Seward House
Badsey
Sept 6th 1914
My dear Sweetheart
This is the first of many Sundays apart and I have been wondering all day how you have been spending it. I imagine you had some kind of service this morning, I know in the regular army a morning service is organized in spite of obstacles that civilians might think would prove insurmountable. I know some part of today has been spent writing to me and oh, how I am longing to get that letter. I hope you’ve had all mine now, three in all, posted Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.
Everything here reminds me so vividly of you – the garden, particularly in the gloaming and the evening and I cannot trust myself yet to stroll round it as I did with you. The service without you on Thursday morning early seemed real because my spirit went out to meet yours, but I missed your presence by my side and again today your vacant place in the choir gave me a pang. As time goes on these memories will become the sweetest part of life and I shall love to dwell on them, they will be like an oasis in the desert, but just at present they are too sharp and recent not to hurt. It is partly because I am in the same surroundings and with those who remind me of you in look and gesture, it will be better for me when I am at work again. I keep myself as busy as I can and do not give way to brooding and am really in my inmost soul glad you are able to be of service to your country.
I am hoping this month of out-door life will be of great benefit to you, it is what I would have wished for you even if there had been no war.
Probably the reason I am feeling a little lonely is that at certain times I always feel the need of your presence more than at others. The mental strain of having to let you go for so long has evidently affected me by making me feel “slack” earlier than usual. I don’t know whether it would be wiser for me to refrain from writing confidential things in my letters for fear of them going astray or being opened. Please let me know if there is any fear of the latter and I will confine my news to less personal matters. I always like you to know everything about me – it brings us so much nearer.
The little Mother, Betty and I are the stay-at-homes, the others have gone to church. Betty has had one of her bad attacks of indigestion. She feels a bit better tonight but last night she felt rotten and went to bed fairly early and was allowed to sleep on this morning until about 10.30.
I will post this tomorrow evening after hearing from you, I hope, in the afternoon, although I am prepared for there to be no post at Churn on Sundays, in the event of which I should not hear until Tuesday. Bye bye – for the present.
Sept 7th
Betty heard from her friend Joyce today. She says her brother writes from Woolwich saying that he knows it is a fact that Russians have been landed at Ostend and other places. He writes as though he wonders if the news has leaked out among the civil population yet. This confirmation of news has sent our spirits up plus the fact that your Father saw a paper early this morning in which Sir John French speaks in the highest terms of the excellent fighting qualities of our men and of their superiority over the Germans.
I am beginning to hope there will be a big ? up presently which will so dipple the Germans that they will ? in order to get back to their own country, then we shall chase them towards Berlin where they will be met by the other Russian troops and so we shall squash them between us. I do hope something of this kind will happen. I should think we ought to get some official news soon about our Russian reinforcements, don’t you think?
Am feeling in better spirits today - the last day or two one has felt the war would go on for years, but good news [?] one up and gives one [?].
I expect you are too busy really to worry whether the news is good or bad, you are busy preparing yourselves to meet whatever the future holds in store for you.
Ivy went home for the weekend and a wire came this morning to say she is not well enough to come back today. Am writing this in the interval made by the water not being hot enough to wash up! I think it must be ready by now.
3 pm
Darling, I enclose you Aunt Jessie’s letter to read. Aren’t she and Uncle Ben perfect bricks.
It will be a little while yet before I get taken on as Matron will have to take up my references and I have to get a medical certificate filled in.
You may imagine the Walls’ offer has taken a load off my mind.
I am delighted to have your long letter, dear - to see how thoroughly you seem to like your new life. I’d give anything just for a glimpse of you, to see your tent and the tent where the deck chairs are.
Your remark that you ended your PS with – that there is nothing else you want – except a kiss – is answered that I want you much more than a kiss – but still if I had the latter I should have the former so perhaps after all I read a little more than you actually write.
Enclosed are your sleeve links.
Am just going to write to make an appointment with Dr Leslie to get a medical certificate.
Au revoir – Sweetheart – will let you know how events map out for me. I hope your feet are better. Shall I send you some boracic powder for them? You may look for a letter on Thursday.
All my heart’s love and a long kiss.
Ever your own
Mela
