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The Townend Family Letters

Correspondence from the 1930s - 1940s between members of the Townend family
HPV + LJT Letters 1942 to 1944

1942 December

Family letter from LJT No 45

c/o The Standard Bank of South Africa.
Cape Town.
Actually at sea, Indian ocean
Dec 3rd 1942.

My dears,

From my diary I see it is almost a fortnight since I wrote. We waited just a little longer than we expected, spending a whole fort-night at Juhu, and one night in Bombay, since we had to come on board early in the morning. We certainly have been lucky, for this is a beautiful ship and we are very comfortable. Much of the luxury accomodation designed for well-to-do tourists, has been altered to make accomodation for troops, but there is plenty of comfort left. The great thing about being on a modern ship is the adequacy of the ventilation. Good air-blowers everywhere keep the atmosphere quite reasonably good even with every port closed at dusk with the notable exception of the dining saloon, which is frightfully hot. We think it is intended to be Air-conditioned, but that the air-conditioning is not being used. The atmosphere in it makes meals rather a trial, and not to be lingered over.

Food on board is good, though much simpler than on a passenger boat. Its all we require, and Herbert gets special boiled or steamed fish, which is a bit monotonous for him, but there is always something in the meat line he is able to take. He has been doing a lot of sleeping on board, and the rest will be doing him good I hope.

We are some of the very few civilians on board. People are pleasant and we have made some nice friends. Deck space is somewhat limited, and lounge accomodation even more so, owing to the alterations which have turned the ship into a transport. After dinner we generally go up on to the “sun-deck”, a small deck above the boat deck, which has no awning over it, and from which we can get good views of the stars. We sit there till we are tired of it, and then go down to our cabin and read in our bunks. The one lounge gets very hot and crowded after dinner.

There are two or three people like ourselves, who are going to stay in Cape Town for the time being, and pooling information, we find we have collected quite a lot.

Life flowed along so smoothly in Juhu, that there seems little to say about it. It was just the sort of life without incident which suited us admirably. It was a Saturday morning when we drove into Bombay, and thinking that it would be convenient to be near the docks, we stayed at the Grand Hotel. Its of a different class from the Taj Mahal Hotel, but good enough for a night’s accomodation, except that we were given a room on the first floor, just above the entrance. As I have said, it was a Saturday, and till three o’clock in the morning, people were either driving away in garis or taxis, or coming back from parties, often parting from friends on the pavement just beneath our window, with the result that I got no sleep till that very late hour, and Herbert got very little. I have evidently forgotten the cunning I learnt when we stayed for so long in different hotels in France, and I used to ask for rooms high up at the back of the building.

We did not attempt to see anybody on the Saturday afternoon, for I never know when Herbert is going to find himself laid out with fatigue. I had some business to see to before lunch, and we decided to go to the 3.30 show at one of the cinemas. There were no films that attracted us much, so we chose an American thriller, called “The Big Shot”, which was not very good, but passable enough to be quite enjoyable.

There seems to be singularly little to write about. I have long ago got past thinking that a description of ship board life can be of much interest to you, especially when one has to be so careful not to write anything about ships.

Everyone on board is complaining of feeling sleepy t-day. I certainly do. I suppose we are all suffering from liver. It common to do so, especially during the first few days of a voyage. We walk before breakfast and yesterday I went into the swimming bath which is right down in the bottom of the ship, and did a quarter of an hours swimming, before anyone else appeared. As I have a slight sore throat to-day, I thought I had better stay out of the water.

Herbert is very industrious with his typing exercises, and devotes several short periods to them each day. He has wonderful patience for some things!

The weather is being kind. It is wonderfully cool. Yesterday and to-day we have had rain storms, which were a bit of a nuisance, but they have kept the temperature down.

(written in margin)
Thanks for Air graph of 18th Oct – It was lovely to get letters.
(Crossed out ‘Sorry! Your personal letter has to go by sea, as it makes this envelope too heavy.’)
Cancelled the above message on finding an Air Mail but only Airgraphs to U.K – Love. Mother

Thornton House Private Hotel, Kenilworth, Cape Town, Dec 13th 1942

We had a wonderful voyage. It blew rather hard the day before we reached Cape Town, and the ship rocked about a bit. Luckily I escaped feeling ill, but Herbert did not feel too good. We got in too late for customs etc on Friday evening, of which we were rather glad, for people coming on board reported that there was scarcely a bed to be had in Cape Town. Not only is the whole of South Africa full of people from the East and some from England, but the school Summer-Christmas holidays had begun that very day, and all the Sea-side suburbs, which are rich in hotels and boarding houses, are booked completely up. I was able to go ashore on to the jetty, and ring up Charles Kelly’s mother-in-law, who was most kind. She verified the report that Cape Town was full to bursting, but said she might be able to get us a room at The Settlers’ Club for a few days, and asked me to ring her up in the morning. At the telephone box, by the way, I was taken in hand by two young South African soldiers, who had been telephoning themselves, and who insisted on getting my number for me, and generally looking after me. After dinner on board, two Cape Police Officers strolled into the lounge, and sat down and talked to us for a long time. It was interesting and passed the time away pleasantly. For some reason it is always difficult to settle to anything when one stays on board a ship which is in port.

It was an immense relief to get news from Mrs Harvey the next morning that we could have rooms at the Settlers’ Club for the night, and that the people there would be able to advise where to go. It took a fair time to get the luggage off the ship and along to the customs’ Office and it must have been nearly eleven o’clock, when the formalities were over, and we were free to take our stuff away. The charming girl, who is the secretary of the Settlers’ Club, greeted us with the news that since speaking to me on the phone, Mrs Harvey had got us a room at this very nice Private Hotel till the eighteenth, so we came straight on here. It is a pretty garden suburb about five miles from the centre of the town on the east side of Table Mountain. It is a big place, with a shady garden, and suits us very well indeed. It is the sort of place where people go on living for years and years. The problem now is to find somewhere to go on the eighteenth. The over-crowding in Cape Town is so bad, that the authorities insist on newcomers moving on up-country after a fortnight, unless they have friends to go to, or work which necessitates them staying in the city. I was given the address of a farm-guest house near Elgin in the Fruit-Growing country amongst the mountains about 50 miles north of Cape Town, and got them on the phone this morning. They can take us in from Dec. 27th, and are kindly keeping the offer open till to-morrow, to give me time to see what we can fix for the intervening nine days. Mrs Nixon, the house-keeper (though she seems more like an assistant manageress) put through all these negotiations for me, and is now looking through her books to see whether there is any chance that guests are leaving here, and she might by hook or by crook, manage to squeeze us in. The Harveys who live quite close, in a tiny house, have one minute spare room, which they say is completely at our disposal, but it is not possible to put two beds into it. Failing any accomodation in Cape Town, we shall try to get into a hotel at Elgin, which my friend Mrs Nixon says is quite comfortable, and would do well enough for nine or ten days, though would not want to stay indefinitely. I am telling you all this at somewhat dull length, to show you how difficult accomodation in South Africa is. Our idea of staying in Cape Town so that I could get a job, is out of the question for the moment. It’s possible that we might be able to come back after the holiday season. The secretary of the Settlers’ Club, which is affiliated with the Overseas Club, says the Womens’ Auxiliary Service is longing for helpers of all sorts, and has plenty of office jobs going for which one does not have to wear uniform, and sign on to go anywhere.

