June 1916

The next days and weeks followed much the same pattern.

Then one day I had a letter from my husband John, and I realised suddenly that I needed to write to him and explain the situation relating to Peter. John’s letters come infrequently, and I expected that sometimes they don’t get through at all. This one was written in March, just after he had arrived in Cyprus, and it was obvious that he hadn’t had my letter sent last month telling about Beth.

My husband had volunteered for the army in September of last year, when it became obvious that the war was not going to be over in a matter of weeks as had been previously thought. He was sent to Catterick Camp in Yorkshire for his basic training. After a few weeks, he was among those chosen to possibly become an officer who were then sent to a separate section of the camp and were coached in the sorts of skills that would be needed for officers.

After a period of time, there were examinations and interviews and the best of the group were promoted, and the others who failed went to learn other skills. But of course he did pass and became an officer, and after several months of training in electronics and telephone work, and after a week’s leave, he was sent to Cyprus. As far as I understand, even though it is considered a war zone, there is unlikely to be any conflict as such there, and his role is more to do with communications and such than direct fighting, so I hope he will stay safe.

When she got home from school I shared the letter with Rebecca.

“Darling Barbara and Rebecca,

"We arrived safely and have settled in.

"The temperature here is 95º during the day but it gets cooler at night. We are sleeping in tents, rather than the wooden huts like we had at Catterick, and I share my tent with another officer. I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to write sooner, but I have just recovered from 2 days’ illness. I must have drunk some bad water or something. Anyway it laid me out completely. I couldn’t keep anything down at all and in fact I haven’t anything to eat now for over 48 hours. I don’t feel hungry at all. Last night I took 3 aspirins, put on a pair of pyjamas and a sweater and went to bed under 2 blankets, the temperature outside being 75º. I sweated buckets, completely soaking everything but I felt much better this morning. I think I shall recover now. It is nothing much to worry about and happens to everybody quite often apparently. I am told that people just get immune after 6 months or so.
I hope you are both well, and that you are enjoying school, Rebecca. Do write to me soon.

Cheerio for now.

Love,

John (Dad)”

We decided that we would write back to him that evening, so after tea but before Peter came up, I started my letter.

"Dear John,

"I am never sure whether you get my letters or not, so if some of the things I write now seem to be repetitious, that is because I have written them before.
I am so pleased that you are now settled into your new life in Cyprus. I was very concerned to hear of your illness. Is there nothing you can do to ensure the water supply? Boil it or put some sort of sterilizing tablets into it? Please do be careful. It sounds like what you had was far from simple, but thank God, you are now recovered.

"What can we send you to make your life easier? I can’t promise much but we will try our best if you can think what you might like. How is the food, when you are feeling well enough to eat? Is it as good as you said the food was in Catterick?
I don’t suppose you can tell me much about your work, but we would be pleased to know how you spend your days.

"We have rather a new situation happening around here. One day several weeks ago, a man came to the door who said he was my second cousin. He gave me all my family history, so I knew he was genuine. He had fled from Germany – or rather the part of Poland that is under the control of Germany at the moment. He asked if I would care for his daughter. His wife died recently and he didn’t want her left to chance, as he expected to be sent to a prisoner of war camp if he is caught. She is a lovely girl called Beth, and we get along with her very well. Rebecca has taken her under her wing and is helping her with her English. I said I would ask your permission for this arrangement to continue, and if you are not happy with it, we would have to make other arrangements. However, now that we know her and she trusts us, I can’t imagine that we could be parted from her, so I do hope you will be pleased with my decision.

"I will leave Rebecca to add her own bit to this letter and post it off to you in the morning.

I miss you very much.

All my love,

Barbara”

When Peter came in that night, he knew that I was distracted, and I told him about the letter from John, and how since he hadn’t mentioned my letter about Beth, he obviously hadn’t had it, so I needed to tell him again. I also said that I had not asked his permission, as I had in the first letter, but told him that I had decided we would keep her. Peter seemed very relieved. He went upstairs to have his half hour with Beth, and then came down but we were both rather subdued during our time together afterwards, and he soon went back to the cellar.