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The Townend Family Letters

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

1940 October

From LJT to Romey

Oct 5th, 1940
7 Alipore Rd, Calcutta

My darling Romey,

This has been another exciting week for letters from you and Cousin Susie. Oct 3rd, a budget came directed to Uncle Harry and this morning I got another budget which probably came by the same mail, but have been out to Chinsurah and back. The odd thing is that the envelope directed to H.D. (Harry) contained letters written on Sept 7th (telling about the purchase of the fur coat, and interviews with the University Dean), whereas the envelope directed to me contained letters written on 16th August from the holiday camp. When I have a little time, I must set out all your letters, on which I have entered the date on which they were received, and see if there is any rhythm in the way they come, quickly and slowly. Anyway, it is lovely to have them and we are grateful to you for writing at such length.
(I had to break off to go out to lunch with an old friend, and now H.D. and Winsome have gone into their room for an afternoon rest, and I have moved the typewriter down into the nursery, which I am using as my writing room, because it is next door to them, and I fear the tapping might disturb them. I have it on the dressing-table stool, and am sitting on a low sofa, so it feels distinctly odd.)
To go back to your letters, especially the later one; I am so glad you have got a fur coat and some nice clothes. I don’t think what you have bought sounds at all extravagant, in fact rather the reverse. You had nothing but school things, and those were pretty well worn, I should think. I knew you would want a good many clothes, and that was really why I hurried to send off money to Cousin Susie. I’d just love to see you in your fur coat and permed hair. Do you think you could get someone to do a photo of you, or get an inexpensive professional one done? I would appreciate it.
I am awfully interested in what you and Cousin Susie say about the university Courses. I rather incline to hope that you have settled on the First Year Arts Course, with Zoology added. I hope you won’t find the maths too frightfully bothering. Is there a chance that different methods may throw fresh light, and clear up difficulties. H.D. was talking only a couple of nights ago about how stupid some of the English methods of teaching maths are. When I was young, I never grasped that methods in maths, are not ends in themselves, but like a workman’s tools, that is forged for the purpose of doing certain things, and that the mathematical geniuses are the people who have been able to invent new and better tools. I wish you could have some talks about maths with Idris Matthews. I am sure he would throw much light on many problems for you, and make them live. Maths for him, is the really practical part of his life.
How strange that the Winnipegians don’t take much exercise. You know, I think few town dwellers take exercise in the same way that people do who live always in the country. I have not been getting half enough exercise myself, but I look forward to getting plenty once we arrive in the mountains of N.Z.
I think I told you that I am arranging for all letters to be sent to H.D., and I have told him and Winsome to open the home letters and yours, and read them before sending them on to us. The Airmail from here to Java goes twice a week, and only takes two days, so that letters will catch us easily there.
I am greatly looking forward to real leisure on the boat, and in Java. Best love to all, with a special hug for yourself.

Mother

Family letter from LJT

7 Alipore Rd
Calcutta

Oct 5th 1940.

My Dears,

“Partier c’est mourir un peu”, as M. Marsouttier said when we bade farewell. It is true, in a sense, and the analogy may well be worked out on the plan of our animal existence, in that used up cells die and fall away, to give place for new vigourous ones. A little part of life has gone with Chinsurah, and though at the last moment when I ran out to look at the river and the garden, I did feel a little lump in my throat and a slight moistness of the eyes, which the long line of servants and their children who were drawn up to say good-bye, did not help to dispel, I would not for the world be going to stay on in Chinsurah indefinitely. Now I look forward to some entrancingly interesting new bits of life, and to the hope of seeing Herbert rest and recover. He went off on Saturday, that is a week ago to-day, and he arrives here to-morrow morning. Our boat arrived a few days ago, and we have been instructed that we are to embark on the afternoon of the 10th. It suits us perfectly, as it will give Herbert a few days to sort his papers, and do the jobs he had no time for in Chinsurah. It is a boon beyond count that we are able to stay with Harry and Winsome. They are such darlings and do everything possible to make one comfortable and to help. Winsome has put Charlotte’s day nursery, with its big table, entirely at my disposal, for writing and sorting papers, of which I still have a good bit to do, and the big spare bedroom with its two fans, and ample cupboards, is an ideal place in which to pack. Actually I have had to unpack my luggage very little, but when Herbert arrives, I shall have to do a complete repack for him.

The last days in Chinsurah were very busy, and a lot of time was taken by people coming in to say good-bye. However with the able and untiring help of Mogul, everything was properly done, and I could look with satisfaction on the neatly stacked boxes on one side of the big boxroom, each numbered and painted with Herbert’s name, and marked with a blue “E”, so that if we do not return, there will be no difficulty about sending them to England. On the other side are the boxes of things to be sold or given away if we do not return, each with a ticket of instructions on it, and a letter in green, to correspond with a list of instructions. It will be a pity if all this careful staff work is wasted, and we come back!

I have really had a grand turn out this time, and got rid of a lot of superfluous stuff. I left after lunch on Tuesday 1st, and got here in time to have a peaceful tea with Winsome. I had to go out a little later to say goodbye to Walter Jenkins, who had to leave for Darjeeling that night. Since then my time has been well taken up with getting all our money affairs settled. There is a bit of a performance about getting the permission to purchase foreign currency, and we need Dutch Florins for our three or four weeks in Java. I had to sign all sorts of forms, but everything was finished up yesterday, and I have travellers cheques for Java, sterling notes for use on the ship, and a Letter of Credit for emergencies. Its very lucky that there are not restrictions about taking money into New Zealand. (Sorry! This wretched machine is sticking again) A few lines back, I expressed myself badly. I started by saying that my time had been well takne up, and intended to give a list of the different things that I am doing, but got sidetracked on to one. As well as money affairs, there have been a few little shoppings, and a lot of goodbyes, as well as an afternoon with the new Hon Secretary of the Himalayan Club who after three weeks of work, had collected some questions to ask me. Seeing and saying goodbye to all ones friends, is the most difficult thing. Edward Groth has very kindly arranged a little cocktail party for the Committee of the Himalayan Club, for this evening, and I stay on to dinner with him afterwards. I am especially sorry to say goodbye to my American friends, because there is less chance of seeing them again, whereas the British ones will turn up in England in that dream time which must come true some day, when the War will be over, and lives can be readjusted.

Forgive a short letter. I dont feel much in the mood for writing.

Best love to you all – My next letter will probably be posted from Penang.
LJT
(handwritten in margin- Darling Annette – Forgive me for not writing a personal letter this week – The big table before me is covered with “things to be done” – Best love and bless you – Mother

From LJT to Romey

October 12th, 1940
SS Klipfontein
(still on the River Hooghly!)

