1942 March
From LJT to Annette No 7
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
March 1st 1942
My darling Annette,
The Symphony orchestra in the closing concert of the season, had improved so much, that it seems a shame that the concerts should be coming to an end. The orchestra has been working under tremendous difficulties this year, and it has been almost impossible to get the entire strength together for even one full rehersal. The last half of the programme last Sunday was Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. What a glorious thing it is! Why, I wonder, does some music uplift and entrance one? And why do some people remain quite uninterested and unmoved by it, or say “Oh I am not educated up to classical music”. I believe that to be largely a chiche, which means nothing at all. If you like music you can enjoy it without being educated up to it, though I fully agree that it can certainly be enjoyed more fully by people who have a musical education. In the vestibule, as we stood about talking before we went in, I saw a very nice looking young Indian in a perfectly correct dinner jacket. We bowed and smiled at one another, and for a few minutes I could not place him. Then I realized that he was one of the clerks from our office. When he joined recently, I remember hearing that he came of a good family, and was of quite a different class from the rest of the men. He certainly seemed to be entranced by the music, and listened to every note with close attention. Its curious how a taste shared gives one a feeling of understanding with another person. Its a possible line of approach and sympathy, I suppose.
Did I tell you that Francesca Gurner has got permission to take some part of her Kindergarten training and tests out here, under a Mrs Blagdon, who till her marriage a few years ago, was Chief Inspectress of Kindergarten Institutions in England, (or something of the sort) Francesca will teach in a small school here at the same time. She has apparantly, shown something like genius in this special Line. Mrs Blagdon was to have been head of the Kindergarten dept of the New School, but she has been ill on and off almost ever since it started, and Francesca has been doing the whole thing on her own with amazing success. She is such an attractive creature, pretty to look at, steady in character, and at present, quite unspoilt.
Cyril Gurner always takes an interest in your career. I have travelled home from office on the same tram on two evenings last week and engaged in scraps of conversation with him. He always carries two or three books in his hand, in case he should want to read one or other of them. I suspect he tucks some small volume into his pocket when he goes to a dinner party, and if his hostess said to him “Do read your book, Mr Gurner”, he would draw it out with delight.
Best love, dear daughter
Mother
Family letter from HPV (not in AMT’s set of letters – this typed by Joan Webb. (rec’d Wpg May 7)
Calcutta, March 1, 1942
My dear Rosemary,
Joan went out to a movie and a dance afterwards and came in at about 1:30 and is fresh as a daisy this morning. I, who merely lay in bed till then (and a bit later) and exerted myself in no way, am nit-witted and weary. There is no justice in this.
Yesterday we did what we have meant to do for days ---- ever since the Japanese bombed Rangoon the first time and used anti-personnel bombs. We bought, and brought home by car, sandbags to make barricades in my office room in order that the servants who will retire there, should there be a raid, may be safe against splinters. There is practically no risk and the sapper officers who were here at Christmas time said that there was no need for any sandbags in that room; but we should not like to feel that it was our fault if there did happen to fall a bomb in the narrow space between the garage and the office.
So yesterday evening there was great filling of the sandbags by hand and today the task of carrying them round the house and building them up. With the risk that the mere knowledge of our having taken this precaution for their benefit may persuade some of the servants that it is now too dangerous to stay on. Overseeing the work and stamping down the bags to make nice flat rows has left me limp.
The Hot weather has come. Two days ago I moved into thin clothes. We have been lucky this year about the weather for it was cool till quite a short time ago. Now I have a cold in the nose.
Of the servants we have lost one only. The second sweeper went off because it was proposed to wash the floors. Two or three days ago the other sweeper, whom we used to have at Chinsurah, produced a telegram that his wife or mother was in a desperate condition and proposed to go on leave. It would have been disaster since this is an enormous house and we have a full complement in it. The crisis was solved by Joan’s remarking that all the sweepers in Calcutta had received telegrams that wives or mothers were dying and by her increasing the man’s pay. After consultation.
It will create consternation if a Commissioner does sweeper’s work, but the objection to my doing it is that I rather lack strength for anything. The malis were asked if they would sweep just round the house as well as the lawns and paths, which they sweep already, said that it couldn’t; honour forbade. And it is true that no Calcutta male sweeps anywhere near the house.
You may have noticed that of late I have made no mention of my brother Harry or of Winsome; it is because for weeks I have not met either of them. My intention of riding out there on the bike was defeated by my never getting round to it. Slackness perhaps. Laziness; I sit too long after tea.
The four kittens are now regular attendants at the tea and do themselves proud by eating what their mother would have eaten. She has abstained from joining the party ever since she spied the air-gun which had been brought out to scare away the crows. Not a bad thing, for it may solve the problem of how to wean the family of dependence on charity. They will be a nuisance as they grow up. The cat has taken to growling at her kittens or rather roaring at them. A sad symptom.
For a change and in the hope that laughter might cure my low temperature, low fever rather, which returned as son as the days became hot again, I went to the movies one evening. Pimpernel Smith, which Bous Bevington recommended and maybe some of the family thought it good as well. To tell the truth, I thought it poorish; because my capacity for belief in the futility of the Gestapo is limited. It was a question of waiting to see which of several routine solutions the author would adopt and that rather destroys the illusion. There were several good films on, but my known judicial prejudices against various actors and types of plot caused us to prefer the one that we did.
For two evenings I abstained altogether from using the typewriter, once because we went to the film and once because weariness forbade. But I have reverted to using the exercises to strengthen the little fingers. Of course mine lack strength, but what is mostly wrong is inability to concentrate. How dull! How dull! My letters always are and perhaps always were; but it is like golf at which one never feels that one is playing up to one’s form.