Now having dealt with our own affairs, I must try to give you some impression of the place. Being somewhat obsessed with the problem of where to live, I have not had as much energy over to observe my surroundings, as I should have liked. We had plenty of time to look at the coast as we came along on the ship. Fine rugged hills rise up from white cliffs. Lines of surf break on sand beaches. The sun shines from a clear blue sky and the air is warm but delightfully brisk. The remarkable flat top of Table Mountain shows up from a long way off, seems to change its shape as one rounds the Cape, and again appears as a long flat table as one comes into Cape Town. The city is crowded into the limited space between the mountain and the sea, for the scarp is far too steep to allow for building on its sides. This huge wall rising up for 4,000 ft above the streets and houses, gives the town a curious character. As dusk came on, the buildings were shrouded in a veil of smoke and mist, while shafts of sunlight slanted through a gap in the hills to the west, lighted up the huge precipices which make the northern face of the mountain. It was most impressive. The points of the compass are difficult to grasp, for one has the idea that Cape Town ought to face south. It is round the point, and actually faces north, with its Western suburbs on the Atlantic coast to the west, its garden suburbs (where we are) inland to the east, and its southern suburbs on the far side of Table Mountain, facing False Bay and the Pacific, to the South.

In the town there seem to be wide streets, big buildings, prosperous looking shops, and lots of busy people, but our drive through was so quick, that I cant give much idea of what the town is like. I will be able to tell you better next week. There are plenty of negros and “colored” people about. The maids and house boys seem to be “colored people” and judging by this place, they are excellent servants. The girls who wait on us in the bed-room and at table, have sweet faces, and gentle voices. They are quite light skinned, with liquid dark eyes and frizzy hair, ready with a smile and most obliging.

Herbert is delighted to find that tea is almost as popular here as in New Zealand and Australia. Not only the early morning cup is provided as a matter of course, but again at 11 o’clock, it is set out in the lounge for all who want it. This climate seems to me just perfect for him, as it is warm and yet bracing. Elgin will possibly be a trifle cooler as it is up in the hills, but still warmer than English summer.

Mr and Mrs Harvey came to see us yesterday evening, and sat with us in the garden for about an hour, after which I walked home with them to see where their house is, so that we may easily find it when we go to tea with them to-day. They are a very nice couple. He is a retired civil servant who had work to do with the mining area in the Transvaal all through his service, and they only came to Cape Town a few years ago, when he retired. All the people we have met here seem so warm hearted and anxious to help and be friendly.

We have a few friends from India in Cape Town, but as I have to get in touch with them through the Standard Bank, I may not have time to contact them before we have to move off.

The electric trains run within a few hundred yards of this house, with a station scarcely five minutes walk from this house, so there is no difficulty about getting into town. The trains dont whistle, but make a strange noise like the beginning of a mild air-raid siren. It worried me for the first few hours, till I got used to it.

There are a lot of things to see and do in Cape Town, but until our plans are cut and dried, I dont know what we can accomplish. I badly want to go to the top of Table Mountain, and though for the present we shall have to be content with the humble method of being taken up by the funicular, we shall at any rate see the view, and must hope to climb it later in our visit when Herbert is stronger and the weather is cooler.

All our Indian flowering trees seem to be blossoming far better here than they do in Bengal, and added to them are masses of other things. The hydrangeas are better even than they are in Darjeeling, and the agapanthus, which belong here of course, are in full flower everywhere.

It is a great asset to this hotel having such a nice garden to sit in. That is the trouble in a hotel in the city. One either has to be out, or else sitting indoors. Herbert has been adopted by a black kitten of violent personality. He says it has completely prevented his writing letters this morning, for it insists on climbing on his knee, sitting on the writing pad, and rubbing its teeth up and down his pen.

We are proposing to send Christmas greeting telegrams to Highways and to Winnipeg. I hope they will have reached you safely.

In Bombay I bought myself an excellent History of South Africa, and there were a good collection of books on South Africa in the ships library, so I have been busy eliminating my ignorance. There are so many problems in this country, that many books have been written, and there is much to grasp. If I cannot do war work, I shall try to get hold of more books to read.

Greetings and best love to you all
LJT


From LJT to Annette

c/o The Standard Bank of South Africa
Cape Town
Dec 8th 1942

My darling Annette

This is not an easy ship on which to write letters, that is in her present role as a trooper – both the one lounge and the deck are some what crowded and though it is possible to retire to ones cabin, I have not felt very much inclined to do so since we are rather far forward and one feels the motion of the ship much more there than amidships. We have had nothing approaching rough weather, but since the second day out there has been a distinct movement.

The days are slipping by quickly – I have kept up to date with washing and ironing and done some mending – Most of the rest of my time has been spent in reading. I was given that enormous novel “The Sun is my Undoing” by Margarinte Steen, which I have read in bed at nights and in the early morning, and in the day I have been busy with books on South Africa. We bought a History of S Africa (Social and economical) by Professor Kiewiet, which is very good indeed, and I have got from the Library “Outlanders” by Vulliamy, which gives the political and personal history – very interesting. These books make me realize what a frightfully jingo attitude my family must have had during and after the South African War. I was brought up to look upon Kruger as an arch devil, though rather comic, withal and all boers as necessarily dreadful people. It’s a pity we had to climb to Empire on such talk and a calm disregard for the life and property of natives – The answer to that is that if we had not walked into native territories, other nations certainly would have done so and did, wherever there was a vacant space. What is more they subsequently treated the black races far worse than we did. The consequence or reading “The Sun is my Undoing” is to renew my thankfulness that I was not born to live in the England of the Georges and of the African books that I came too late for the last half of the Victorian age – the age which so many old people still look back to as being a sort of golden epoch – Whatever people may say, I do think our present outlook is an improvement on the general attitude of those days – There are still plenty of selfish and greedy people about but I think there are a far greater number who honestly desire good for other classes in their own country and for other countries, even though it means they will have less money themselves.

Dad is restless. He gets tired if he does much, but bored when he does nothing – He is spending a good deal of time on his typing, too much, I sometimes think, for its inclined to make the back tired when you have to sit on an unsuitable chair; perched on a cushion. HD said a shrewd thing of him, apropos of typing “Dont you realize that Herbert is always improving the scaffolding after the building is finished.”