My darling Romey,

To our great delight, your letter written on Sept 15th, arrived a few days before we left Calcutta, some five days after the one you wrote on the 22nd. I suppose they get held up in the Censor’s office at Hong Kong. So far none of your letters have been opened, but they all bear the Censor’s stamp. It is your letter of 15/9/40 that you comment on the news of our departure for New Zealand, and also tell about John settling in at School and about your plans for the University course. The letter of the 22/9/40 describes your first days at the University. Winsome was so delighted to hear al the news you gave about John and is grateful to you for seeing to his clothes. She was so glad, too, to get your letter to her.
We were interested to hear about John, but even more interested to hear about the beginning of your University career. The fitting in of the 1st and 2nd year courses must have needed a great deal of thinking out and it looks to me as if you will have to put in plenty of hard work to go through with it. It is certainly an interesting experiment, and will be a feather in your cap if you are able to telescope the three years work into two. The difficulty that at once presents itself to my mind is that of keeping your work in zoology and botany in memory, but I believe you are a thorough person in your work, so probably a very little revision will put you straight again. French is going to be more difficult to keep up. One gets so fearfully rusty, as I know to my cost. Would there be any chance of your getting some private lessons later on?
It must be rather an adventure embarking on this sort of life. The Societies must be a help. I hope Phi Gamma Delta has accepted you. I must break in with an aside here. Did you read an article in the Sept “Reader’s Digest” about an American journalist in Japan, who was arrested and kept as a “guest of the state” for several weeks while the Jap police went through all his papers and questioned him minutely about everything. One of the things that worried them most, was an entry on some day in his engagement book, looking like symbols, with a time and place against it. They were convinced it was code and that he was mixed up with some Secret Society. When he said it was a society called by the Greek letters Phi Gamma Delta, they became more and more bothered and wanted to know if he were really Greek!
To go back to plans connected with the university, don’t the Canadian and American Universities have anything to Colleges? I had never thought of it before, but now I have, I can’t remember ever having heard of any.
I like the description of your new evening frock and wish I could see you in it! Do you remember I said I had thoughts of sending a lace frock and coat of mine and the hope that you could get them altered and make use of them? On second thought, I came to the conclusion that it was not worthwhile, and I gave them away to a girl in Chinsurah, who is not at all well off.
I wonder whether you will find time to learn shorthand. It must be an enormous convenience to be able to use it, when one has to take a lot of notes at high speed. How strange it is that in a way, our minds have been made up for us, about your immediate future, and that you are going to have a University Career after all. I hope you will enjoy it. It sounds to me as if it has the elements of being very good fun. All of you--Cousin Susie, Helen and yourself, must have taken a lot of trouble to figure out the best course for you to do and you must be very pleased to have got the thing settled.
I was sorry to hear about the sting on your leg and the fall of your bike. It was lucky you did not have a worse accident. Lucky, too, that when your horse took fright at the Army tanks, you had open country to go over.
I shall be glad to know how your “budget” works out. I rather wish we had asked for permission to send you more money right away. I do hope this will be enough. You certainly have never been one to over-spend. Budgeting when you have no previous experience to go on is not easy--but I suppose Helen can furnish you with some information.
14/10/40 I don’t know why I have left this letter aside so long before finishing it. I have written the ‘Family” one and one to Cousin Susie (which I enclose) meantime. It is an enormous joy having this nice cabin with windows through which we get all the breeze and a table at which I can write or type. I have done a lot of writing and accounts, and this morning I spent 2 hours mending, washing and ironing. It really is a joy to see Dad looking so comparatively carefree and so much less tired. I could not have believed that a week’s freedom from ht responsibility of his work would make such a difference to him.
About your letters to N.Z. -- do use the fortnightly AirMail. The joy of getting fairly fresh news of you will be worth the expense.
I am interested to hear that Zinnias do so well in Winnipeg. They must be accommodating plants, for one can scarcely think of two climates more different than Bengal’s humid heat and Winnipeg’s dry air. Alas! Zinnias no longer do well in Bengal! For the past few years they have suffered from a disease called ‘leaf curl’ which attacks them just as they are beginning to flower. The plant gradually becomes shriveled and withered and finally dies, and nothing one can do seems to stop or cure it. Are there any or many wild flowers? Most likely if they’re are any they will come in the Spring and early summer.
We had our first experience of blackout last evening. For the two nights that we were in the river Hooghli, we did not have to hide our lights. It is really not too bad. There is enough light in our cabin and bathroom to see by quite adequately for dressing and undressing, and the young officer who came round to take the bulbs out of the lights over the dressing table and washstand, said there was no reason we should not open our window shutters as soon as we had put out our light. It is almost full moon and it was lovely on deck last night. I stayed up quite late. The sea was and is like a mill pond and the air is balmy.
This will be posted at Singapore, I think. Best love, darling and good luck in your Varsity career.

Mother

Family letter from LJT

S.S. Klipfontein.

A few hours from the

Mouth of the Hooghly

October 15th 1940

My Dears,

Although we did not have to be on board till Thursday afternoon, we were busy up to the last.  Herbert got back from Darjeeling last Sunday morning (The week has come round, and its Sunday again to-day.  Its been a pleasure to have him free from work, and able and willing to come out to the shops and buy shorts and socks, and books and other oddments, and to visit some of our many friends in Calcutta.  He seems to have improved in health, with the freedom from work and responsibility even in these few days.  We spent Sunday afternoon out at DumDum with Idris Matthews, and each had a last flight.  I went over Chinsurah to bid it another goodbye, and Idris made me keep the stick till we were right back in position for landing.  Winsome had kindly arranged to have a few of our old friends, including Charles Holmes, to dinner that night.  We spent a good deal of time lunching or dining out, or seeing people at the house during the last three days, and I seemed to have no more than enough time to re-do Herbert’s packing completely, finish off my own, put everything in proper order.  Harry and Winsome have been most helpful all through, and have simplified arrangements for me a very great deal, though I fear the various things they are doing for us, will give them a certain amount of work, especially forwarding all our letters.  Winsome most kindly put Charlotte’s day nursery, with its nice big table at my disposal as a writing room, and it was a boon to have plenty of space where I could spread out all the papers I had to sort and deal with, and not have to pack them away again each time I left them.  In fact the hospitality of 7 Alipore Rd eased our path beyond all count.