Much love,
Dad
Family Letter from LJT No 8
8 Theatre Rd.
Calcutta
March 9th 1942
My Dears,
Its been such a morning! Its already nearly 10.30, and I am only just starting my letters. Coralie Taylor’s husband, picked her up yesterday, (Saturday) and they went downriver by launch to do an inspection. They were to be back here this evening. Late last evening Bobby Taylor rang me up to say he had suddenly been ordered off on a special job, and could we give him some breakfast at 7-30, and tell his driver to have the car ready. The driver could not be found, and what was worse, he had taken away the key of the garage with him, and the second key was with our driver, who went off to Chinsurah last night to see his family. Luckily the Taylor’s driver eventually appeared about 8.15, but alas! the precious before-breakfast half hour, during which I generally attend to the day’s orders, and other household matters, had slipped away. After breakfast the vaccinator came to vaccinate everyone in the compound, not because there is any outbreak of small-pox, but just as the usual routine. I scampered round my Sunday inspection of the kitchen and compound, and after being interrupted by no less than three telephone conversations, I have at last settled down at my writing table.
There are some nice letters to thank for this week. Grace’s of Dec 23rd and 30th (not numbered!) One from Peg, one from Joyce, and one from Gavin, as well as two (Nos 43 and 44) from Romey, also written on 12th and 23rd Dec respectively, so it looks as if the letters from Canada are taking just about as long as those from England. Thanks to the writers of all these letters. You know that each letter that comes to Calcutta is really enjoyed by four people, for Harry and Winsome meet us, and we have readings, or send letters to them to see.
It was quite a while since we had seen them, so we enjoyed spending an hour or so with them last evening. Harry had been out playing golf. Herbert and I spent an hour at the Zoo, almost entirely with the birds, who are looking gorgeous now in their courting plumage. The Amherst Pheasant, one of those lovely creatures from the borderlands of China and Burma, was dancing and displaying the amazing colours and patterns of his plumage to his two wives, who would not even bother to look at him, but were far more interested in the pea-nuts they were getting from us.
Winsome as President of the Work Section of the Red Cross, is having a lot of fresh problems to tackle, and is likely to lose a good many of her workers, since this is the month in which most children are sent to the hills, and in many cases mothers have to go with them. Winsome has just been up to Tatarnugger for a weeks holiday, with Nurse and Charlotte, and feels all the better for it. She has had a strenuous time, carrying on her big job, as well as coping with the move into that big house. There was a great deal to be done in the way of repairs and alterations, and dealing with it must have meant a good deal of time and attention.
Charlotte is growing quickly, and is a nice child. She is not in the least spoilt and silly like John was. She never shows off, but is natural and perfectly calm. She has a strong will, but as it is combined with plenty of common sense, and reasonableness, it does not often come up against authority. Nurse is such a sensible woman. She would never let a child in her charge get into the silly ways that John developed out here.
There has been an attempt on the part of the Deputy Director General to get me away from Idris, and put me in charge of a section of the Directorate of Ordnance Factories. Its a section of work dealing with all the vacancies, or rather, all the staff of all the Ordnance Factories. It is a complicated business keeping absolutely up to date, and requires an elaborate system of charts and constant correspondence with the Supts of all the Factories. The man who is supposed to do it now, apparently cant get round to it. Idris stoutly refused to let me go, and I dont want to, because if I leave off the work I am doing, he will again get snowed under, and be unable to keep abreast of the stuff that is coming in. We are hoping to get Gwen Wright Nevill to do it. She has had a full office training and would do the job excellently I think. Her husband arrived last Monday evening, and they stayed a few days here, and have now gone up to Darjeeling to see the children, getting back here on Wednesday. He has been in Iran, (very cold!) and is now probably going to a special job on the N.W. Frontier, so Gwen cannot go with him. She plans to stay here in Calcutta, and do a war job. I do hope we get her, for I shall be working in close contact with whoever does that job.
We have had several people from the F.M.S. and from Burma in the office this week, and have heard a good many interesting things, and though I think most of them are true, I suppose they must be treated as rumour, and not repeated.
I feel heart-broken to think of the fighting going on all through the happy careless land of Java. How ferociously one hopes that the Japs will have to pay for all this with their own suffering, hardship and humiliation before long. I have such a vivid picture of Java, not only as we saw the eastern end when we stayed there, but as we flew right along the north coast, looking down on the prosperous plain, and across to the line of volcanoes shrouded in the morning mist. It seemed so smiling, settled and contented compared with the great empty, dried-up thirsty spaces of Australia, which we had flown over a few days previously. Naturally we watch and listen for the news from Burma almost from hour to hour with a most vital interest. There is some good news this morning, of British tanks in action for the first time. Let’s hope there are lots more to follow them!
Another meeting with our A.R.P. doctor, and with the Indian Secretary who is in charge of the A.R.P. arrangements, on Tuesday, had had a good effect, and galvanized them into some sort of life. We had a First Aid and stretcher-bearer practice on Friday evening, and it went quite well. We have arranged to have one every Friday.
I was glad to have a few quiet evenings this week, and was able to get some Himalayan Club work done, but I never seem to get round to writing letters to my friends.
We are enjoying another most welcome cool spell with fresh breezes from the north. Even three or four days like this are precious at this time of year. The papers have just begun to tell us what a fearfully cold spell England had in January. I hope it was colder still in Germany!
Best love to you all, and to those to whom I owe letters, my apologies. I assure it is neither idleness nor lack of thought that keeps me from writing, but just sheer lack of time.