I’ll leave a little space to add a few lines after we arrive – Best love – Mother

13/12/42
Practically all there is to say, I have put into the family letter -


Family letter from HPV

Capetown.
December 13th. Sunday

My dear Annette (name handwritten)

How admirable the loyalty of Joan, who has abstained from saying in her letter a thing that I revealed to her, that I was sick on the day when it was rough on the voyage out here!

She has not told of certain things at Juhu. Such as that there was a pig named Gladys at the hotel, brought up from its early days there and the constant playmate of the dog; we noticed that on the day when the dog was washed it was rejected and driven off by Gladys who obviously did not know him in such a state of grace. Also one day when I was looking out over the sea I saw a great fish, a mile out or more, leap clean out of the water and fall slap on its back; not once or twice only but seven times. Maybe it was a dolphin, for of these we had seen many, and maybe it was tortured with some form of vermin as whales are said to be. But it was a strange sight. One morning when I looked out at 7 o’clock (5 o’clock suntime, or nearly so) I saw the moon set so red that for a moment, forgetting the points of the compass, I thought that it was the sun rising; and the next evening the sun set as pale a yellow as the moon, and I cannot think why.

There was a display of stars one morning which surpassed the records. In the midst the full moon; round it first-magnitude stars and two planets which happened to fall exactly in the circle --- Sirius, Procyon, the twins, Jupiter, Capella, Aldebaran and near it Saturn, and lastly Rigel. The whole of Orion was like a clock-hand pointing to the moon. Very fine.

In a previous letter I mentioned the strange patterns made on the sand by the small crabs, as of trees and birds and butterflies; afterwards we found different and perhaps better made by sea-shells dragging themselves along in the ooze which appeared at very low tide, -- imitating the characters on Mah-Jong tiles and the animal pictures drawn on cave-walls by prehistoric man. Strange to say little Indian children though equipped with spades and buckets by rich fathers do not make sand-castles; meanly as if already scorning to soil their hands by wor, they merely draw patterns on the sand, concentric or interlacing circles, and so reduce themselves to the level of crabs and shell-fish.

There was a Pepys in the hotel in which I came upon the pleasant tale that “6th April 1661 among other things did meet with Mr. Townsend who told of his mistake the other day to put both his legs through one of his knees of his breeches and sent so all day.” I am glad that he had an s in his name; both because such absent-mindedness would be a scandal in the family and because he was doubtless a liar.

And talking of liars the young B.I. officer in the cabin next to ours on our recent voyage told us a tale which I should entitle “Some cats are Buns” if I wrote it up for the Saturday Pop. Whenever, he says, a ship comes into port the cats come aboard, no matter what is done to stop them; when they sail a selection of the cats come along on the ship and when they reach their destination the cats move off, look round and stay ashore of come aboard again according as the place strikes them. Thus they bum around from Liverpool to New York, from New York to Sydney, from Sydney to Capetown as the case may be; and so all the cats of the world are likely in the long run to become one family.

(handwritten at bottom of typed letter)
Dec 15th 1942

Typing is curiously difficult in a hotel: and I did not get the opportunity to finish this. A bundle of letters awaited us yesterday when we went into Capetown (20 minutes electric train) to establish relations with the Bank. How sad that a mistake in the cable should have led you all to believe that we should be home by now! As I feel the cold even in this hot south African summer, heaven knows what would have been my state in an English winter. It looks as if I would have to procure quilted clothes like a Chink before venturing home.

Much love
Dad

Airgraph from LJT to Annette (addressed to Miss Annette Townend Post Box 222. SW70 Howick Place London SW1 England)

15.12.42

Darling Annette. Thank you for A-G of 17.10, which has been waiting for us since 13.11.42. What a pity our cable was wrongly transmitted & gave you a false impression that we were coming straight home. I much hope we shall be able to come before 1943 runs out, but it will depend on the War & Dad’s health. For general news, see my A-G to Aunt. Our voyage was wonderfully quick & comfortable. The weather here is unbelievably beautiful, & should put new life into Papa. Cape Town so crowded for Summer holidays that almost impossible to get accomodation, so we go 50 miles up country to a fruit-farm guest house on 28th Dec, for a month or more. On the boat I began to read what I could of Africa’s history and problems, which do indeed seem to be legion. I hope to buy a few & borrow other books to take to the farm with us, so that if I cannot do a job for the moment, I can at least try to learn something about the country & be better able to tackle any work that may turn up later. My friend Mrs Forsythe from Calcutta, is doing publicity work for the Union Govt, has been expecting me & is full of ideas about jobs for me to do. Its lucky she is here & can put me in touch with the right people as soon as we are able to come back to Cape.T. The W.A.Cs are extremely active here, & the city is full of women in uniform. They are working as conductors on the trams, buses & electric trains too. From the little I have heard & seen in the papers here, Cape T- is all in favour of Gen Smuts’ idea of allowing S.A. Troops to go overseas. There was a great day the morning we arrived, when troops from Madascar came home & were given an official welcome by the city. There are lots of things I should like to see here. A Ballet Club gives performances fairly often. There is a municipal symphony orchestra which gives a classical concert every Thursday Evening, & a concert of lighter music every Sunday. At The little Theatre there is a Repertory Company which is said to be good, so there should be plenty to enjoy on a rather higher intellectual level than the average cinema. I am so anxious to hear how your eye feels now & whether the operation was really a success. No doubt letters have gone to India with that news in them, but they will follow us. H.D has been instructed to open & read mail letters before forwarding them. His presence in Calcutta has simplified so many of our arrangements, & anything he undertakes he does so well & with the minimum of fuss. People dress much more smartly here than we attempt to do now in India. Also they wear stockings, hats, & gloves, for the most part, though one sees quite a sprinkling of the younger people without. Stockings are difficult to get & it is only allowed to purchase one pair at a time. Please send me you measurements & let me know whether there is any special thing, garment, I mean, that you want. I don’t know what the regulations are about sending parcels to England, but when we come back to Cape town I could try. Woolen clothing of some sort would be the most useful, I expect.
Dad sends love. He does not like writing A-Gs Love & blessings Mother


Family letter from HPV

c/o Standard Bank of South Africa.
Capetown.
December 20th

My dear Annette (name handwritten)

We are now established in a hotel, said to be the second best in Capetown but rather primitive; it is not so clean as one would expect any hotel to be and the service is rough and not altogether willing. Also the menu offers no choice, and the food is not too plentiful. But we are lucky as things are these days to get in anywhere and there are good points about the place such as copious hot water. It might however give us a poor impression of local standards if we had not already been at Thornton House where everything was done so well.