We drove down to King George’s Docks after luncheon Thursday, and as there was no crowd and plenty of room, customs did not take long We had had practically all our papers, maps etc passed by the censor previously, and they were in a sealed box.  The Dutch Officers in beautifully laundered white uniforms greeted us politely as we went on board, and one young man took us along to our cabin.  I never dreamed to travel in such luxury.  Our cabin is No 1 and it looks forward over the well deck, and by rough pacing I should say it is about 16 ft square.  It has two sizable windows looking forward, and two at the side.  There are two beds, and beneath the forward windows, a long sofa, big enough to lie full length on.  There is an oval table and two small arm-chairs, as well as an upright arm-chair in front of the dressing table.  There are two wash basins, beautifully fitted up with bakerlite places for sponges soap and all other washing paraphanalia, and equipped with thermos jugs in which a supply of iced water is provided.  There are a big hanging and shelf cupboard, and a roomy dressing table with plenty of drawers, and more drawers below the sofa, and greatest glory of all, we have our own bathroom, with full length and fresh water shower.  We have four air ventilators, and of course one in the bath room.  A sea voyage in such surroundings on smooth seas, takes on a very different complexion from one made second class in an old B.I.  This boat is the newest possessed by the Java Bengal Line.  She started on her maiden voyage from Amsterdam early in August, 1930, expecting to be back again in nine weeks.  She has not been home yet, so technically is still on her maiden voyage.  The dining-room is air-conditioned, and I believe air-conditioning can be turned on in the lounge when it has to be shut up.  I think she can accomodate about 80 first class passengers and I dont know how many “tourist”, nor do I know how many “tourist” class there are on board, but until we get to Singapore, we have only seventeen 1st class passengers.  Out of these, we know a nice American family, Mr and Mrs Witney with two grown up daughters, who are friends of Louise Ranken’s and of Harry and Winsome, and who found us almost directly we got on board.  Then there is a Mr Mason, a young man in the firm of de la Rue, who has been rushing all round the world during the past year, and who is a friend of friends of ours in Calcutta.  Sir David and Lady Ezra, well known Calcutta people, and also old friends, with whom we lunched the day before we left, told us to look out for a Mr and Mrs Ben Cohn, Manager of one of Calcutta’s big cinemas.  Besides these, there are an elderly couple who have spent many years in Persia, and have just retired for good., American Missionaries, we suppose; - Three or four men, Americans in the service of the Burmah Oil Co, with whom I have not yet had any conversation, but Mr Witney reports that they talk such broad American that he has some difficulty in understanding them himself.  One of them has rather a giddy looking little wife, but I have not discovered to which of them she belongs.  There remain an Australian woman whose husband is in the Indian Army, and has just gone on service, where she is not allowed, so she is returning to her native land, and an elderly spinster with white hair, who has so far appeared very little.  Mr Witney was till last week, head of the Standard Oil Co in Calcutta, and has now finished with the East, after ten years in the Phillippines and twenty India.  He is a big genial American and his wife is a charming gentle woman, whom I like very much.  The girls are both nice kids, too, not at all spoilt.

The whole ship is extremely comfortably fitted up, and the food is wonderful.  The actual quality of the materials and the standard of the cooking are both so good.  They have an enormous variety of delicious breads and buns and scones.  I have never seen so many varieties.  There is also an outstandingly good library, stocked with many of the sort of books you would never expect to find in a ships shelves.  In the two cupboards open last evening there were books in English and Dutch.  The deck steward told us that in other cupboards he had books in Afrikans, French and Spanish.  “And how many languages do you speak,” asked Herbert.  “Those five” replied the young man.  I wonder whether he speaks them all as well as he speaks English, for his English is almost perfect.

We have had a curious experience coming down the river, and though we came out of dock about seven o’clock on Friday morning, we only emerged from the mouth of the Hooghly early this morning, and dropped our pilot about half an hour ago.  The reason is that this ship is too big for the river.  She only has about 2ft of clearance over the various bars with the tide at the full, so we had to do our journey in small hops, anchoring in between.  Having got out of the dock, we dropped down stream about a mile, and lay all day just below the Botanical Gardens.  In the evening, on the next tide we made another five miles or so.  Yesterday we made two moves when the tides were full, and early this morning we were lying off a place called Kedgeree, which is in the subdivision of Contai, and which we visited some twenty-six years ago.  Before the river was charted, ships used to stop here and passengers and cargo were transported the 70 miles up to Calcutta in budgeros (big rowing boats).  It has been a bit hot and sticky these two days and three nights in the river, but its delightfully fresh now, and its lovely to see the calm blue-green sea all round us.  I am typing at the table in our cabin, and the breeze is so fresh that I have some difficulty in controlling the papers.  We are now bound for Singapore, at which port we were not originally going to call, and only two days before we sailed, we were informed that the ship was not going to call at Batavia, but going direct to Sourabaya, the port at the Eastern end of Java.  I had to send a cable to Mary Ow Wachendorf who is waiting for us at Batavia.  I hope she will come to meet us at Sourabaya, and go with us to one of the Hill Stations near that port.  There are two air mails weekly to Batavia, and the flight only takes two or two and a half days, but letters often get held up for some days in the censors office.  Edward Groth therefore kindly said he would write to the American Consulate in Batavia, to communicate the circumstances to Mary, for the Diplomatic people do not get their letters held up.  I am pretty sure she will come to meet us, for her Mother has recently left for America to regain her American nationality (She married before the law was made by which an American woman keeps her own nationality when she marries) - - and Mary is at a loose end.  It is only a night’s journey from Batavia to Sourabaya by train.  Rather fortunately Edward Groth has given me introductions to several people in Sourabaya, as well as Batavia, and they include the British Consul General and his wife.  Luckily also, there are plenty of Hill stations only an hour or two by train from Sourabaya, and lots of volcanos to see.

I had intended to start writing this letter yesterday, but after doing some accounts, and writing a long letter to Rosemary about her ‘varsity career, I felt so terribly sleepy, that I just had to go up on deck to wake myself up a bit before lunch.  Its been true October weather, sticky , hot and still, and even out in mid stream there seemed no breeze at all.  If I am going to get all the letters I want finished before we reach Singapore three days hence, I shall have to stick closely to my typewriter, for I have a whole sheaf of arrears of correspondence.

The pilot who brought us down the river is an old acquaintance of ours and of the Witneys, and we have spent a good deal of time in the past two days, sitting around and talking.  He says this has been a real pleasure trip for him, except for the brief periods during which he had the anxious job of taking the ship over the bars.  He says that fortunately she is a lovely ship to handle, which has made a great deal of difference.  A Hooghly Pilot’s life must be an odd one.  They bring a ship down the river, and are dropped out-side the river mouth to go to the Pilot Brig.  There they wait till a ship comes along for them to take up to Calcutta.