LJT
From LJT to Annette and Richard typed at end of family letter
My darling Son and Daughter,
This week I am going to be lazy and write you a joint letter. There are one or two points on my mind, and please dont think me pesimistic to recognise them. Undoubtedly, should Rangoon fall, Calcutta will be bombed, and there is the chance in the million that Dad and I might be in the way of a bomb, so there are a few things I want to say. First, Anne and romey, would, in the event of Dad’s coping it, get the I.C.S. daughter’s pension, which as far as I know is about £120 per annum. Romey’s would presumably be paid to her in Canada as long as she is living there. This simplifies any arrangements immensely. The other point is this. What money and property we have, is left by both of us, to be divided in equal portions between the three of you. Presumably you would hear if anything happened to us, long before the Eastern Trust Co in Halifax, could do so. They are at present paying the interest from the money from Dad, invested with them, to Romey, or rather to Mrs Susan Magill on Romey’s behalf. I would suggest, that, (if this remote contingency comes to pass) that you should both write to the Eastern Trust as soon as the wills are proved, and instruct them to go on paying the money to Cousin Susie, while Romey or her trustee or guardian, (if she is not of age) could arrange for a similar sum due to her from my money in London to be paid to you two.
I dont want to feel that if anything should happen to us, Romey’s upkeep should be a charge on Susie, who is already doing so much.
Unfortunately our Wills are out here, and I dont know what will be the best arrangement to make about them. I must try to make a practical plan.
Dont pray think I am in the least brooding on possible future happenings for I really am not, but I have once or twice had to help deal with the affairs of people who have died unexpectedly, and have not planned for the disposal of their belongings, and it can be such a bother. I shall mention these things in a letter to Susie, but not to Romey, as I have an idea it might worry her. That poor boy Dicky, by the way, is supposed to be more capable of earning his own living than Annie, and so, (since he is over twenty-one) he does not get a pension. Daughters get it till they marry.
Two of Annie’s photos fit nicely into a pleasant little travelling black leather frame I have, and stand on the writing table. The third one I shall get framed and keep it on my dressing table. I like them all, and enjoy having the. Thank you for them, my dear Annette.
Yesterday afternoon I yielded to inclination and lay down upon my bed after lunch, sleeping for half an hour, and reading for half an hour. I again dipped into Lin Yatung’s book “In love and Irony”, and found some good things in it. Its a nice sort of book to rest with
Best love from Mother
(added to bottom of family letter)
My darling Romey,
It has been lovely to get letters from you again, for we had not had any for over a month. We all enjoyed the account of John’s birthday, and the preparations for Christmas, and I felt quite thankful that you did get your precious notebook back.
Still, sad to say, there is no sign of your photos! Still, mails do come so oddly that they still may turn up. I so long to see them. The photos of John make one realize that he has grown up a lot. He’s the regular schoolboy now.
It’s difficult for me to respond to your comments on the various branches of your work. I have never done any chemistry at all, nor zoology, and my botanical studies were of the simplest, though I have picked up something on that subject in subsequent life. Dad thinks that organic chemistry is probably like mathematics. You’ve got to know the devil of a lot before it becomes interesting. I suppose it is one of the most useful sciences in the modern world, though it is rather sad to see, in this country how many young men have taken good chemistry degrees, and then either can’t get jobs, or have to take jobs from which they get a mere pittance in the way of pay. Charles Crawford, with whom I was discussing the candidates we get, said ”I suppose you get any number of graduates with Honours in Chemistry and Science, not one of them knowing a thing that is of any practical value.” Charles is Chemical expert to I.C.I in Calcutta.
It was such a pleasant rest and relaxation to spend an hour in the Zoo yesterday, enjoying the beauty and comicality of the birds. For a time I almost forgot about the war. It is pretty heavily on our minds as you may well imagine. One of the sad things is that we are surrounded in this country with so much idiocy, and so little practical appreciation of problems. I think some of the Bengalis must be the most impractical people in the world. War conditions are showing up a lot of their weaknesses. The women have been saying why can’t they do war jobs just as much as English women. There is full permission to enroll them in the women’s corps, and Coralie Taylor has interviewed several, but when they find that they have to sign on, and put themselves under military discipline, and for the special purpose for which Mrs. Taylor is recruiting people now, they have to be prepared to take their shift at any hour of the day or night ( arranged just in the way that Annie was doing ) they sheer off. They want to choose the time at which they would like to work, and be able to cry off whenever we want. This reminds us that our Director General, (who is too old for the job) when he chances to meet me in one of the corridors, delights to tell me that he can now have me put in prison, if I don’t turn up to do my job, for the Emergency act includes voluntary workers.
Best love my darling,
Mother
From LJT to Annette No 9
March 15th 1942.
My darling Annette,
Its just as well I wrote the family letter yesterday evening, for the people from Burmah, the Gages, rang up last night, to ask if they might come to us after all, and I have been busy getting their rooms put ready. Calcutta is a filthy place, and everything gets black if it is not constantly cleaned. I thought the spare rooms looked dingy, so I have been over-seeing a regular Spring Clean. I want everything to be as nice as possible for these poor folks who have recently endured so much. They were billeted in a house, the owner of which is away, furthermore, it is in a very remote suburb created for the Bengal Nagpur Railway, and in these days of petrol shortage, getting in and out from such a place, is a great difficulty. I think they felt cut off and lonely, and found it awkward dealing with other people’s servants. We are glad to be able to help them. They have no idea what it will be best for them to do. I think Kashmir would be the best, if they could get any accommodation there. Poor Mrs Gage says its an odd and distressing feeling to walk out of one’s house, leaving everything one posseses, except what clothes one can get into a suit case, knowing almost certainly one will never see any of ones treasure again. Its a hard lesson to learn that one must not set too much store by worldly goods.
This past week I think I have felt almost as deeply moved by sorrow and anxiety as during the dreadful days of the fall of Holland, Belgium, and France. There will be some most illuminating and tragic stories to tell of what has been happening in Burmah. I don’t know why the papers are not allowed to publish what has really happened, for so many thousands of refugees have poured into India during the last few weeks, that the news of how the Burman’s have behaved must soon spread and be widely known all over the country.
