all appearances only partly made as yet, but which houses some most lovely birds, and a good animal collection.  A man, who we think must have something to do with the management of the place, was playing with the orang outans (Orange men, in Malay).  There were a couple of young ones who seemed fond of him.  One of these absurd creatures loved having its lips tickled by a leaf, and pushed these great mobile lips out through the bars, when ever he stopped the tickling.  Now and again he gave the creature a punch in the tummy, which made it go into paroxysms of silent mirth.  Our fifth evening we visited the museum, which was typical of museums in small places, housing many things which no one had the courage to throw away, and yet which were not of very great public interest.  There were, however, an interesting collection of Java things, especially of the puppet figures they use for their shadow plays.  I enjoyed seeing these, though I confess my pleasure was much spoiled by the heat, for there was no breeze, or even draught in the building, and the perspiration stormed off me.  Herbert endured the heat with far greater patience, and Mary positively likes it.  She says she never knew what it was to be really comfortable till she came to tropical climates.  This set me looking back into my childhood, and I find that I have many memories of being too hot, but none of being too cold.  It is odd that I dislike heat so much, but physically can endure it so well.  On our last evening, we took a tram to the western outskirts of the town, a short drive, landing us near the race course, the dog racing track and a “sports ground”.  We went for a wandering sort of walk, seeing and observing many things, in especial an unauthorized cock-fight.  The cocks had an enjoyable time till they were retrived by their owners.  In the mornings we had a certain number of things-to-do:- visits to the shipping office;- a visit to the Java Bank to get back our sterling notes:- a visit to the Immigration Officer, to let him know that we were departing: a little shopping, chiefly in the big book shops in which Sourabaya abounds.  Mary and I went without Herbert to one of the native markets to get a few small things, and on our way home we saw, and visited, a Chinese Cemetery, a charming place, reserved we think, for the internment of the wealthy, for the graves were large and imposing.  Herbert decided to start learning some Malay, which for some reason we never did in Batoe, and he and Mary spent a lot of time on it, so it was something of a disappointment to hear that the “boys” on this boat were all Chinese and could speak English.  However, as they are mostly recruited in Malaya or Java or one of the D.I.E. Islands, they all speak Malay, and seemed greatly pleased and amused by the fact that Herbert is learning words.  Though not so picturesque as the Malay Boys, they are better servants.  Our cabin boy is a nice-looking lad, called Lee Ah Hun, who does his work excellently. 

It is now really the 28th, for lunch-time interrupted my writing yesterday.  The weather is definitely nicer to-day.  We seem to have got away from the damp blanket of moist heat, and there is a freshness in the air.  The sea has a distinct ruffle on the surface to-day, and the water in the swimming-bath was cool and refreshing this morning.  The Chief Steward, who made one of his rare appearances on deck just as I had finished my bathe this morning, says we shall sight Australia tomorrow.  We don’t find the blackout trying, or only to a minor degree.  The ship is full, or almost so, but there is plenty of lounge accomodation, and quite a number of people go out and sit on deck in spite of the dark, so that the lounge and smoking room do not get unduly stuffy.  It is rather interesting coming across all these people from China and Singapore, and hearing some talk that is not Indian.  I have been getting through a good bit of knitting while listening to Teresa’s tales.  I brought a stock of dark blue wool for knitting socks, with the idea that I might send them home to Richard.  I am surprised to see so little war knitting going on board.  I thought everyone would be at work on khaki or blue “comforts for the fighting forces”  Its true that many of the women on board have children travelling with them, and what knitting is being done is mostly for the younglings to judge from the colour.

I want to get some of the people from China to talk about conditions out there, but so far have only heard more personal things.  There are several children on board who came out from England to Singapore via Canada in July, and are now making this voyage to Australia, where in some cases, parents are hoping to find schools in which to leave them.  The ban on sending money for their support does not arise in Australia, and it is not such a very long journey to Singapore.  There is one charmingly pretty twelve year old girl on board, to whom I have lent my copy of Capt Cook’s Voyages, which was a parting present from Edward Groth.  I have been reading the book with great interest.  I was lamentably ignorant of the history of Capt Cook, and am now filled with admiration of him.  He seems to have been a very paragon of explorers.