Herbert has provided himself with all sorts of material with which to keep himself occupied on board.  He has “Mathematics for the Million” a book on the use of statistics in business, (which Harry gave him) and a book on learning how to type, as well as a lot of miscellaneous reading matter.  I have a quantity of books too, including a nice edition of Capt. Cook’s Voyages, given to me by Edward Groth.  We may be glad to have a good stock of books on the boat that takes us on to New Zealand, for she is only a small vessel, and may not have a library.

All the servants and stewards on this boat are Malays, and they are most charming and efficient.  Their faces are interestingly different from the Indian type and from the Chinese.  They all seem to have engaging smiles, and they move quietly and gracefully.  The Dutch officers are friendly and pleasant, and they mix with the passengers just as they wish.  They all speak English.  We have a good radio on board, and the Daventry news is turned on at 5 o’clock and 10 o’clock.  Its nice not having to be content with the brief Reuter Telegrams, as we used to have to be.

There is a small swimming bath, but it wont be in use till this evening.  Hooghli water is too dirty to be pleasant to bath in.  Its awfully nice travelling on a ship with so much room on it.  I suppose it is dull for young people, but its right enough for us, especially as out of the small number of passengers, there are a little group who are interesting to talk to.  Mr Mason who has elected to sit at our table, is an intelligent young man, and talks well, and all the Witneys are nice to talk to.

I dont know what it is about board-ship life, but it seems almost impossible not to waste time.  One seems to spend such a lot of time sitting about over coffee after meals, and taking a little exercise by walking round the deck.  I must say it makes it easier to write when one has a cabin like this to write in.

I was glad to hear from the Captain yesterday that the little motor ship on which we go from Surabaya to New Zealand is a beautiful boat.  She is something over 4,000 tons, but is less than three years old and nicely fitted up.  I had to book passages on her, without knowing anything about her, and was a little apprehensive lest she might prove unpleasant.

It is possible that I may get at least one batch of letters sent on to Sourabaya by air mail, so I hope I shant have to wait all the time till we get to New Zealand for news from home.  Rosemary’s letters will come quite quickly to New Zealand.  It was a very great pleasure getting the cable from Highways wishing us bon voyage.  Somehow the flimsy little telegram, seems such a close link.

Best love to all, LJT


From LJT to Annette

At Sea, between Calcutta and Singapore
Oct 15th 1940

My darling Annette,

To have a considerable space of time, and nothing that need essentially be done in it, save eating, sleeping, bathing, dressing and undressing, is a strange feeling, after being so busy. There is a slight uneasiness behind it all, for there lurks the ever present consciousness of the war, and the wish to be doing something to help. I find myself looking at all the Dutch Officers and crew, and wondering what their personal tragedies are. They manage to look and talk cheerfully enough, but I believe few of them have been able to get any news of their people. They mix freely with the passengers. The Captain, who has the nice easy name of “Post” is a most cheerful looking individual, and quite a witty talker. The Purser is a merry little man, too, who wears his hair “en brosse”, not, I fancy, because he wants to, but because it wont lie down. If anything can make me feel its right to be doing nothing for the time being, it is the immediate reaction of the holiday on Dad’s health. He is a different man from what he was, say a fortnight ago, and looks and seems ten years younger.

It was a most delightful surprise to get a cable from Highways wishing us “bon-voyage”. The warming of the heart is worth the money. Have you heard in any detail about Romey’s arrangements to combine the First and Second year courses at the University, so that, provided she passes her exams, she can take a Degree at the end of two years. I imagine she will have to put in a good deal of hard work if she is going to succeed. I am glad she has shown the enterprise and interest to fix this up, and I hope she will do well. Its interesting that she has chosen science after all. I believe it appeals to her more than purely literary or historical stuff. I expect I should see an enormous change in her if I could see her now, and very likely, you would too, even after so few months. I wonder whether she will accept my suggestion, and get a typewriter, so that she can do carbon-copy letters to send to us, to Highways and to Harry and Winsome. I think it would be a good idea.

I wonder how you will find life in Bletchley in the winter. It wont be so pleasant when the weather is too bad to allow you to get out for walks and rides. There are not many days to go to your birthday now. I hope our cable will reach you about the right time, and I wonder whether you will be able to do anything to mark the auspicious day.

An illustration of the misunderstandings that can arise between people with only a limited knowledge of one another’s language, took place at dinner last night. The Chief Engineer sits at our table. Unlike most of the officers, he does not talk very fluent English. Something was being discussed, and I said “Its all the fault of MISTER Hitler”, emphasising the “Mister”. The Chief turned to me almost fiercely and said “Why speak you of Hitler with such respect? Why call you him Mister?” We tried to explain that “Mister” said in that tone was anything but respectful, and that the more a national hero anyone becomes, the less he is called “Mister”, but our Dutch friend was left puzzled. Later he said, “Some people make jokes about Hitler and Goering and those men. This I do not like. They are too bad to make the jokes for them”. We felt it a bit beyond our powers to explain that as far as we know there is no way of stopping the Cockney and others of like kidney, from making jokes on any subject, sacred or profane. There is a young deck steward on this boat who speaks English almost perfectly, and apparantly many other languages as well. He manages the wireless and the gramaphone, for which they have a library of excellent records, including a lot of opera. He is also in charge of the library, and he has an extremely good knowledge of books and of music. In fact he seems to have an education which should fit him for a post demanding a great deal more intelligent than that of a deck steward. Did you know that Afrikans is nothing more or less than seventeenth century Dutch? This young man tells us that any Africkander can read early Dutch without any trouble. Odd, is’nt it? Best love Mother


Family letter from LJT

Pension “Huize Miranda”