Thornton House had agreeable livestock. An amusing big squirrel that distended its jaws to cope with unripe fruit that to me looked like almonds but that was in fact a peach, it seems. Gay and impudent. Impudent also the family of kittens of which the most so was that which interrupted my writing last week; the owner of the establishment used to whistle to call them to their meals and they tore round the bushes in the garden at the first note, in an abandon of speed never seen before in any but a hunted cat. Pleasant to see them sitting round their bowl and waiting till the meal was cool enough to touch; no affectation of indifference on their part! Birds were few as was natural with so many cats about: but in the Harvey’s house it was otherwise; they came to the windows and onto the verandah, sure of their position - the garden is wired against cats and on top of the garden gate a double row of sharp nails discourages the entry of cats and threatens damage to strangers.

More repugnant to the feelings are the chameleons: we are used to such beasts, of course, but these have habits of their own which our Indian types seem to lack. One, bright green, advanced along a wire in a sort of policeman’s walk (or have I the name wrong? -- two steps forward and one back) shivering the whole time so as to mimic a leaf in the wind; very cunningly. Another small with yellow blotches on bright green blended with the leaves of a rose bush so well that if a cat had not invited our attention to it we should not have spied it at all. It is relevant to mention that the small girl, Wendie who greeted us on our first evening almost nude with the excited information that she was going to have a bath, instructed me that crocodiles live to be 1000 and supported it by a reference to a natural history book. The household parrot that had been lost was restored to the bosom of Wendie and her brother after three days; I think that it would have had a more peaceful life in the new home that it had found for itself.

That exhausts my remarks on the natural history of South Africa unless I add that I swatted at least a daily dozen of flies in the bedroom (here there are none to speak of) and that my proposal to give a grain of Bemax to an ant which appeared on the breakfast table was vetoed as absurd. But I have forgotten the mouse which came out from under the dressing table and attempted to escape notice by remaining still and staring at us. Either I know little about mice (and I do know very little) or it had unusually large ears.

Moving from the subject of animals tothat of pets, let me mention the gentleman in charge of the treasury here. Unable to give me any information about my drawing of leave-pay except that it would be managed direct from Pretoria, he took leave of me cordially, saying in an ingenuous way “But I have been of real help, haven’t I?, by being able to say at once that I couldn’t help.” How true and how rarely realized!

Since I landed I have progressed somewhat in strength, I think. Anyhow, without undue fatigue I walked to and round a park one afternoon, -- small but with admirable trees, many Indian, --to another and a short distance in it the next afternoon, about an hour’s walking in all, and from a neighbouring station to Rhodes’ house and back on the third day. A most interesting house with a superb show of Hydrangeas alongside it. But it was a grief to see them burning rubbish instead of composting it. The method advocated in the local Botanical Society Journal for composting differs from that which I followed in India, so radically that I doubt whether the object is the same. No earth, no wood-ash, practically no mixing to start with, and heaps much too high according to our theories: however the descriptions of the time it takes to compost indicates that their ideas are effective.

At that stage I had to stop for some reason, probably a meal; and resuming next day I find that there is no time to finish my Petite Histoire of the week’s doings. Numerous mistakes in this have shaken my belief that my practice has had a good effect on my typing; but I shall continue.

Much love
Dad


Family letter from LJT No 46

The International Hotel
Cape Town. Dec. 20th, 1942

My dears,

Now we are in the City which is convenient, but we don’t like the Hotel very much. It is supposed to rank as Cape Town’s No 2 Hotel, but it seems to us very fifth rate, and nothing like up to the New Zealand and Australian standards of town and country hotels. However it will do us quite well for ten days, and we are lucky to get in anywhere. There is a splendid wide verandah, or stoop, as they are called here, in front, which is pleasant in the day time, and there are spacious lounges, which are quite comfortable, but from about 6 o’clock on crowds of people come in from outside, and stoop and lounges are filled with rather noisy parties drinking beer. There is no place for residents to go where they can be quiet and get away from the smell of beer. Some people from the boat are staying at the premier hotel, the Mount Nelson, and are not much impressed with it. The general impression I get from what I hear is that there are a great many excellent Private Hotels and Boarding Houses, but that the licensed hotels attend chiefly to people who come and drink, and dont find it necessary to bother much about the comfort of the guests who stay in the hotel. The local people obviously dont expect anything else.

We enjoyed our six days at Thornton House, Kenilworth, but they could not fit us in anywhere after the eighteenth, so we had to pack up and come in here on Friday morning. Even the week we have been in S. Africa has done Herbert good. He seems to me to be able to do more without getting tired. We lived quietly at Thornton House. On the Monday we came into town fairly early and went to the Bank to pick up letters and establish our credit with them. There were a nice bunch of letters waiting for us, from England, from Canada and from India. I am sorry our cable to Highways was wrongly delivered, so that the impression was given that we were coming straight home. It was thoughtful to send a cable explaining the error.

In the Bank I met my friend Mrs Forsyth from Calcutta, with whom I specially wanted to get in touch. Her husband had told her that we were coming and that I wanted to work. She says she has half a dozen jobs for me, but alas! they will have to wait till we can get accomodation in Cape Town. Mrs Forsyth herself has just managed to get a little house in the sea-side suburb, Sea Point, where we are going to tea with her to-day. She is doing publicity work for the Union Government, and seems to have collected a large circle of friends during the eleven months she has been here. Perhaps she would be able to help us to find a flat or house to which we could come in a couple of months time, when the holiday rush is over. Mrs Harvey tells us that March, April, and May are delightful months here, so perhaps we could fix ourselves up till the middle or end of April and leave ourselves free to consider the possibilities of going Home in May. Its too difficult to prophecy about that yet, for so many factors come into it, chiefly the progress of the War. Things have been looking cheerful the last few days, and hope springs strong that the New year, so soon due, will see the end of it.

Herbert went back to Thornton House to lunch on Monday, but I went to lunch with the very charming Secretary of the Settlers Club, Miss Barrow. I then walked across the pretty Municipal Gardens to this hotel to clinch the arrangement made over the telephone, purchased one or two trifling things in the shops and got home for tea.

We lived quietly at Kenilworth, writing, sewing, and reading in the garden, going walks in different parks and gardens in the evenings, and generally going round to the Harveys for a chat and to listen to the 6 o’clock news. Mrs Harvey took us to see Rhodes’ House, Groote Schuur on Thursday Morning. We only had to go two or three stations towards Town by the electric railway to get there. Rhodes left the house and the huge estate to the nation. The house is now the Cape Town residence of the Prime Minister, and is just being got ready for General Smuts, who comes into residence there when Parliament opens here after Christmas. It is a beautiful old house, full on interesting books, and beautiful old furniture, china and brass. It is wood paneled all through and the ceilings are wood too, so that in dull weather it must be a little dark, but it looked beautiful on Thursday when the sun was brilliant.