The Hot Weather is settling well down on us now, and the disinclination to do anything that takes one away from a fan becomes most marked. Sorry! Dad has been virtuously writing about Life Insurance and other matters, and asking me questions, has distracted my mind. Not that I really had much in the way of thoughts to write to you. I am feeling a bit stale, and looking forward to lunch, which we shall have very soon whether Idris is in or not.
Best love, dear daughter.
Mother
Note by HPV found among the letters
On my death Annette and Rosemary will each be entitled to a pension until marriage, from the Indian Civil Service Family Pension Fund.
How much the pension is nowadays I do not know. It used to be £150 a year but this is probably more than is given nowadays as the return from investments is so much lower.
Application for the pension has to be made to the Controller of Pension Funds, India Office, Whitehall, London S-W 1 according to the copy of the Rules that I have. It has not been possible to verify here whether this is still the Officer concerned (the Rules are dated 1930 and may be out of date) but a reference to the High Commissioner for India, India House, Aldwych W.C 2 would get the information.
There is a possibility that in case of my death it will be difficult for information to get back to England quickly and I am therefore writing this now so that Annette and Rosemary will know what to do. The pensions are payable in London and whether Rosemary would be able to get the money in Canada I do not know.
H P Townend
15.3.42
Family Letter from LJT No 9
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
March 16, 1942 (rec’d Wpg Aug 18)
My Dears,
The grievous news of the evacuation of Rangoon, and of the success of the Japs in Java, has cast a heavy gloom over us this week. People who had recently come from Rangoon, had told us that they feared it would have to be abandoned, but I kept on hoping that things would take a turn for the better, and that it would be possible to hold the town. We have had several people from Burmah in the office this week. Yesterday three men came who belong to the Rangoon Port Commissioners, and who stayed behind to complete the demolition of the docks. One of them, the Chief Engineer, told me that he never seriously thought they would get away. They kept a little electric launch and it was promised that a ship would wait for them down at the mouth of the river for a certain time. They reached the ship without being attacked, and though the ship had to wait there from 5 p.m. till the middle of the night, they were not attacked either by other ships or from the air. It was something of a miracle, for they were almost within sight of Jap occupied air fields. There have been some thousands of refugees, both European and Indian arriving almost daily in Calcutta. I arrived home yesterday to find a Mr and Mrs Gage with grown-up daughter, here with Herbert. A message, sent to me, had not reached me, so I was taken quite by surprise. Mr Gage was at school with Herbert, and Herbert gave him his football colours. He was in the education service in Burmah. With his family, he was given only a few hours notice to leave Maymyo, and they just had to bring away light suit cases, and leave everything else. It seems that he knew Herbert was in Calcutta and phoned to him. We could have put them up here with a little bit of a squeeze, but they had already accepted another invitation. They are nice people, and I hope we shall see something more of them.
We had a little party arranged last night, for the Annual Fete in aid of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. As a rule, it takes place in the grounds of the Viceroy’s House, but that was not possible with the blackout, so this year it had to be just a dance and sideshows at the Grand Hotel. I felt the strongest distaste for going to anything in the nature of a ball, when we are in such close contact with so many personal tragedies, but it was difficult to get out of it. I did not mind so much when I got there, for at least two thirds of the men were in uniform, and it was obvious that it was a relaxation for them. We were a party of six, a joint affair for which Walter Jenkins and I were responsible. We dined here, and left Herbert at home. At the hotel I noticed two nice-looking young Canadian airmen sitting at a table alone, so we asked them to come and join us. They had come over from Rangoon a week before, and had been staying in the hotel. What grieved me was that no one had asked them out or done anything for them. Unfortunately they were leaving this morning, but they may be back, so I gave them my address and told them to be sure to get in touch with me if they do. At this dance a large number of very nice girls had volunteered to act as “Hostesses” and they sat at three or four big tables, ready to dance with any of the men in uniform who asked them. We got two we knew to spend a good part of the evening with our young men. Both the lads were from Montreal, and they were fine big chaps. Why I did not think of it last night, I do not know, but I omitted to ask the lads if they knew any other men in their hotel who would like to have tea with us to-day and then go to the Saturday Club for a bathe. I tried to get hold of them this morning, but could not make contact with them. There is an organization here which deals with the entertainment of the three services, but I suppose their resources have been stretched to the utmost during the last few weeks. I hate to think of lads, especially these from the Dominions, being in a city like this and never going inside anyone’s home. I am trying to think of some satisfactory way of getting in touch with them independently.
Herbert has been feeling much below par this week, owing partly to trouble with his teeth. He has been uneasy for some time lest there should be an abscess under a certain tooth, and had an X-ray, which showed nothing. The tooth has been stopped or re-stopped, and has been giving a lot of pain. It is only to-day that he has seemed at all himself again. I have been so worried about him, that I am getting him to see a doctor here who has a good reputation for stomach and digestive troubles. He may be able to suggest something that will help him. It was his birthday on the 11th, but we did not manage to celebrate it except that by a lucky chance Winsome came in to tea.
More letters have come from England during the past week, all of dates dotted about the month of December, and including a long one from Richard written on my birthday. A sea-mail envelope of snap-shots from Romey, posted on Dec 2nd has just arrived, and the fact that it has come through in two and a half months, makes me fear more than ever that the portraits of her have been lost.
One of the men who was dining here last night, told a story that is worth repeating. He is the Government Physical Training Expert. A little while ago a candidate for a post filled in a form, and under the heading “Athletic Distinctions” he put “Won potatoe race ten years ago”. Can you beat that?