Batoe

Malang

E.Java

October 24th 1940

My Dears,

“How improbable” says Herbert, “that we should be staying in a little hotel in a little place in the middle of Java, of which we do not even know the name”.  I protested that I did know the name, but the fact is that none of us, not even Mary Ow Wachendorf, who came to Sourabaya to meet us, did know the name when we left Sourabaya on the morning of Tuesday the 22nd October (Annette’s 21st birthday).  Mary had only got our cable on the 20th and guessing that it had been dispatched just before we left, and reckoning that the voyage takes about ten days, she took train the following morning, and reached Sourabaya on Sunday evening, at the very time that our ship was slowly creeping up the straits between the island of Madoera (oe is pronounced just like our oo in “too”) and Java.  We were not allowed to land till the following morning, by which time Mary had heard that a boat was in so she left messages at the Chartered Bank to back up a telegram she had already sent there, telling us to look for her at the Hotel Orange, which, as a matter of fact, is the only first class hotel in Sourabaya.  Considering that all references to the probable date of our arrival had been snipped out of our letters and that it was only by vague guesses she worked out that we should be arriving sometime in October, her arrival at our port of disembarkation was a masterpiece!  Our cable, for some extraordinary reason, took eleven days to reach her.  She does not know this end of Java at all, but from enquiries at her hotel at Batavia got some information about places in the Hills, and thought Malang seemed as if it might be suitable, at any rate as a temporary centre from which to look for a better.  In the train coming up here, she got into conversation with two Dutch girls, with a view to as asking them if they knew of any decent Pensions or small hotels which would be less expensive than the two big luxury hotels mentioned in the Guide book, and recommended by the Hotel Orange.  The girls told her that if we wanted a nice little country place, right in the Hills, but not high enough to be in the mist line when the rains break, as they may do at any moment, we could not do better than come to Batoe, which is served by an excellent bus service, and is a drive of about 50 minutes from Malang station.  This information proved extremely good, for Malang is a big town, and lies in a wide prosperous valley between two big groups of mountains.  Batoe is a good deal higher (3,400 ft) and well up on the slopes of the mountain group, where the road winds on to a pass between the hights, before dropping again.  The climate is perfect.  We sat out in the garden in the shade yesterday, all day in cotton clothes, and went for a good walk in the late afternoon when the tropical sun had dropped a bit, and was not too hot.  The fresh clear mountain air is delicious and Java is living up to its reputation for cool sea breezes, for a lovely air stirs all day long.  I had always heard that this was one of Java’s charms.  It is caused in some way by the backbone of fairly high mountains which form the centre of the island along its whole length, acting on the breezes drawn in from the nowhere distant sea, coming in over the warm land.  The rainy season comes early in November, but it is prophesied that it will be late this year.  That would be nice for us, but bad for the country, so I suppose one ought not to wish for it.  Anyhow, for the moment, it is perfect.  We have found a nice friendly cheap little Pension here, which suits us excellently.  There is a big tourist’s hotel, but it is very expensive and we should be feeling anxious about money all the time we were there, as to whether our limited supply would last out.  Currency restrictions make travel very difficult now, and we can only cash the sum allowed us by the Reserve Bank of India for use in Java, and no more.  I think we shall stay here till almost the end of our time in Java, and then go for a few days to the highest Hill Station in the Island, Tosari, on the group of mountains across the way from us, so that we can visit the active volcano, “The Bromo” and the famous sand sea, which surrounds it.  We shall have to be back in Sourabaya a few days before our ship is scheduled to sail, for all ship movements are so secret till the last moment in these anxious days, that it is not wise to run things too close.  I don’t think we shall travel about and do much sight-seeing, partly on account of expense, partly because Herbert is not over-fond of it, and partly because we none of us feel much in the mood for so-doing.  The things we are enjoying seeing are the people, and their houses and their methods of agriculture, and the delightful scenery, and those we can enjoy to the full from this little place.  There are two or three available bus routes by which we can go further into the mountains and I am sure we shall be able to combine these with a great variety of walks.  To travel in the inexpensive way by buses and find inexpensive pensions like this would be quite impossible to us, if we were alone, for without any knowledge of Dutch or Malay, one would not be able to find ones way about, but Mary was brought up in Holland and speaks Dutch as if it were her own language, just as she does French, English and German.  She appears to speak Malay fluently too, so, apart from the great pleasure we have in her company, having her with us makes all the difference in the world to our visit.  She would be an excellent companion in any country in which she had spent a few months, for both she and her mother (who left for America at the beginning of the month) are so keenly interested in all aspects of life, and soon make themselves acquainted with the history and customs of the people, and with the trees and flowers, and arts so that one is quickly brought in touch with all there is to see.