The man who is in charge of the House took us round, and was most interesting. He told us how the memorable cabinet meeting at which the decision whether South Africa would come into the war was taken, took place in the drawing room, and how no one knew what the result would be, till Smuts walked out with his following of six, leaving a minority inside. Mrs Harvey added an interesting little postscript to the account. When a special edition of the papers came out with the news in them, she was in a tram. Some one bought a paper and read out the decision. Everyone in the tram was so excited that they all talked to one another, and forgot any sort of formality.

I like seeing houses where great personalities live or have lived. Rhodes was interested in every detail of his home, according to our guide, and every new treasure he purchased he placed himself, often after trying it in a number of places. His books are interesting. History, ancient civilizations, and a large number of typewritten volumes of English translations of all the classical authorities used by Gibbon. A party of scholars were given the task of making the translations, and one of the big publishing firms had them typed and bound in scarlet leather.

His bedroom is just as he left it. The bow window looks across a horseshoe shaped dell entirely filled with Hydrangeas (in full flower at the moment) to Table Mt, on the slopes of which the whole great estate lies. We did not go far afield. The Zoo, the university and a big hospital are all on the estate, and still leave big tracts of park and pine woods. We shall have to explore these other parts of it later on. Evidently Rhodes had a great admiration for Napoleon. On top of one of his bookshelves stands a charming little statue of Napoleon, about a foot high, and beside it a clock which was said to be in Napoleon’s room when he died. It is still going and keeps good time.

In the bedroom which is being got ready for General Smuts, I noticed lots of books on modern political and social problems in different countries, with India well represented. I also noticed some presses for drying flowers, and learnt that the General is a keen botanist.

From Mrs Harvey I got the loan of a book on S.African birds, of which there seem to be incredible quantities, and which comprise many which migrate to Africa from the European winter. There are so many that I felt quite discouraged, for it seems impossible to hope to recognize many.

A charming old lady, one Mrs Pegram, who has lived at Thornton House for years, finding that I am interested in flowers, invited me to her room, and allowed me to spend a morning looking at six volumes of the Flora of South Africa, with quantities of colored plates. It was most interesting. Mrs Pegram herself paints flowers well, and comes of a family of artists. She married into another family of artists. Her late husband was an architect. One of his brothers was a sculptor, and amongst other things made the memorial of Rhodes which stands in the municipal gardens here. Another brother was a Punch artist, and a third was an R.A. and earned his living by his brush and his chisel.

All the inhabitants of Thornton House were friendly and helpful. Two ladies had recently stayed at the fruit farm we are going to and speak warmly of it. Mr. Gordon lost her husband last July, and has got someone to manage the farm, while she herself runs the big house and a little bungalow as a Guest House, so I hope our visit there will be a success.

We were sorry to have to pack and come down here on Friday, but everything has its compensations. I have been able to find out what the shops are like, and realize that though they have a superficial appearance of big stocks, in reality the goods are extremely limited. I wanted a plain shady hat, for one needs shade from the brilliant sun. Always difficult to fit because of the large size of my head, I was lucky at last in getting a sort of wide brimmed panama, which looks nice and is comfortable. I needed a little sports coat to put on over thin frocks in the chilly mornings and evenings, and had a tremendous hunt before I got one in white flannel, and then I had to pay a lot for it. My idea that woollen things would be fairly easily obtainable here is entirely false.

Our only expedition so far has been to go by the trackless tram up to Kloof Nek, a saddle between Table Mountain and The Lions’ Head. There are lovely views over the two oceans from there, and several good walks, but we only did a small reconnaissance, exploring short distances along different roads.

So far we have found the famous S.African fruit disappointing, but I believe the full season is not in yet. In normal times we are told that the best of the fruit is shipped to England, and the second best goes to Johannesburg, leaving only the residue for Cape Town. The hotels give very little fruit, so we buy a little on our own.

Dec 21st. I was writing in the lounge yesterday, and had to stop when people came in. Since then we have spent an afternoon with Mrs Forsyth in the quaint little house, which has been taken over by the local Government with the idea of turning the ground on which it stands, plus the grounds, into a playing field. They lack the funds to do this till the end of the war, and as a great concession she has been allowed to have part of the house. It is ramshackle and rather queer, but much more fun for the children than living in a hotel. We met some nice people there, and one of them, a Mrs Cautley drove us home, and has invited us to spend the afternoon of the 26th with her. I am going out to Mrs Forsyth’s to-morrow as she thinks she can put me on to some rooms in a private hotel which might suit us later on. She has an extremely vivacious intellect, and it was amusing to hear some of her impressions of this country. She seems to know lots of interesting people, many of whom she wants us to meet when we return to Cape Town, so it would be an advantage to be at Sea Point, near her.

This morning we caught a bus at 9.15 in the town, to take us to the Botanical Gardens at Kirstenbosch. It was a drive of about eight miles, and much of the way it was pretty park land. The gardens are beautifully placed on the South East slopes of Table Mountain, and the surroundings are to all appearances, quite wild. S. Africa is a country which evidently has its great flowering in a burst in the spring, and most of the flowers are over now. The famous proteas which occur here and in Australia, are almost done, but a few blossoms linger here and there. The same with the beautiful heaths, which grow in such variety and abundance in the country, but we had the pleasure of watching brilliantly coloured honey-suckers drinking out of the bushes that were still blooming. The little birds did not seem at all shy. There were big grey squirrels about too, who seemed used to humans, and continued breaking up the fir cones to get the nuts till we got quite close. Table Mt and The Twelve Apostles, which run on from it down the peninsular, are largely covered with imported firs and pines now. These trees have gradually driven out the Silver Leaf (a Protea) which used to cover the hill sides and many people have a sentimental regret. Others point out that the pines are useful for timber whereas the Silver Leaf was no use except to look at. It is peculiar to the Cape Peninsular, and it is said that it will not thrive anywhere else. Still I dont think there is much danger of it dying out, for so many people treasure it in their gardens.

Herbert and I have just been amused by fish carts driving through the streets, announcing their coming by the blowing of a shrill trumpet. The housewives or maids come to the door, and ask what is to be had, and so the bargaining goes on.

Today was the most ambitious and longest outing that Herbert has attempted, and he stood up to it very well. He is resting now, and after tea we plan to visit a second had book shop I found, and try to find a few books to take up country with us. The shop has a whole room full of books on Africa, which I chiefly want. I have just remembered that I have Bous’s last Christmas and birthday presents to spend, so I can enjoy myself.

From the window where I am writing I get a nice peep across the bay, somewhat marred by cranes and warehouses in the foreground. It looks better from a little higher up the hill behind us, where one gets above these things, and from a road above a tree-bordered reservoir, one sees the blue water and the distant mountains with a foreground of tree tops. There is an interesting relief map of Cape Province in the Tourist Bureau, which I go I and look at every now and again. It is interesting to see the fertile belt between the coast and the mountains, dotted with towns, roads and railways, and the arid, empty country further in. It should be interesting to see the contrast from the air.