We are so glad to be getting English news again.  We do not have direct broadcasts turned on, but the radio news is typed fully, and copies are put about in the lounge in the morning about 10 a.m.  Pleasure at the success of the Greeks, and news of the heavy raiding the R.A.F. is doing over Germany is somewhat counter-balanced by the accounts of the heavy raiding on England, and anxiety for the personal safety of all of you and distress at the damage that is being done.

Dec 1st  We woke on Friday morning to find ourselves anchored off Thursday Island, where I think there is a Control Station.  Thursday Island is one of a group of pretty islands, heavily wooded, and somehow quite different from my expectations.  From then on the weather has been perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and we have had things to look at all the time.  Most of the way we have been near the coast, which from big hills in the north, became mountainous yesterday, and very beautiful.  On the seaward side, we saw, little islands and bits of the reef, and to-day we have been threading our way amongst charming islands, which at last begin to be free from the dense mantle of trees of which I get so tired.  The sea is a most marvellous light bright blue with dark shadows, and green lights on it, like the sea round the coast of Cornwall, quite different from the pale oiliness or dark indigo of the Java seas.  The water in the swimming-bath, though it was 82 yesterday and is 80 to-day, feels delightfully refreshing after the temperatures nearing 90 which we had previous to that, and its so lovely to be able to sit in the sun and enjoy it.  I am sorry to say that Herbert’s enjoyment of these last few days has been marred by a slight fever, which has made him feel off colour and depressed.  I suppose its a touch of malaria, and he is taking plasma-quin, which may be partly responsible for making him feel “low”, but we hope it will prevent any recurrence of the fever, for it is supposed to destroy the malaria germ in its a-sexual resting state, which ordinary quinine does not touch.

There are only two or three Australians travelling on this boat.  A large proportion of the passengers are people from Malaya, who cannot take home-leave and are going to Australia or N.Z. instead.  Others are from China, and there is one family from the oil-fields of Borneo, and two French couples from Siam, who, though Free French, are worried about this trouble between Siam and French Indo China.  One couple I like very much, are especially anxious, for the husband is legal advisor to the Government of Siam, and he does not know whether this will affect his position, in spite of the fact that he formally declared to the Government that he adhered to the Free French, when first France collapsed.  They can get neither money, nor news of their nine year old son and other relatives from France, and yet they contrive to show a reasonably cheerful face to the world.

The luxury of board-ship travel almost alarms me now-a-days.  The contrast since I first started travelling to and fro from India is tremendous.  On this boat, almost all the 1st class cabins except 9, have their own bathrooms.  The 2-berth ones, like this of ours, are like nice small bedrooms, with two beds, two arm chairs, two hanging cupboards.  The “blowers” bringing fresh air into every part of the ship, have been a revolution in themselves.  All boats seem to have permanent swimming-pools now, and not the canvas tanks that used to be rigged up.  An ironing and washing room, and a dark room, are also provided for the passengers use.  I wonder whether all standards will have to come down again after the war, and whether we shall not have to learn to be content with less.

We have seen scarcely any habitations down this coast.  Teresa says it is sparsly populated.  I suppose on shore it is pretty hot, for we are still not out of the tropics.  I am intending to post this letter at Brisbane.  I hope we shall go ashore there, at any rate for long enough to have a drive round the town.  Teresa is getting off there, and is worried to know what to do with herself. She is going to miss all her Balinese servants.  She is so crippled with arthritis now that it is difficult for her to do things for herself, and she says it is almost impossible to get servants in Australia.  I fancy she would be a difficult person to serve for, though generous, she is fearfully didactic.  That is probably why she likes Bali so much, for I imagine the easy-going Balinese are quite prepared to do anything she wants, in return for what I rather suspect, is over generous pay and privileges.  Its sad when a person comes to her age, and has no roots, and no intimate, either relation or friend she can turn to.

I think the end of the paper is just coming, so I will make my farewells.  Its such a treat to know that we are getting back to Empire rates of postage and ½ oz letters.