Gwen Wright Nevill is not coming to work in our office, I am sorry to say. A long time ago the second man in the Sappers office had said something about her working there, but she was at the moment tied up with her appointment in the All India girl Guide Office. She had heard nothing more of it, and thought the idea had fizzled out, but directly Col Stevens heard that she was free and contemplating another job, he put in a strong plea for her help. He says he is short handed in his office and badly needs someone to keep control of papers, and chase the Babu Clerks. If she is wanted for that sort of thing I think she is right to go there, for it is obvious that every ounce of possible efficiency should be conjured up for the Sappers. Coralie Taylor may possibly take on the job in our office.
The late cool spell has gone, and its heating up now, nothing fierce, of course, but the crispness has gone out of things.
Best love to you all
LJT
My darling Romey, (attached to family letter)
The envelope of snapshots, and the card of ring sizes, arrived yesterday evening, so it has not taken much longer than the air mail. The pictures of you are not as nice as the summer ones, but I’m glad to have them all the same. The picture of the University and the ones of 197 Harvard Avenue are very interesting. How pretty things look when they are all done up in snow! I had no idea that Harvard Avenue was so countrified. There seem to be a lovely lot of trees about. Gardening in Canada must be queer, for I suppose you can’t do anything at all for so many months of the year. What do the gardeners do when the land is under snow and frost bound?
I’ve had such a busy morning. Those poor people from Burma, the Gages, rang up last night to say they are not very happy where they are, and could they come to us. They are in a house whose owner is away, and its in a far-out suburb. I think they feel cut off and lonely, and find it awkward dealing with other people’s servants, specially as they cannot speak Hindustani. I’ve been getting rooms ready for them here. Calcutta is one of the dirtiest places in the world and the spare rooms looked a bit grubby to me, so I have had a regular spring clean, and changing of short blinds, putting new paper into drawers, getting all the venetian shutters nicely dusted; in fact all the things that any good housemaid would do by nature, but which all Indian servants have to be “kept up to”. They have no feeling at all for that sort of cleanliness or neatness.
It’s hard to keep our thoughts away from the terrible happenings in Burma. We have heard a good deal of the inside story of all this, and I can’t imagine why the papers don’t publish it, instead of letting people go on thinking that it is due to inefficiency on the part of the British.
The start of the Hot Weather is always rather sad. Anything that takes one away from the circle of breeze made by a fan becomes an unpleasant duty. Furniture creeps into groups where the breeze from the fans reach the chairs and tables. We have abandoned tea in the garden as being too sultry now, and have to look out from the verandah to see the kittens get their food. Still it must be much worse for you when it is hot, for you have not the same lavish provision of fans, or servants to do all the hard work. Of course we have eight months of heat, and your very hot weather is quite brief, isn’t it? That makes a bit of a difference.
I hope the doctor will be able to make some suggestion for the cure or alleviation of Dad’s indigestion, which has been making his life a misery for so long. It spoils everything for him. All this week I have been trying to get time to revise my First Aid, but I never seem to get round to it, and I’m less likely to than ever, with people staying in the house.
Best love,
Mother
From LJT to Romey Personal letter #10
8 Theatre Rd, Calcutta
March 21st, 1942 (rec’d Wpg August 5)
My darling Romey,
There are a mass of things to thank you for this week! The photos have turned up safely at last, and I like them so much. They make us realize even more than the snapshots do, how much you have grown up. Today I sent them off to be framed, and the little old Babu who has framed pictures for me for years, has promised them back on Wednesday. I was tempted just to keep them out for a few days, but the air in Calcutta is so sooty that I knew it would take the freshness off them. Then all arriving within a few days of each other, were letters Nos 45, 46, 47 and 48, as well as the long and most interesting one (handwritten) in which you discuss your future plans, and John’s problems. Added to these there was an envelope sent by sea, containing snapshots and the card of ring sizes. The latest letter, the handwritten one, was dated 7/2/42 and arrived here on 18/3/42 so took just over five weeks. That is the quickest we have had since the war started. About continuing to use the airmail, it is hard to advise, for the situation changes from day to day. I think we shall just have to leave it to your judgement.
It is grand to have so much news, and a tremendous pleasure to have the photos at last. I have the complete set of six of Annie now, so I feel rich. I am glad that the parcel from here arrived safely, and consider it most clever of you to get it customs free. I am sorry now I did not put in anything for you. At the time when the Chinaman was here he did not seem to have anything other than household things, and the handkerchiefs such as I sent to Helen. I thought you could get something that you would prefer in Winnipeg, but that does miss the psychological pleasure of getting something out of a parcel.
Congratulations on getting top place in the Zoology Lab exam! It must have been a real satisfaction to you, I am sure, especially as there were so many failures. Good for the girls, too, doing so much better than the men.
You are wise to wish to stay on and finish your time at College, and let’s hope you will get a degree at the end of it. What you write about the relative value of the degrees is most interesting. It is good hearing that the Science Degree from Manitoba is worth more than other sorts. One of the great things that these years will have taught you is how to work. So many girls used to leave school at seventeen, when they had never learned to tackle problems on their own, or to concentrate on anything for several hours at a stretch. This inability lets them down badly in later life. You seem to have made good progress with the telegraphy, and maybe if the war is still dragging on, that will be a thing of most value for national service. It’s impossible to look more than a few months into the future. No doubt when the war does end, it will be difficult to get passages for some time, and our lives will have to be adjusted to circumstances. I want to get Dad away to a cool climate as soon as possible after the war ends, and I am always playing with the idea of going home via Canada, but I am afraid the difficulties would be tremendous.
What a cunning idea to offer your services at the “Underprivileged Children’s Camp” on the West Coast, in order to get over there. It would be a noble work helping to look after poor little brats of that sort, but pretty trying I should think. Joyce seemed to find her “Not over bright” or ‘backward children’ quite interesting, so perhaps you will do the same. I hope it all works out according to plan, but I have a sort of feeling that unnecessary people won’t be encouraged to go to the West Coast this summer.