There is great grief here over the death of General Dan Pienaar and his companions in the air crash. How tragic for the belongings of all of them, who were preparing their Christmas welcome.

We dont look forward very much to Christmas night in this hotel. We have grave fears that it may prove a very beery festival! All the same, however strong the atmosphere of beer surrounding us, we shall be thinking of all of you, scattered round the world.

Best love, and the best of good wishes for 1943 to all of you.
LJT
(handwritten addition in pencil – My darling Annette – I’m intending to send Air graphs on alternate weeks to you and to Aunt – so am not sending personal letters – Best love – Mother)

Airgraph from LJT to Annette (addressed to Miss Annette Townend. P.O. Box 222. S.W70 Howick Place London. S.W 1 England
Sender’s address c/o Standard Bank. Cape Town. S.Africa

1942 Christmas Day.

My darling Annette. Needless to say you are all constantly in our thoughts to-day. At breakfast when kindly neighbours wished us “Happy Christmas” I felt tears springing up at the back of my eyes, as thoughts of Richard filled my mind. Don’t think from that we have been unhappy to-day. To let ourselves be miserable would not help him if he is still alive, and he will not wish it if he has not survived. I wonder whether you got home leave. It was an excellent idea of yours to take the Drakes to a show in town as my birthday treat. It often worries me that I can do nothing to show the friends who so hospitable to you, any recognition of appreciation. Let us hope the time will not be long delayed when it will be possible. Now to news. Mrs Forsyth, my Calcutta friend, has helped me to get what seems an exceedingly nice little suite of big bedroom, small sitting room and private verandah on the 1st floor of a new small private hotel at Sea Point, the seaside suburb only ten minutes by bus from the centre of the town. She was in treaty for these rooms when she managed to get her little house. The hotel, Graham Lodge, is being run by a pleasant old man, who has retired from running two large hotels, but finds he hates doing nothing. He has a lot of furniture stored & says if we don’t like what is in the rooms we can see if there are things in the store we should prefer. All this for an inclusive rate of 30 gns a month. Our rooms all look out to sea, over a single storied building. In certain ways it is an advantage being one road back from the front, as it will be less noisy. Sea Point is a long narrow district, with hills rising up behind, over which we can walk. The road on along the coast is also pretty. We have booked the rooms from the middle of February. That will give us six weeks at Elgin. It will be convenient for me to get into Cape Town to do a job, & the little sitting room will give Dad the chance to spread out his papers, & do some writing if he feels like it. I am glad to have this settled. Mrs F. knows many interesting people she wants us to meet, so life should not be dull. Dad is looking much better since we arrived in this country, and can do more. This hotel with its beery atmosphere is not congenial, but the stay here has been useful, & has enabled us to house hunt, shop, & repack. From a shop called Stutterfords’ I have sent off food parcels to you, Aunt, Uncle Bous, & Len. Yours contains chocolate, raisens, crystallized fruit chips, which I hope is a suitable choice. After one or two windy days, it is still & hot to-day, but not oppressive. We went to Sea Point to see Mrs F & the children this morning, strolled along the front showed Dad the outside of our future temporary home, & got back for lunch. We shall probably walk in the botanical gardens, only five minutes away from this hotel after tea, & amuse ourselves by looking at the delightful little birds in the aviaries there. We are joining forces with a couple who came over on the ship with us & a woman from Durban with whom we have made friends for dinner to-night. Love to all. Will you send this to Aunt?
27.12.42 My fiftieth birthday, to-day. Seems odd somehow! Mother


Family letter from HPV

c/o Standard Bank of S.A.
Capetown.
December 29th 1942

My dear Annette, (name handwritten)

We are now established at a farm at Elgin some 60 miles or maybe less from Capetown. A vast improvement on the International Hotel, which we were glad to leave. My letter writing fell off while we were there and the use of the typewriter was almost impossible; there was a door from our room into the next and in the next there lived an oldish invalid lady who became peeved at the noise of typing and complained to her parrot about it. Joan would have encouraged me to neglect these vicarious complaints and type as I pleased, but I felt sorry for the old thing and abstained. So long as we were in hotels I was unable to settle down to anything in particular, though at Thornton House I did finish copying out my Malay sentences which Mary Ow had given me in Java and incorporated them safely in the little vocabulary given to me on the Dutch steamer on the voyage from Sourabaya to Sydney. Also in the Hotel I had some interpretations from a refugee from Singapore. Besides, I copied out in a form suitable for stitching in a file cover the ‘all-the-alphabet’ sentences out of the primers and specially invented, as is known to the family. It would almost seem when count is taken of all the zoological observations recorded in my last letter that I was busy at Thornton House; but it would not be true to claim it.

Joan firmly set herself to teach the International Hotel how a hotel should be run, but their affection for stale beer smells was innate or ineradicable anyhow. The waitress in the dining room was raw, and I suspect that her knowledge of English was small. Whenever anything was ordered she repeated it in a tone indicating astonishment if not actual disbelief; and she remembered nothing from day to day.

The wedding on the day of our arrival (?) was rather amusing to watch, or rather the reception after the wedding. The bridegroom was the son of the house, a handsome selfish-looking airforce officer who has a brilliant record and whose head appears on the air-mail stamps. In the middle of the dancing, who should walk across the dance-floor but two darkies bearing a huge cheese and a box of groceries? the cheese made one think of the mummy-at-the-feast ceremony of Egypt.

Talking of Eghpt, . . . we were being told the names of the twins here, two boys of about 15, and had been told one was called Antony; I made the futile comment that the other was no doubt named Cleopatra, by way of teasing them. The result was a flop. One commented that he had heard of Cleopatra but did not know what it was; the other knew that it was the name of a rather bad type of apple. Also that there was a needle. Though the house is full of books and the family obviously cultured. Mrs Gordon who is the hostess says that it is hard to get boys to read in South Africa because it is always so fine out of doors that they do not want to sit about and read.

Apologies to those who get carbon copies of this. Typing in the wind and not looking at the paper I escaped my own notice in allowing them to become tangled and the attempts to put them straight have not succeeded.

Comment overheard at the hotel from a group where introductions were being effected “You knew his father, Flippy Loo.” It took my fancy. You would have laughed to see us standing in the road, looking at the view of the harbour far below ostensibly but actually listening to the wireless in a house that we were passing; such is the effect of no-newspapers from Christmas morning for two days and no wireless in the hotel. There is no wireless here because there is no electricity; the batteries in the house electrical equipment have worn out and there is no chance of replacing them till the war ends.