In order to introduce you to our present surroundings, I have jumped far from the end of my last letter, and left a big gap to be filled.  Our voyage continued most pleasantly.  I was sorry we did not call at Penang and at Belawan Deli, a port in Sumatra, as we had originally been told we should, but on the other hand I was glad to see the famous harbour at Singapore, where we thought we were not calling.  We were at anchor outside Singapore when we woke on Friday morning, the 18th.  The pilot came on board early, and we were moving up between the islands while we were dressing and having breakfast.  Luckily our cabin windows were so large and well placed, that we were able to see a good deal from them.  There were many things about Singapore which surprised me.  I did not realize that there were such a lot of small pretty islands scattered about, or that they, and the main island were humpy and rocky.  I had pictured a flat mud pancake, like Calcutta, and Singapore was far, far, prettier that I expected.  The little islands, with trees growing not only down to the water’s edge, but right into the water, have a great charm.   The actual town looked larger that I had thought it would be, and one gets such a good view of it from the water.  It was 11.30 or past by the time port officials and medical officers and so on had all been on board, and the Witneys and one or two Tourist Class passengers were able to go ashore.  We did not go alongside a jetty, and the “transit” passengers were not allowed ashore.  Herbert and I had more or less decided against going anyhow, for I dont know what one would do in Singapore between 12 and 2 o’clock, except go and have lunch at a Hotel, which would in all probability not have been half as good as the food we got on the boat, and as far as sight-seeing was concerned, it would have been much too hot to be pleasant.  The whole afternoon we were passing islands, which is always rather pleasant, after several days of empty blue sea.  Our friend, the Chief Engineer, who sat at our table, and entertained us much, showed us round the engine room one morning.  I had never seen the engine room of a diesel engine boat.  The most surprising thing about it was the coolness.  It was nowhere uncomfortably hot, and at all sorts of spots there were fresh air draughts.  Nowhere was it in the least stuffy or dark.  We went through the chamber right down in the bottom of the ship, where the air for the air-conditioning plant is cooled.  There were racks of big cylinders of ammonia and a strong smell of ammonia.  Here and there on the outside of some pipe or cylinder, there were coatings of ice!  On our return journey, we visited the kitchens, which are all electrically run, even to the washing of the plates and dishes, and beautifully kept.  Practically all the Dutch officers and staff were of the rather handsome fair ruddy type, with very good complexions and blue eyes.  During our ten days voyage, we came to feel so much at home on the ship, that we were sorry to say good bye when the time came.  She is, to me, the pleasantest boat I have ever travelled on.  We crossed the Equator during Friday night, and oddly enough, it was one of the coolest nights we had.  There was a lovely crisp breeze blowing most of the way from Singapore to Sourabaya, and when we waited to take the pilot on board at the entrance of the straits leading to Sourabaya, it was a perfect evening, with the breeze blowing the water into jolly smacking little waves.  One of the two or three naval planes that were out on patrol, came to look at us, and the following morning in the harbour, the Imperial Airways plane came close past our cabin windows, as she prepared to take off.  Its a lovely sight to see a big plane leave the water.  We did not tie up alongside a jetty till about 9 o’clock the next morning, and went ashore about half an hour later.  There were only two other people leaving the ship in Java, which was lucky for us, for the customs are very through, and would take a very long time if there was a crowd to deal with.  The Dutch Officials are charmingly polite, and most helpful.  After the customs, we had to go to the immigration office, to get our passports stamped with permission to stay on the island for so long.  They wanted to know where we were going, but that was exactly what we could not tell them, so they let us have our passports all the same, and told us to report our future address when we knew it.  Next we went to the bank to change some of our traveller’s cheques, for we had to leave all our English bank notes with the customs, and were, for the moment, almost penniless.  At the Bank, we got Mary’s wire and message, and were overjoyed to know that she was in Sourabaya.  Finally it was about 11.30 when we got to the hotel.  The first person we encountered was Mr Mason, who had been sitting at our table on board.  A message to Mary’s room quickly brought her running to greet us, and I was glad to see her again, and touched that she seemed so truly delighted to see us.  She is terribly thin, but otherwise not much changed, and I am glad to say, more cheerful than I had expected.  Little by little the story of all they have been through since her father refused to return to Berlin, is coming out.  She has nothing but praise for the kindness and courtesy of the Dutch.  It has eased their situation very greatly.  Her mother was granted American citizenship some time ago, but had to go and live for a while in America in order to get an American passport.  Exactly what they will do in the future, Mary does not yet know.  We invited Mr Mason to stay to lunch with us, and after lunch we thought the best thing to do was to go for a drive round the town, calling at the Bank and the shipping offices (where we had to change our voucher for the ticket for the next stage of our journey) and at the Immigration Office.  We succeeded in getting an open car, and when the sun had dropped somewhat, we had the top put down, so that we could see much more.  The striking things in Sourabaya, to one coming from India are, firstly the tidiness and cleanliness of the place, secondly the far larger proportion of Europeans, and their fair colouring, thirdly the way Europeans ride bicycles about the streets, especially big children of school age, who are practically non-existent in India; fourthly the gaiety of the varied native population, amongst whom there seem to be a large number of Chinese; fifthly (and I really think I should have put this first) the astonishing variety of headgear.  I did not know the world contained hats of so many sorts, shapes and colours.  Sixthly, the women going about everywhere and joining in the work, and the gay colours of their sarongs (the cloth worn by both men and women, wrapped round them in place of skirt or trousers) and little jackets.  Another big contrast to Calcutta and Bombay is the varied style of houses.  Those in Sourabaya are more European in style, and, I should think less suited to a tropical climate.  This may be because the climate here is milder, that is never as hot as an Indian hot weather and never anything like as cold as the Indian Cold weather.  They are (in the residential districts) as far as I could see, practically all one-storied.  There are large districts laid out with wide roads, divided down the middle by a wide strip of lawn, on which at intervals, flowering shrubs or trees are planted.  Mostly these are bourgainvillias, magenta, carmine and rose duBarry.  Sometimes the roads are lined with avenues of Casuarina trees.  In some roads the houses are very small but neat and smart and each in a minute garden with as many flowering shrubs as there is room for.  Houses in India occupied by people, either Indian, Anglo-Indian or “poor white”, who would be content with such limited accomodation, would be sordid beyond compare, but here they are not at all.  The real native houses built of matting, have the same neat and prosperous air, and no untidy edges to them.  In our two hour drive, we saw most of the town, I think, but we did not attempt to visit the Arab town about twenty miles away, which is apparently one of the things to go to.  Perhaps we shall make that excursion when we go back.

As we had decided to leave by a train at 10 o’clock the next morning, I spent a busy evening re-packing my things, and got up early to deal with Herbert’s, for we did not want to take everything trailing round with us.  On board ship, I had no idea what we should want, so I could not do it then.

Mary asked whether we minded travelling 2nd class, which delighted me, for I always grudge money spent on expensive travelling.  The 2nd class carriages are most comfortable.  The whole coach is one unit, so to speak, like those ones on the boat trains between London and Dover, and there are little compartments at the ends with racks for luggage, all most convenient.  The seats are covered with fine matting, which is cool and clean looking, and the trains are air-conditioned, so they are wonderfully cool.  Our journey took 1 ¼ hours, and at Malang we had to wait about ten minutes for our bus.  It was something like a road coach, but with two 1st class seats running across the bus in the front, and 2nd class seats facing each other at the back.  Our mass of suitcases and bags were cheerfully hurled on to the roof, and we had a pleasant drive, including what might have been rather a tiresome ten minutes wait at the main bus-station in the town’s market place, but which, for us, turned out to be quite as good as a scene from Chu Chin Chow, with the advantage that we had paid nothing for it.  I have never seen so many sorts of edibles being sold by so many different types of people.  Mary says she thinks many of the Malays and Javanese don’t have regular meal hours, but just buy a little something when they feel hungry and sit down and eat it in the street.  At the bus station in this place we got a funny little bus-taxi, and piling our luggage inside and on the roof, we squeezed in ourselves, and set off for the local information Bureau to find out if they also recommended this place, mentioned by our fellow-travellers, and whether there were others.  It was confirmed that this was the nicest Pension, and we were lucky in getting the last two rooms.  (This is apparantly the beginning of the holiday season in this part of Java)  Huize Miranda is a moderate sized house accomodating about a dozen guests.  It is simple, but very clean and comfortable, and the food is excellent.  There is a paved sitting place on the South front, shaded by a great purple bourgainvillia, which has been clipped and trained to form the shade.  On each side of us are views of big mountains, and a little further off, a volcano that spouts sulpher gas.  The Host and Hostess are a youngish couple.  He works in Malang every day.  They are both extremely friendly and obliging, and most anxious to do everything possible to make us comfortable.  They both speak a little English, and Madame tells Mary that we are to be sure to ask for anything we want, and that she will do her best to give us things in the English fashion, if we will tell her how.  We have been in her very nice kitchen this morning, seeing all the ingredients prepared for the famous “Rice tafle” meal.  There were five or six Javanese girls all working away, and frightfully amused at seeing us examining everything.  It seems that the Javanese are ready to laugh at anything!