And now to turn to the subject of John. I am awfully glad that you have written at such length and so sensibly about it. I have been thinking a lot in the last two days since your letter came, about whether to tell Harry, and if so, how much. I think he should know, and use his discretion about telling Winsome. The difficulty is to get hold of him alone. My feeling is that a good psychologist is the person who could help John. The question is, have you a good psychologist in Winnipeg? What a strange thing it is that a child like John, to whose up-bringing so much care and attention has been given, should have developed these curious kinks, and should be so difficult to deal with. It can’t all be due to Harry’s spoiling. There must be something deeper and further back than that. Debating the question of whether to tell Harry or not, I examine what my feelings would be in a similar position, and then I know that I would certainly want to know if such a state of affairs existed about one of my children. There is a problem of the future, and the responsibility of the parents. Adequate steps taken now may prevent much trouble later.
Do you remember Barbara Erewaker who stayed the season with us at “The Rainbow” in Darjeeling? Her brother had grown up with no sense of truth or property, and it landed him and his father in the most dreadful situations. After being forgiven twice, he had to leave Sandhurst under a very black cloud, and came out to his father’s tea garden. I don’t know what has happened to him now. I don’t think you have made a mountain out of a molehill at all. Peculiar behaviour, such as John is exhibiting now is definitely serious, in my opinion, and if not dealt with, might easily spoil his whole life. The trouble is to find the key to it. It is an almost hopeless task to the ordinary person, but a trained psychologist should be able to discover it in a fairly short time. I’m awfully grateful to you for writing at such length. I realize what a lot of time and thought a letter like that means. I am quite sure Harry will be grateful to you too. Thank goodness none of you ever showed any inclination to be liars, or, as far as I can see, abnormal in any way. Dicky’s habit of becoming completely absorbed in a book so that earthquakes can take place round him, without his noticing it, is not an abnormality, I think, and is in certain ways, rather engaging. Untruthfulness is one of the things I find most difficult to tolerate in other people. It seems such a stupid sort of way to deal with life, because people always know so soon when people are liars.
I shall stop this now and get on to the family letter. Many thanks to Cousin Susie and to Helen for their nice letters, and our love to them. With best love and constant thoughts,
From, Mother
Family Letter from LJT No 10
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta.
March 22nd 1942
My dears,
Its been an extremely busy week. Late on Saturday evening, Mr Gage telephoned to know if they might come to us on Sunday, as they were in a house in a far-out suburb of Calcutta, not served by trams, and their host was away, and not likely to be back for some time. Being alone in the house, having to manage the servants, and having no one from whom to ask advice about things, made them feel very cut off, I think, and with the petrol shortage, it was very difficult for them to get in and out to shop, and do all the jobs they had to. Of course having them all here has taken up a lot of time, but it is a reward to know that it really is a boon to these poor folk who have had to abandon their own homes, to have somewhere to live. Mrs Gage was in bed with a chill for the first two days, but has recovered now. Mr. Gage was far from well, so went to see a doctor, and has gone into the Tropical School of Medicine to be tested for any possible “bugs” that may be causing his trouble. If he were well enough he could probably get a job as a school master in Kurseong. They have been enquiring about passages to England, but are given little hope of getting them for months to come. Luckily we have been able to get hold of a very good dhirzie, who has run them up some clothes, for they could bring so little with them. Ordering meals is rather funny, for all the three men in the house are on different diets. I took Herbert to see Col Denham White last Sunday evening, and Col D.W. finds his digestive tract badly out of order. He told him to keep on a fish and fruit diet and to take as little starch as possible, and no milk, except a little in his tea. Idris, on the other hand, is on milk and farinaceous foods, while Mr Gage has to avoid fried things, pastry, cream and so on. The doctor is rather afraid that Herbert may be suffering from a slight return of the dysentery, which has troubled him so much from time to time. Tests are being carried out, and later he is to have one of these test meals. The doctor suspects that part of his trouble is lack of acid, and he hopes to be able to help him into a more comfortable state of health. He has had less indigestion since he kept on the very light food, but its difficult to go on indefinitely on such a slender diet, when doing fairly heavy work. However that is not intended. The very light diet is only a temporary measure while investigations are being made.
Another thing that has taken up time this week is the excellent old dhirzie who is working here, and who has made me a couple of office washing frocks, and is making a cotton evening frock out of a Rajput pugeree, which Louise Ranken brought me from Udipore. Its soft muslin in the gayest of stripes, and has made a jolly frock. It seems wrong to be having frocks made, but I needed the office ones, and we do still wear evening frocks here. I have only one tidy cotton one, and I dont like wearing things that cant be washed in the hot weather.
In the office we have had several people from Rangoon in the office this week, and have been especially pressed with work because we had to appoint three Welfare Officers for three groups of factories, and eighteen candidates, selected from some three hundred answers to an advertisement came for interviews on Thursday. Idris and his two assistant directors formed the selection board, and I had to cope with other people and things that turned up as best I could. The psychology of some people is most odd. A certain Doctor, who sounded excellent on paper, came into the room, Idris said to him, “Are you sure you are only 41?” (He looked every day of 60) “Yes! Yes! “ he said. “When were you born?” asked Mr Hughes. “1841, no 1941” replied the old chap in great confusion.” “What about 1901?” asked George Hawes. “Yes”, he said, “That’s it! 1901”. “Most remarkable” said Idris, “Then you took M.D. at Edinburgh when you were only just eighteen. That surely must be a record.” “Oh Yes! I was very young” said the candidate.
Now what can have been in that man’s mind when he applied and came for an interview? Did he think that the men conducting the interview would be complete fools? I dont understand people like that.