Best love to you all

LJT


From LJT to Annette

Between the coast of Australia and the Great Barrier Reef
Nov 30th 1940

My darling Annette

My news of you all is very stale, for Aunt’s letter – sent on to me in Java and dated Sept 5th is the latest – One tries not to worry, but the air-raids are always hanging about in ones mind and thoughts of them are ready to intrude at any moment. I often wonder how you are finding life in your lodgings under war conditions – I hope the fact that everyone’s life if disturbed and that so many others are away from their normal homes, makes it easier to put up with these things – I am writing instead of typing this, for there is rather an attractive coastline to look at on the one hand and islands and reefs on the other, so I dont feel like staying in the cabin, which I did not mind doing when there was nothing but sea all round – Dad has had very slight fever the last few days, and I have persuaded him to take a course of plasma-quin and to spend his morning at ease in a long chair, instead of sitting bolt upright gazing into space and tapping away on the typewriter. The library on this ship is such a contrast to the Klopfontein’s – It can scarcely be expected that they should have such new books for the ship is much older – but for some extraordinary reason the books have all been bound in uniform dark green or dark red with numbers on them and the steward in charge of the library wont let me take out books and look at them. He says one must look the book up in a catalogue and then he gives out the number asked for – It seems to me like putting the books into prison and making convicts of them – taking away their personalities and giving them a number. Its such a contrast to the Klipfontein, where many of the books still had their gay paper jackets and where the young steward knew something of them all, and liked to discuss them. I feel quite sorry for the books and wish they would go on strike like the toys in the Boutique Fantasque and all come walzing out one night.

We are finding Cousin Teresa a bit of a trial. She is almost as old as Auntie May and almost as lame, poor thing, so she cant get about the ship easily – She rather likes to fasten us down at her side, as an audience for her reminiscenses - Sometimes they are interesting enough, as when she was telling us of a little cottage they had with 360 acres of bush, on some mountains near Brisbane – She and her husband used to go there and watch the birds and insects and study the plants and often had members of the natural History Society up there – At other times, alas – they are dreary recitals of the dozens of voyages she has made, and of how nice Capt So and So was to her, and what he said, and what she said and how he gave a special dinner for her – and then she tries to remember the names of all the people who were there, and gets worried because she cannot. She does not seem to realize that it is of no possible interest to us to know whether the Captain’s name was Smith or Brown and whether there were two knights and a general amongst the party or not – Poor Teresa! I’m afraid she is a sad example of how not to grow old. I hope I will manage to follow more the examples of my old Aunts Jane and Polly and of Janie Wrey – or dear Baroness Giskra. She tells stories, now and again, of happenings and parties in her past, but there is always something interesting or amusing in them, and they are never directed to show her as the heroine of the occasion. Its interesting how things work out – When Hitler was conducting his campaign to oust anyone with a speck of Jewish ancestry from public service, the Ows had to get their family trees – Mary’s father was a Czech and Mary had to write home both for her fathers and family tree and her Mothers American one – Her Father ancestry for 300 years came back to her showing pure Czech ancestry, with her grand-father as Major of one of the big Czech cities for many years – At the time she was very annoyed at having to do this, but it has now proved a boon, for she has been able to claim and get Czech citizenship. It has been interesting to hear something of the series of incidents that finally drove Wehner to chuck how own country and flee to Java – An important factor was that he could not and would not act as a Secret Service Agent – in spite of pressure – He utterly refused to use his position and his personal friendship with English, French and Egyptians, to act as a spy. He was at oxford, you know and had many English friends – His Mother is French and he has many French friends and relations – It was for this reason that during the “Kaiser’s War” he asked to be allowed to do his fighting on the Russian front and was so permitted. My friendship with him and Mary and with Anina has brought home to me something of the tragedy of being tied to a country which is doing things you hate and despise – It must be dreadful to belong on-where, as Mary does at the moment.

One seems to be running up against tragedies caused by the war and its repercussion every moment. I have been talking to rather a charming little French woman – Her husband – also on board and a pleasant fellow – is Legal Advisor to the Government of Siam. When France went they wrote to the Siam Government declaring themselves adherants of the Free French – but now that Siam is on the brink of War with French Indo China, they wonder whether the fact that they are declared “Free French” will be enough to keep their position – or whether they will find themselves in Australia with no job and no money – They have a nine year old son with his Grandmother at Rennes of whom they have had no news since the Invasion – We are lucky to be British!

Best love, my dear
Mother
Dec 11th This made letter overweight last week – so I kept it back – Love –