Best love to you all

LJT


From LJT to Annette

Huize “Miranda”
Batoe
Malang
E. Java
October 25th 1940.

My darling Annette,

On October 22nd I woke at 5 a.m. in the Orange Hotel in Sourabaya, and my very first thought was that it was your 21st birthday. It was pretty good for exact timing, for you were born in Calcutta about 3 a-m and I think Java time is about two hours ahead of Calcutta. By English time, of course, it was before midnight, and so still the 21st. We talked of you a lot during the day, and wondered whether you would be working in office. I do hope my cable reached you about the right time. They have become almost as chancy as letters these days. Mary Ow asked lots of questions about your career, and when, at tea-time, in this little place, we cut into one of Edward Groth’s nut-breads, that he had sent to her, she dedicated it as your birthday cake! You have had the responsibility of managing your own affairs for so long now, that I dont exactly feel that you are stepping through into a new series of responsibilities by gaining you majority. You did that more definitely when you went up to Oxford. Well! Good luck to you, and I hope you will find lots of pleasure and happiness in life, in spite of the difficult time that the world is going through.

Dad was feeling dim on your birthday. He had unfortunately picked up a heavy cold the last day on the ship, and that on top of the number of things we had to do in Sourabaya on the day of arrival, and the journey up here on the 22nd, made him very tired. The lovely clear mountain air and the bright sunshine here, where he can lounge on a long chair in the garden all day, if he feels like it, and walk a little when the fancy takes him that way, have soon restored him. We are gradually making a collection of a few Malay words. There is a most amiable “boy”, in reality an elderly smiling man, who waits on us, and attends to our room, and he talks to us so hopefully, and then makes signs in the hope of getting us to understand. These Malays and Javanese seem awfully nice people. Mary has promised to give us a little lesson in Malay late to-day. She says it is one of the simplest languages in the world, really not much more than “baby talk”. For instance they have no way of forming a plural except repeating the word a second time. It is worth learning a few words for a stay of a month in a place.

I do not know whether there may be any letters for me at Batavia. It was a nuisence that the ship altered her plans at the last moment. It was of no use my writing to the Bank in Batavia to forward my letters till I knew what our address was to be, and that I did not know till we arrived here. Its odd how much more difficult it is to write when there is no letter to answer.

Best love, my dear,
Mother

October 31st. I’m sorry this could not go off last week, but as the home envelope was double-weight without it, I could not bear to pay about another 1/6 to send it – Dad has been talking of writing again – He sends his love and so do I – Mother

From LJT to Romey

October 25th, 1940
Huize “Miranda”, Batoe Malang, E. Java

My darling Romey,

It is really impossible to judge when letters will reach you, and I somewhat sadly realize now, that I certainly should have sent my birthday wishes in the letter I posted at Singapore, However, you will know that we shall be thinking of you on November 17th, just as we were thinking of Annette on Oct 22nd. I wish I had been able to think of something to send you as a present, instead of just suggesting that you buy something yourself. Posting and customs all make the sending of parcels so difficult. I have bought a book about the founding of Winnipeg, called “Mine Inheritance” by Frederick Niven. It is a long novel, and was a recent choice by the Book Society, so it should be reasonably good. From the long bibliography at the end, it appears that the author has read up his subject thoroughly. When I have read it, which will be, I think on the voyage to New Zealand, I intend to post it on to you. Books are easy enough to send, I expect, and I don’t suppose there is a duty on them.
I have written such a long Family letter that there does not seem very much left to say. I have written to the Bank in Batavia to tell them to send on letters, so if by any chance, you have written there, your letters will be forwarded alright, and I might perhaps get one, in a few days. That is possibly too much to hope for, I daresay you thought it would be too much of a risk writing to Java, since it was probably hard to discover how long letters would take. I am interested to hear that Airmail letter from here go to America and Canada via Australia.
The mountains here are beautiful, but they have the drawback that they are covered with dense forest, so that one can only go about on them where there are tracks, and then one does not se very much, because the trees are pretty big, and the scrub between them is eight to ten feet high. I suspect that here we shall get into some sort of walking training by going about the roads and lanes, which is pleasant, and looking up a the peaks above us. When we get to New Zealand, then we shall be able to wander over the mountains more in the European style, I imagine, for N.Z. is in a familiar latitude, and I suspect that at heights of 3,000 or 4,000 ft there is no more forest on the hillsides. Mary Ow tells us that walking, as we enjoy it, is little done in this country. She is interested to hear that you have found the same thing in Canada.
There is a bird making noises almost like a blackbird in a tree close to me, but I can’t see what the bird is. I am writing out in the garden, and it’s very lovely. The only thing is that the wind blows the paper about, rather, The high road runs past this little garden and the most amusing stream of people pass up and down it. Every third or fourth person has something to sell. In the few minutes since I started writing this letter, I have been offered oranges, onions, pineapples, wooden sandals, and several other things of which I do not know the nature, and which were hidden in their baskets. I wish I could talk a little Javanese. I am going to try to learn a few words. The so-called “Boy” who waits on us and looks after our room, is an engaging elderly man with a charming smile. He says such a lot of things to us, and shakes his head rather sadly when we don’t understand. He is clever at following pantomime, and I have succeeded in getting several things by actions instead of words without appealing to Mary Ow to help. I wish I could talk the number of languages that she does!
This is really the Rest Hour --- according to Mary, a most sacred time in Java when everyone must be quiet. I think I am far enough from the house, or rather from any of the bedrooms of the house, for the tapping of my typewriter not to annoy anyone.

Best love,
Mother

Family letter from LJT

Pension Huize “Miranda”.  Batoe

Malang

E. Java

Oct 31st 1940.