Besides my own work, I have been busy in office trying to get a plan for enrolling volunteers for the Blood Bank. Its getting under way now. We have a full time Indian Doctor, as well as a nurse working for the A.R. P. in the Supply Dept group of buildings. I asked him to see if we could get volunteers to donate blood, and after a week I sent for him and asked him how things were going. “No one will give” he said. I was so angry. I had already been ticking him off about not being more energetic and practical about the First Aid arrangements, and I really saw red at this monstrous statement. There are some two thousand people working in the Supply Dept, and lots of people I had asked were willing and anxious to give. I just told him that I would inform Dr Napier (Head of the Tropical School of Medicine, and organizer of the Blood Bank) that Dr Aich would not co-operate, and that we would go ahead without his help. This I did and Dr. Grant, one of the Americans at the Institute of Hygene, who is doing the publicity for the Blood Bank came round the other morning and we fixed up to do our propaganda through the A.R.P. Wardens. The little Doctor is now hopping round in the background, only too anxious to come in on it, for he realizes that all the important people in the Department from Sir Guthrie Russel, the Director General, down are interested. I forget whether I mentioned that I made a blood donation about three weeks ago. A “team” work at the Saturday Club two evenings a week, which is very handy for people who are busy all day. It was this that put the idea of getting the Supply Dept going, into my mind, for our Central First Aid Post would be an excellent place in which two or three teams could work, and will do if we get enough volunteers on the premises.
Since Mr Case and I began making a fuss the equipping of the Post and the organization of the First Aid parties has gone ahead pretty well. Each group of First Aiders have a weekly practise for half an hour after lunch on a certain day. Its not only that we have the practice in the actually rendering of aid, but we are getting to know one another and are becoming familiar with the resources of the Post. The Nurse is an middle aged, but most competant Anglo Indian, and it is she, rather than the doctor who is really getting things going in my opinion.
I’ve really been out quite a lot this week. Frank Kingdon Ward arrived back from Delhi on Wednesday, and walked into the office. We arranged that he should come to a “grill” at the Saturday Club with me that evening, for, with the house so full of people, we should get no chance of a real talk if he came there to dine. We had a delightful evening, and he told me a lot of interesting things. The following evening I dined and went to the cinema with Walter Jenkins, useing the tickets we had won on a “Lucky Programme” number at the Belvedere Fete the previous week. I was glad we had not paid good money for our tickets for I thought the film was a poor one.
Last night Idris and I had a sort of joint party, on Frank K-W’s last night. He dined here, and some of us went to see “Wild Geese Calling”, which we enjoyed well enough, but which on the whole I found disappointing. There are so few American Actors who manage to give any illusion of reality to their emotions. This evening we are going to see Walt Disney’s “Fantasia”, and I am looking forward to it with great curiosity. When I think of going to three cinemas in four days, I am astonished at myself!
A friend of Winsome’s invited Charlotte and Nurse to go and spend the Hot Weather in Simla, and Winsome is away just now escorting them, but is coming back almost immediately. They have also had the house full of evacuees from Burma, some, just strangers and some relations of the very people to whom Charlotte is going in Simla.
We had an Air Raid alarm on Tuesday evening just after I got home from Office. Live shells were fired for practice, and none of us knew whether it was the real thing or not till the next morning. The servants behaved very well indeed and all carried out their allotted jobs.
I find I misjudged the organization that is looking after troops here. They have big notices up at the Offices of all the Hotels, saying that any officers or men who would like to be offered hospitality should ring up such and such numbers. Hundreds have done this and been invited out and taken about, so my young Canadian friends have no one but themselves to blame if they had not been invited anywhere.
This week has been a golden letter one for letters from Romey, and the longed-for photos have arrived as well. I like them very much. They certainly make us realize how much she has grown up in the last three years. Annette’s last three photos have come too, so now I have her complete set, and am just wondering whether to have them done all six in one frame, or three and three. Never in my life before have I appreciated photos as I do now.
I don’t say much about the war, but our minds are constantly on it, especially on events in Burma. Best love to you all,
LJT
From HPV to Richard and Annette (handwritten)
Calcutta
March 22nd 1942
My dear Richard
My dear Annette
The typewriter has struck work on me: jammed keys, jammed ribbon-feed, jammed ribbon holder. Out of sheer perversity. I was typing in the dark in order to test my skill and ruin my temper: no cause for accidents here. It does not mention in the books on typing that the practice ruins ones temper and affects digestion.
Last Sunday’s visit to the doctor has had no sequel: he said that after certain tests he would get me to swallow a tube and repeat that test meal business over which in the Tropical Hospital I filled my ears with tears. But this time, he says the tube will be inserted through the nose, thus avoiding the soft palate and making everything pleasant. Here’s hoping! I go in terror: for my nose is so smashed about inside that there is no obvious passage through it. Norrie, the nose specialist, said that there must be one because I am a nose breather but there was no sign of one. The man who kicked my nose once was one J.D.V.L. Hall: he repeated the offence every time he crawled off me after being tackled. Also he used to hit my nose with a boxing glove when I had an idea that I might learn boxing from a book: the blood was always allowed to fall on the same spot in the study, and the stain was still there twenty years later when I went back to Canterbury for a look-see at my youth-haunts. Now I am on a diet of a little fish, a little very little bread and a little butter, vegetables and fruit. I no longer feel that intense depression or that remoteness from the reality of things which are a mark of auto-intoxication. But it is difficult to be vigorous on such a diet: and my evenings have mostly been devoted to lying flat. Joan says that detective stories are absurd. So they are. American takes of this sort have wise-cracks (?wise snaps): among which the least please “We call her Dandruff, because she’s always falling on a guy’s neck”. This Joan said would please Annette. I don’t know.
