Posts
The following letter is from Olive Endacott the wife Jack Endacott a work colleague at GEC and old friend of Frank. As you can see from the letter Olive and Frank got married on the declaration of war, whilst Frank was less lucky. The turmoil caused by the declaration of war is captured well in this letter.
15/9/39 Friday
132, Fairview Road
South Tottenham
N15
My dear Frank,
Thank you very much for your letter - I was so pleased to hear from you - and I am sure Jack be when I give him your letter when I see him tomorrow.
We were ever so sorry that you were not with us on our day of days as also we had reckoned on you being our "best man". It has always been a great source of joy to me that Jack has such a good pal - and me too for that matter. Please forgive me for not having let you know but honestly Frank it was an awful rush at the finish. We got a license on Wednesday and Jack said that he wouldn't get leave for at least a couple of weeks. Then on Thursday he phoned me to say that they were giving him 6 hours on the Saturday, so as you can see I had to rush around to arrange things. I wrote to Edie but unfortunately she was too far away to come along. I was so sorry because I have always wanted young Anne as a bridesmaid. What different ideas we had for the Event! - but still that can't be helped and we are so happy now that those regrets soon pass away. I do hope however that you will understand and forgive us for not letting you know beforehand.
I was upset at having missed you on Monday but on Sunday night Jack arrived home for 23hrs leave. I promptly took the day off. We called in at the office so we must have missed you by minutes. We got there at 12.20 and left about 12.45pm - we would have been so pleased to have had you to lunch with us. We spent must of the time doing some shopping at Mappin & Webb's and then had lunch at Tottenham Court Road Corner House. We left Charing X about 5.10pm to get Jack back again at 7.0pm. Whilst waiting in Sidcup High Street on my way back I met Roger Sharp. He is at the Vicarage there and is well - looked after. Of course he isn’t pleased with life and Brenda is a bit fed up - but I suppose poor girl she would be - they should move into their new place on Monday.
We are very busy at the office - don't know which way to turn. My staff has increased considerably that we are having to consider taking larger premises. Sales Dept. on the other hand is very deserted. You were probably amused to see all the remaining Travellers, either behind the counters or filling sandbags! Gosh! they have had to work and probably no expenses.
Well I expect you think I have written enough for now - but anyway it will be another great moment for you when your name is called out.
Frank I was so sorry after reading your p.s. Being so happy myself it makes me sad to think of you being more unhappy just now. I am afraid there isn't much I can say to help you but anyway I will write you regularly if you would like me to do so. I suppose I've got the two of you on my hands again now!
Well old pal I suppose I must close down now. It's a lot of natter that perhaps won't interest you very much but anyway it does make something to read. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it for lunch but perhaps you will look us up when you get some more time off.
Keep cheerful and hope to be home soon. How I long for the day when we can welcome our first visitor - You - in our own home.
Well cheerio and the very best wishes from us both,
God bless you,
Olive
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMemoirs of Gunner Harvey
ReplyDeleteIn 1938 when war was staring us in the face I was employed as cashier with the North British and Mercantile Insurance Co, 61 Threadneedle Street in the City of London. During lunch one day, a number of my friends and I were watching a display outside the Royal Exchange of our anti aircraft battery of regular artillery soldiers, very smartly turned out in their uniforms (with riding breeches) and guns gleaming. We were attracted to such an extent that we applied to join the Territorial Army. The Insurance Companies formed the 157 Battery of the 53rd (City of London) Heavy Anti-Aircraft Regiment, Royal Artillery. Our Headquarters were at White City, London. We met weekly, followed by two weeks firing practice at Weyboume, near Sheringham, Norfolk, firing out to sea, and further training on the Firing Range on Salisbury Plain. Here, I had an unusual experience. One sunny day we were on the range miles from anywhere. I was on fatigue duties with Gunner Ted Gallagher. We were on cookhouse duties. Actually we were making hundreds of sandwiches on trestle tables in the open for the boys manning the guns. Looking around was just miles of open countryside and suddenly we heard the galloping hoofs of a horse. Lo and behold emerged a brigadier on a very beautiful animal all togged up like his master. The Brigadier suddenly stopped right by us and shouted out “What direction is the Enemy?” Note, these are just manoeuvres, as we had not really thought about ‘the enemy’. In response to this Officer’s loud question I called out “to the East Sir”. I knew I could not go wrong as the Germans had already captured most of Europe. Anyway, it stopped the Brigadier shouting, then he dismounted, walked towards my friend Ted, called him aside, and went into a normal mode of converstion. After about ten minutes he remounted and sped off. The surprise is that my friend was the illegitimate son of the Brigadier. Next day Gunner Gallagher was posted and I never saw or heard of him ever again! Referring back to Weybourne in Norfolk we trained on the 3 inch Anti-Aircraft gun of First War vintage and a new 3.7” gun still a secret weapon. Here I did “spud-bashing” with Lord Moyniham then a Gunner, but he was soon commissioned. Later in 1938 a crisis was declared after Chamberlain's "peace in our time speech" and we were called up to man guns on Clapham Common. I have photos. We slept rough, sleeping on straw paliases which made me sneezy and marched to a nearby ABC restaurant for meals. A good deal.
Just prior to War being declared in 1939 we were posted to Marls Copse, near Reading, right in the heart of the country. Whilst there I, as a Gunner, inadvertently disobeyed an order from Sergeant Smithers who used to work in the same insurance office as myself. He was a small very efficient guy, and complained about me over the telephone to the Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM), a regular soldier, who was stationed a few miles away at Regimental HQ in a tent with an ATS attendant. I had orders to pack my kit and board a coal lorry the army had acquired, all filthy and black (we had no army vehicles available) and I was driven to RHQ feeling quite fearful. Having unloaded my kit outside a tent labelled "Sergeant Major" a pretty ATS girl asked me what I wanted, and I told her I was to report to the RSM. She said "'He won't be a minute", lo and behold I heard the squeak of his boots and then saw this six foot top grade regular RSM with his stick under his arm and I felt terrible. He said, "What do you want soldier?" Coming to attention I said, "Sgt Smithers from 'B' site told me to report to you Sir”. "Come inside" he said lifting up the canopy of the tent. I really thought I was in for a roasting, when in point of fact he firstly asked me what the trouble was. I tried my best to explain what exactly happened doing my best to cover my footsteps and I did say I had difficulty in dealing with Sgt Smithers, and the RSM's loud retort was, surprise, surprise, "Never mind soldier I don't like this little bastard either. Stay with me here for a fortnight just doing jobs around the camp". Anyway a pleasant two weeks was spent chatting up the birds. His name was RSM Venison, he could have eaten me.
ReplyDelete