There is a blackout in Capetown but it is cheerfully disregarded by many houses as it was in Calcutta; from our windows there were many lighted windows to be seen and in particular lighted skylights ….. presumably a demonstration of disapproval of the war. News of the bombing of Calcutta makes me sorry that it happened after we left; I should have liked to see how my officers stood up to it. They were convinced that there would be no bombing and thought lightly of my warnings that with the cold weather the bombers would certainly come over. Did you see in the papers the news that the ship which we should have been on if we had not had the luck to get a transfer to one running direct to our destination had been sunk? We were certainly lucky.

(handwritten addition) The cable of Christmas greetings has just arrived: very welcome
Much love
Dad


Family letter from LJT No 47

From Mrs. HPV Townend c/o Standard Bank. Cape Town

“Drumearn”. Elgin.
Cape Province.

December 29th 1942.

My Dears,

When we move from place to place in new countries, I feel I have to draw a deep breath before starting a letter. Its hard to know how much will interest you, and how to convey true impressions of what we have seen. One impression is self evident all around me. We have come to a beautiful spot. The district of Elgin lies on the Eastern slopes of the Hottentot Mts. We see jagged lines of rocky hill tops on three sides of us. From the big relief map in the Tourists’ Bureau in Cape Town I know that we are in a tilted saucer of the hills, with the sea hidden from us, but not far away to the South. This house is at an altitude of about a thousand feet, and the air is glorious. The country round is devoted to fruit growing, but gives the impressions of being forest, for each section of fruit has wind breaks of pines or gums all round it. Figs are just ripe, and we are encouraged to eat all we can. Peaches are coming in, and so are apricots and plums. The apples and pears are a long way from being ripe yet. When the big dishes of fruit are put on the table, there comes the inevitable thought: “If only we could send this to England.”

Our thoughts were with you all on Christmas Day. We went by tram to Sea Point in the morning, and strolled along the sea front, turning up a side road to show Herbert the outside of the rooms we have booked in a small private hotel from the middle of Feb. Mrs Forsyth had been in treaty for these rooms before she got her little house. There is a big bedroom, a small sitting room and a private verandah on the first floor. Although we are one road back from the front, we look out to sea over the roof of the single storied building. I think we are lucky to get this accomodation, for its said to be extremely difficult to get anything in the way of a sitting room unless one pays an almost prohibitive price. Mr Greenberg is charging us 30 guineas a Month, with no extras for morning tea, or any of the many other “teas” which are served as a matter of course in this country, just as they are in New Zealand. A good tram service takes on into the centre of the town in ten minutes, so I can conveniently do a war job from there. Herbert will have space to unpack his papers and write if he feels like it. It is nice to have something settled. Six or seven weeks in the glorious air here should do much to pull up his strength. He looks a great deal better than he did when we left Calcutta, and can do considerably more without becoming completely exhausted.

We finished up our Christmas morning by having drinks with Mrs Forsyth and got back to the hotel just in time for lunch. Dinner in the evening was a cheerful and pleasant meal, contrary to our expectations. Apparently the bars were closed, except to people living in the hotel. The management had received their last years’ Christmas decorations too late to be used, so they came in for this years’ celebrations. The dining room looked gay with baloons and such. Each person had one of the little fancy hats that are such a vogue, and there were crackers and those little colored balls, intended for pelting ones neighbours, on each table. We joined forces with an elderly couple who had been on the ship with us, and a woman from Durban with whom we had made rather friends. So much time was spent in sending fusilades at neighbouring tables that it was difficult to find time to eat. It all made for merriment, and we drank your healths in a pleasant S. African wine. I could not help thinking of the men fighting in all sorts of bits of the world, and wishing some of our luxuries could be transferred to them.

Christmas week was not an ideal time for sightseeing or for making contact with people, and as we knew we were coming back in a few weeks time we did not do much, not even attempting the ascent of Table Mt by the funicular. We spent quite a lot of time walking in the botanical gardens near the hotel, not to be confused with the big botanical gardens out at Kirstenbosh. Herbert loved the aviaries full of small birds, in the centre of the gardens, and indeed they were most charming and amusing. We visited the Art Gallery, which is a nice little gallery, but has not got much of note in the way of pictures in it. The S African room is of some interest, but the standard is nothing like so high as in the Art Gallery at Sydney. It seemed to us that many of the Australian artists had great power and originality. You felt they had something definite to say about the country. On the day before we left we went to the museum, which has a most extremely interesting series of casts, from the life, of different types of Bushmen, and of the arts they practiced. The place was so crowded with Cape Coloured People in holiday mood, that we did not stay very long, but we intend to go back again. There is a whole room full of rock paintings and rock engravings, which bear a close resemblance to some of the prehistoric drawings from Spain and France.

The nice Mrs Cantley, who drove us home from Mrs Forsyth’s on the first evening we met her, invited us to tea on the 26th, and we spent a delightful afternoon at her house. They live in one of the more country suburbs, and have a big garden. Her husband, an Irishman by birth, but S. African by adoption, is a lively and attractive person, keen on many things. His study in which we were given drinks before we left, was lined with boots, and wherever ones eye rested, there were volumes one would have liked to pull out and read. He had books on Australia I had utterly failed to get in Calcutta, and offered to lend them to me, but I did not like to bring books away from Cape Town, so refused for the moment, but asked that I might borrow them later when we return. I am glad to have seen, and been in, such a charming home, for our beery hotel was giving us rather a poor impression of Africa.

Lovely days often ended with strong south-easterly winds, and some evenings we had to shut our window all but a few inches, and wedge it with scraps of wood to prevent it from rattling and keeping us awake. The south-easterly busters are a feature of the Cape Town summer, and can be rather trying, Mrs Gordon, our hostess here, says they do not feel them in Elgin, or only moderately.

The only train for Elgin left Cape Town rather early, i.e. 8.35 a.m. Since it was the first open day after the Christmas holidays, we feared the train might be dreadfully full, and detirmined to get down to the station in good time. At eight o’clock we were none too early to secure corner seats on the non-corridor side of the train. I am not sure that we did not get the last two facing one another, but the carriage never got more than its allotted three aside. The journey of fifty miles takes three hours, but a lot of time is spent at various stations where branch lines join in. The climb over the mountains is slow, and must give far better chances to enjoy the superb view than would be possible from a car. One looks down on False Bay, with edges of that brilliant blue-green which always makes me think of the Cornish sea seen from the cliff-tops. The steep peaks of the Hottentot Mts runs down its eastern arm, cut off in cliffs above the water. Away on the other side of the Bay stands Table Mt. so distinctive in shape. It is on the steep sides of the mountains that there masses of splendid wild flowers, most of them past their flowering season now, alas. I dont know the altitude of the Sir Lowry Pass over which the road and railway both curl, but at a guess I should say its about 2,000 ft. The descent on the east is less steep than the ascent on the west, and the country is different. One runs into forest at once, always pines and gums. I cant get any information about indigenous trees, but the general opinion is that in this part of Africa there were no good forest trees, only scrub which was of no practical use, and that is why exotics have been introduced. They flourish amazingly.