As a member of the Zoo committee I took part in a debate about A.R.P. measures. They were discussing the slaying of dangerous animals in case bombs released them: and I pointed out that we should have to cut down the numbers all round because we should not have the money to feed them. Our income is down by 2/3 rds. Suggestion that deer and buffalo be let loose in the Sunderbands: I said why not the rhinos and the hippos? To which the Secretary responded, quite solemnly, “They couldn’t walk that far: and anyhow the old hippo is carnivorous.” It turns out that he ate an old woman who fell into his mouth over the top of the enclosure. How do people think of these things and how do they manage them? I would take a skittish old woman to get over the barrier: and I suspect that her family helped: as in the case of Ajax. “Then Ajax leapt into the fight – (or literally was propelled from behind) –“ as Stephen Leacock pointed out. The Corporation of Calcutta is dunning us for taxes: but the suggestion that we should pay in kind by sending them six leopards at 20/- each and some crocodiles was rejected. The zoo is looking beautiful: flowers and flowering trees. And the pheasants in full plumage are marvellous to see. They asked me if I would like a few deer for my compound – but I told them that I was fully stocked with cats. Winsome told me that four years ago when they lived in this house she caused 24 cats to be caught and removed from this compound . There are fewer now: but the four kittens are fast growing to an age and size when they will be a menace.
Among the depressions of the age (particularly my innards and the detestable successes of the Japs) count as a compensation the view of birds from this verandah. An agreeable coppersmith, small, light green with a scarlet streak across a white throat: a barbet, darker green; a female ?Korit?, lying squat on a dead palm branch – and among the humans an old man carding cotton with one of those humming bows.
I have done a lot of work this week, when not lying flat: and yesterday I harangued brigadiers. Suspicious that what the Governor had told me to do was already being done by the Army I had the utmost difficulty in getting out the Brigadiers any answer Yes or No: though I wasn’t asking for details. I have become like one of the doddery Commissioners whose suppression by the Mutiny is mentioned with such appreciation by the History Books. I don’t suppose that they objected.
Much love
Dad
Family letter from LJT No 11
8 Theatre Rd. Calcutta
March 29th 1942.
My Dears,
The unfortunate Herbert is in the adjoining room to this, undergoing the unpleasant business of having a Test Meal. The tests the doctor took a fortnight ago proved negative. There was no sign of dysentery, I am glad to say, merely evidence of extremely weak digestion. The doctor now wants to find out whether Herbert has enough acid in his digestive tract, and this morning’s performance is to investigate that. I do wish they could find the fault in the digestive machinery and repair it.
The Gages are still with us. Mr. Gage came out of the hospital on Wednesday. They did not find any tropical bugs harbouring in his system, but spotted a septic tonsil and general debility and nerve strain. Dr Napier strongly advises him to try to get home, or to some temperate climate as soon as he can. They had already put their names down for passages, but there are long waiting lists. We are told that there is a sporting chance of getting passages if people can go and wait in Bombay, ready to leave at a few hours notice, because there are often cases of people not turning up, or plans having to be altered at the eleventh hour. The Gages are debating doing that, but have not come to any conclusion yet. Luckily I have been able to get hold of a good dhirzie, who has been making clothes for the two ladies, but I fear they are awfully short of thick things. Its not of much use my thinking of giving them anything, for Mrs Gage is shorter and considerably stouter than I am, and the girl is small and slender to an almost alarming degree. They were able to bring a fair amount of cash out of Burma with them, and being a Government servant on the point of retirement, Mr Gage will get his pension, so is in a much happier position than many people.
The week has mostly been work. We have had a great many men from Burma coming in to the office, and we have heard interesting things. The First Aid organization is going ahead, and I feel fairly happy about it now. I am thankful to find that I dont seem very rusty, and remember the correct treatment for things quite easily. The meeting of the A.R.P. wardens with the representative of the Blood Bank takes place tomorrow morning, and I hope by the end of the week that we shall have a good total of volunteers.
Diversions this week have been a visit to Walt Disney’s “Fantasia” last Sunday evening by the whole household, and an outing to the Saturday Club for myself last night, followed by a visit to the old film of “Dr Jekyl and Mr Hyde”, which I thought very good and very horrible. We all had tea at The Saturday Club too, for the Gages had not been there. Coralie Taylor invited a couple of young gunner officers, who are training her recruits for the Gun Control Room, to have tea there and swim afterwards. I still cant get a bathing cap to go on my head, and don’t feel a bathe is worth the bother of getting my hair wet, so I did not join the younger members of the party in the swimming bath. Herbert has become afraid of bathing for he is so scared of getting chills. Perhaps when the weather stokes up still more, he will feel like an occasional swim. His indigestion has been less troublesome for the past ten days, since he went on to a diet of fish, fruit and a moderate amount of bread and butter, but I feel it is a diet that does not provide sufficient fuel for doing constant work, either mental or physical. He is constantly tired, and felt exhausted by the end of “Fantasia” on Sunday evening. Everyone found it too long, I think, and in my circle of friends, the opinion as to the merits of the different sections agree pretty exactly. The Bach Fuge, and the Nutcracker Suite are a long way ahead of the rest. The Pastoral Symphony I disliked on all grounds. The Dance of the Hours I found extremely clever, and amusing, but I did not like it in that programme. I would like it done to cheaper music, and used as a “Short” in some other programme. The general arrangement and conception of the whole thing I thought fascinating. I would like some more of the “pure music” accompanied by the marvellous colour and form effects like the Bach. What a marvellous orchestra the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra is!
This letter is disjointed. I keep on jumping up to see how Herbert is getting on, and there have been a lot of other interruptions too. The aspect of this town has changed much in the last few weeks. Soldiers used to be few and far between. Now they swarm everywhere, and there are visual reminders that we are close to the front line. A new restaurant for troops has just been opened, where they can get excellent and very cheap meals. A good many women are helping there every afternoon and evening. Noel Gage, the daughter of our refugees, has been down there on several evenings. She was delighted with a man the other evening, who had two of everything. I am not going to start another page.
Best love
LJT