My Dears,

The airmails are so expensive, and one can send so little, i.e. 5 gramms, which I think is somewhere about one twentieth of an ounce, that I have to revise my ideas about letter writing.  I shall limit myself to one sheet, typed on both sides, and one sheet divided between some members of the family.  I think I shall write my impressions of Java, partly for my own interest, and send home a copy by sea mail, which may take a long time to reach you, but about which there is no sort of hurry.  Time is passing pleasantly here, and I have the satisfaction of seeing Hebert getting nicely browned by the sun, and the tired lines gradually softening out of his face.  I think both he and Mary are looking a trifle plumper since we came here.  We find our little Pension comfortable, obliging and cheap.  The country round is lovely.  The climate is well nigh perfect, and there are buses to take us down to the excellent town of Malang, or on, up into the mountains, at  very moderate rates.  The one thing I do not give this country full marks for, is the method of bathing.  There is no comfortable tub, which one can have filled with water of the required temperature, and in which one can then sit and wash.  Instead, there is a large tank. (The one in our bathroom is about 3 ft high, 4 ft long and 3 ft wide, lined with white tiles.) One does not climb into this tank, but stands on a wooden grating beside it, sloshes water over oneself with a dipper, soaps and sloshes water again, making the floor swim with water.  Of course it is not so bad in a hot climate, as it would be in a cold one, but to me, there’s little comfort in it.  Most arrangements are so good and so practical, and practically everything is of a much better standard than it is in India.  The Town of Malang, which Mary and I visited last Friday, compares most favourably in its general lay-out, in its buildings and its shops, with the best part of Calcutta, and it is just a country town, a little over an hours journey from Sourabaya.  There is nothing at all to compare with it in India.  We caught a bus at 8.30 a.m., for life begins very early in this country, and advised Herbert not to come with us, for we had dull things to do like posting a lot of air-mail letters to different countries, (a performance which takes a long time) and visiting the bank.  Having disposed of the post office and the bank, we spent a happy time wandering round the native market, where we bought a big basket of fruit, some nice little cakes and rice wafers (a thing that would be almost unthinkable in a market in India ) and I got two charming batik “sarongs” (The straight piece of cloth that both men and women wear wrapped round them as a skirt).  My sarongs are being made into a house-coat by a little dress-maker here.  They are a leafy design in lovely shades of browns and chromes with a few small touches of indigo.  The print is one done by blocks, as the hand done ones are too expensive.  Even the block printing by this wax method used for making batik is lengthy and elaborate, so when one gets a sarong for the equivalent of about three shillings. I feel one is getting good value for ones money.  Were it not for difficulties of packing, customs duties, and such things, I should like to bring several home as presents.  Mary has made quite a study of batik,  and has given me some interesting notes to read.  As we walk along the roads we notice the patterns of the people’s sarongs, and Mary is interested to see that in this part of Java people are allowed to wear designs that are only permitted to certain members of the Sultan’s family and court, inside his dominions.  We had other small shoppings to do at the European shops, and Mary bought wool for knitting socks, an art in which I have just been instructing her.  I intended to mention how much more charming I found the Market than its equivalent in India, not only because it is so much cleaner, and less smelly, but also because the little Javanese ladies in their gay sarongs and bright jackets, with gold coins nestling in their shiny smoothly coiled hair, are much more attractive to buy from than the stout babus in semi European clothes, who serve in most of the shops in the Calcutta New Market.  We bought our fruit from an enchanting little lady, who climbed about amongst her piles of fruit, making a pretty picture for us, and caressing the mangoes and oranges with charming dainty cream-coloured hands.  I find it hard to think of these people as Muslims.  They have a gaiety, gentleness, and a general air of easygoing good humour, which it is difficult to connect with the sons of the Prophet.  Mary says that the observances of religious practices have become much milder in this easy going land, and would no doubt shock the stern Muslims of North West India and of Iran and Arabia.

Another morning we took a bus on over the col of the mountains, for half an hour’s drive, over a lovely mountain road to a little restaurant and swimming bath, from where we had been told, we should find nice walks.  The swimming bath was a delightful spot.  A mountain stream has been waylaid, and pours itself into one end of a square bath, the bottom of which is the natural rock and sand.  We rather wished we had our bathing things with us, but the water was cold, and I would have feared a chill for Herbert.  Instead we went for a delightful ramble, refusing the services of a lad, who wished to be our guide.  We climbed up and down a mountain track, through forest, villages and woods, and at last had to accept the offer of a local yokel to show us our way back to the main road.  Our direction was right enough, but the path we had been following was a village field path, and simply stopped when the fields gave way to a steep mountain side covered with jungle.  There was a vague looking track dropping steeply through it, but Mary has a stiff knee, and though she can scramble up most things, she finds precipitous descents a bit difficult.  Our lad led us along the mud walls between the fields of maize, and soon brought us to a good wide path down through the forest which emerged exactly at the “Zwimbad”, which considering we had no map and had been walking for about an hour and a half, did not speak too badly for our sense of direction.  Another morning, an elderly couple who were staying here, and who were friends of Edward Groth’s, invited us to go with them by car to a famous hotel and swimming bath about five miles from here.  It is called “Selecta” and is, of its sort, the most beautiful place I have ever seen.  The very large swimming bath is placed in a small valley, and is fed by the stream coming down from the tangle of mountains beyond.  There were elaborate diving boards, shoots, and all the usual dressing rooms etc, spotlessly clean.  All round the bath are lovely gardens, made out of the natural hill side, with the great lumps of rock as part of the landscape.  The view looking up the valley might almost have been in the highlands near Balmoral, for here the native forest was cleared many years ago, and the new forest of conifers has taken its place.  The hotel itself was about five minutes walk up the hill-side, and is so well designed, furnished and looked after, with lovely terraced gardens, and shady trees.  It must be a wonderful place to spend a holiday, and its not outrageously expensive.  The rooms with the inclusive board and baths are from just under a pound a day.  M’Frau and M’nHerr Pillis took us all round, and we sat in the garden drinking first coffee and later vermouth, and enjoyed our outing very much. 

Mostly we stay at home in the mornings, and write or work, and go out for long walks after an early tea.  We went so far last night that we came home by star-light, and lovely it was.  Its harder than ever here to realize the horrors of the war.  There is nothing in the smiling landscape about us to bring it to mind, and we, personally, are rather cut off from the news, as unfortunately the radio set in this little hotel is not a good one, and even the Singapore relay of the B.B.C. news, comes through so faintly that it is difficult to follow.  Mary listens carefully to the news from Batavia in Dutch and passes on to us all she can remember, and in the evenings she takes the Dutch paper, and gives us free translations of the more important news items.  It is tantalizing at this moment when so much is going on, not to be able to get Daventry direct.  It seems so odd, too, not to have a newspaper to read.  Oddly enough the Illustrated London News comes to this hotel.  The proprietor says it is sent to him free, which seems queer, but it has been nice for us for three numbers arrived just as we did, none of which we had seen before leaving India.  On Sundays at mid-day, after the news, the Batavia broadcasting station, “Nirom” plays the Dutch National anthem, which is a fine tune, followed by the English National anthem.  Everyone stops eating and stands.  We found it impressive and rather touching.  The rains have not yet broken here, though there have been a few showers the other end of the island.

Best love to you all,

LJT