30.12.42. There were many interruptions yesterday morning, and in the afternoon I did not like to type in case the noise should disturb other people. After tea a Mrs iron who is staying here offered to take us for a drive in her car. She was ill for half the month, so had a little spare petrol. There is a first class tarmac road running through Elgin and on to the east coast, and the scenery is lovely. We climbed a pass over the rim of our saucer only to get into more rolling country, with jagged mountains to north and south, as well as groups for ahead. The pass marks the transition from fruit growing country into grain country. The harvest has been gathered, but the colours of the different soils contrasted with the stubbles, made a pattern of delicate pastel shades, shown up by belts of dark firs or grey green gums, against the background of blue-grey mountains, and little feathery white clouds in the bright blue sky.

On our return journey over the pass, we stopped and spent a little time looking at the plants and watching some delightful birds with long tails. The wind was strong and these creature balanced on the end of swinging branches with apparent difficulty, their long sweeping tails blowing in all directions in what must have been a disconcerting fashion.

It is forbidden by law to pick the wild flowers on government land. The natural vegetation was being exterminated by the flower sellers of Cape Town, who battened on the wild flowers ruthlessly, coming out to all these wild places to get their supplies for the Cape Town flower markets. There is still great difficulty in controlling them, for some agent rents or buys a small piece of land adjoining some open country, leaves it to the wild flowers, and asserts that flowers sold by the market people come off his property. The Botanical Society are trying to create a boycott of the wild flowers in the street markets, but public opinion will take a lot of training before people will deny themselves beautiful blossoms at moderate rates, for the sake of an ideal.

We like this place immensely. The family consists of Mr. Gordon, who is a South African, but was educated in England, and whose late husband was an Englishman retired from the Army. Her daughter, a girl about twenty, recently married to a naval man, and twin boys of fifteen, nice unaffected boys, who are neither spoilt nor shy, and who can only be told apart by the fact that one parts his hair on the right and the other on the left. There are only two other guests staying in the house, both elderly ladies, neither of them very exciting, but nice folk. The two cottages are let to other people, who do not come into the house. The family have their own sitting-room, and are all so busy on the farm that we dont see much of them except at lunch and supper.

Our bedroom is large, light and airy, with excellent beds, and lots of big cupboards, writing table, arm-chairs etc, so we are very comfortable. Besides the guests’ sitting room, there is a verandah with plenty of comfortable chairs on it, so there is no sense of being crowded. Another nice feature of the place is the big collection of good books of all sorts. Col Gordon was a great reader, and evidently believed in keeping his mind alive. We need not have troubled to bring so much reading matter with us. The food is simple, but good and plentiful, and I have never eaten so much fruit in my life. A huge bowl of figs, luscious peaches, apricots and plums is put on the table at each meal, and one is expected to eat not one fruit but several. Another dish is put in the sitting room, for Mrs Gordon says we might like something between meals. Our luck was in when we were told of this place, and able to get accomodation, for it must be ideal for Herbert. He has already got permission to weed the flower garden, and has been doing a bit this morning. Its not so easy for untrained people to help in picking the soft fruit, for there is skill in knowing what and how to pluck, just as there is in sorting and packing. If the apples and pears were on it would be different, for those are easier to pick and anyone can do it straight away. Fruit is fetching unexpectedly high prices this year, which seems odd, when so little can be exported, but it is due to the over-crowding of South Africa, the family suppose, and lucky for them. As we get to know them better, I hope to hear more about the farm, and see more of the work.

The Mrs Iron, who took us for the drive yesterday, is a keen worker for the Navy League, and is going to try to get me some work to do. There is a tea room in the village called “Thumbs Up” run by the local people in aid of War Funds, and I am hoping I may be allowed to work there too. I shant feel quite such an idler if I can do those things.

The newspapers create a cheerful atmosphere these days. The advance of the Russians is thrilling. It seems almost incredible that they can keep it up from day to day.

We are putting down our names for passages to England as soon as possible after the end of the war, but we are told that there are enormous lists already. However I daresay some of that is talk, and no-one knows as yet what arrangements will be made to get people back to their own countries.

It was somewhat of a surprise to me to find such a large majority of the people in this country talking Afrikans. One hears far more of it in the streets and public places than one does English. Most of the tram and bus drivers and conductors, porters, postmen and so on speak English with a strong Dutch accent, and many of them seem not to understand English well. They are not at all good at giving one information, even about their own bus routes, which strikes us as such a great contrast with the Australians and New Zealanders, who are always most helpful to strangers in such ways, and very much on the spot.

At present I have not digested my ideas of Cape Province enough to express them. It is necessary to meet more people and see more places before passing on impressions.

We received a cable of Christmas love and wishes yesterday, which we should have got sooner, had not Christmas fallen on a Friday, and the Bank been closed till the Monday. Thanks to the dear ones who sent it. There was nothing on it to mark what was its country of origin, but we guess it came from Highways. Thank you all! Best love and wishes for the New Year.

LJT


From LJT to Romey

Elgin, Cape Province S. Africa
Year end 1942

My darling Romey,

It’s a long time since I wrote you an ordinary personal letter. This nice place affords us the leisure and convenience for writing, which were lacking in Cape Town.
First of all I want to talk of something that came into my mind as I was sitting sewing yesterday. Don’t you think it would be nice if you could bring a fur coat back from Canada for Annette? The idea depends primarily on money, of course. We have to consider the cost of your fare back to England. I do not know whether it will be possible to pay for a steamer ticket in London. If so, we could arrange that. Annette has worked so well and so uncomplainingly all through the war, that I think it would be lovely if you could bring her something that would be of real use and a complete surprise. I write about it now, because I have just thought about it. Naturally you won’t be able to make any definite plans about it till much nearer the time of homecoming. I hope we shall be able to go on sending the allowance from India until you get back to England.
This question of getting back to England after the war is going to be a ticklish one. It won’t be just a case of applying for a passage and getting away as soon as one wishes. It is possible that one may have to wait months before getting accommodation. We are putting our names on the lists now. I wonder whether it would be a good thing for you to do the same. If you had got a job in Canada meantime, which you could not leave at once, there would be no difficulty in postponing or canceling any offer you got. Will you try to find out whether passage money could be paid in England?
You would like this place, except that there is no swimming and no riding. There are lots of mules about the place, who draw the fruit-wagons and one or two ponies. In the garage I see a couple of saddles, which don’t look as if they have been used for some time and I hear no talk of riding.
We are to far from the mountains which surround us to be able to climb them. Perhaps it is as well, for if we were near, we should be tempted to go up and very likely Dad would overdo it.
The weather here is like the ideal English summer day, which one so seldom gets, but it’s colder directly the sun goes down. This term will be a busy one for you. When do your finals take place?

Dearest love,
Mother