ROYAL TANK REG H

June 15 1945. Friday. Canadian Red Cross Society. BLA.
Dear Mother and Dad,
I guess Eve has told you of my little accident with a gun. It’s nothing really, but hospitals always make such a fuss with X-rays and plaster and what-not.
I can’t give you any news about it except my hand is as comfortable as if nothing had happened, and I believed the sister to say the plaster has to stay on for 14 days, which means it will be ready to come off on the 25th or 26th of this month. The bullet went right through and the flesh wound is nothing, but the X-ray showed where it had scraped an odd bone. I say odd because I can, and have always been able to, move my fingers and thumb. Anyway a surgeon suggested putting it in plaster, just for old time’s sake.
I’ve been in 5 different hospitals of sorts since June 9th. First I went or our own Regt one; they soon sent me to a Brigade one, and next day they sent me to a bigger one which had an X-ray. And as soon as they had X-rayed it and plastered it, I was sent to a General Hospital. They seemed to get rid of everyone that came in, and next day I was run down to this one near Hamburg.
Now the hospital unit who runs this joint is moving and the unit who have just sorted out Belsen Concentration Camp are taking over. I suppose we shall be hearing all about Belsen now. By-the-way, we all wear hospital blues, a nice cut too; bright blue suit, red tie and white cricket shirt. I’m not bothering to send you this new address. Just write as normal and the unit will forward it in due course. I’m not wanting anything and don’t you dare worry in the least. I’m fit as a fiddle and it’s all fetching group 26.
I see they make a start on demobbing in 3 or 4 days time. I guess it will be a few months before we see anybody go from our unit. Our lowest group number is 9, and the next lowest is 12. I have a chap here, next bed to me, who keeps a boarding house in the Isle of Man, just up the street from the Palace; Empress Drive, I think he said. He’s hoping to be out in August, Group 13.
His captain came down yesterday and brought him a big basket of strawberries. There was enough o go round at a rate of 24 - 30 each for 8 of us, plus the two ward sisters and ward orderly. They were delicious especially as we scrounged a tin of cream.
There’s still no news of leave, when it starts and how much. I suppose it will start again on July 1st.
The weather is rather like winter around here, rain, dull and cold, but it won’t be always. Tra. God bless you, yours ever, Alb. Xxx.

June 23 1945, Sat. BLA.
The day after this letter was written, Albert was sent by plane over to England, and sent to Wronkswood Hospital in Warwickshire. Shortly afterwards he was sent, `still with plaster on’, to a military hospital in a village called Tean, which is only a few miles from our home.. Luck at last. He was able to come home quite often for a few weeks.
Dear Mother and Dad,
Sorry I haven’t written for 9 or 10 days, but really there’s nothing to report. My plaster is still on my wrist and it’s due to come off very soon. But I’ve heard the whole hospital is going to move, and as I’m a fairly fit patient, I’m expecting to go any day. I don’t know where they’re moving too and don’t care; this is my fifth hospital and it’s only a matter of waiting for my plaster to come off, then an X-ray to see what’s happened. Personally I don’t know what to think. Sometimes I think it will be all right, and yet again I don’t think the bone has got together. Still never mind, we shall see, and I’ve got a long time to wait for Group 26. (This is when Albert expected to be demobbed). I’m going to see what’s happened to my mail tomorrow. I haven’t had any mail since I left the unit on 9 June and I have let our office know all my fresh addresses. This is something I’ve dreaded the whole of my service. I knew the mail would be an absolute chaos, I’ve told Eve to almost stop writing, it’s a waste of time.
. We’re not short of anything so don’t worry. I’ve heard off one of my mates who has just come in for an operation that over at the unit they are starting leave again on 25 June and going to double the allotment, which means I may be home in the later half of August.
Well, that’s all and don’t worry. So cheerio and love to you all, Alb. Xxx.

27 September 1945. Thursday. B Squad, Hut 44., 152 Regt RAC,
Chippenham Camp South, Newmarket, Suffolk.
When Albert had recuperated from his wound, he was sent to Catterick Camp for a few days. Then to Chippenham Camp for a further few days. If the war in the Far East had not ended soon Albert would have been off overseas again.
Part letter.
Dear Mother and Dad,
I think I had better write to you although I have a pass in for this weekend. I don’t know whether I shall get it until tomorrow afternoon, and if I do then I’ll be home Saturday evening. I hope you didn’t write to me while I was at Catterick, I wasn’t there a full week. We were moved down here on Thursday morning. It’s the same camp, almost the same hut, I was in when we came back from the MEF. This is a tank regiment, a useless one at that, and its duties have been to recruit men such as myself, give them ? weeks training and then they are ready for overseas again.

Letter written a few days later.
Attached B Squad, 8 RTR, Weeting Hall, Brandon, Suffolk.
Dear Mother and Dad,
I had better write to you being as I am not coming home this weekend. On Tuesday I was sent to 8th Bn for an indefinite period. I can’t get to know how long for and not much idea why, but forming my own opinion, I see they’ve only come from Italy a couple of months ago and have just parted with all their men of Group 30 and under, in anticipation of equipping for the Far East. Now they find they have no technicians and while chaps are going on courses to be trained, a party of us from 152 have been sent to bridge the gap. it suits me and will pass a month away I think. It’s not a bad job to be on the staff unit, but still I’m doing my utmost to stay in England. I saw everyone in Catterick and got no change from them, so I’m on the job down here. I’m not so much afraid of going out again, but the News Chronicle knocked the wind out of my sails on Tuesday when it stated that officers and NCOs and technical chaps were not to be demobbed until their places could be filled. So I was reckoning if I could stay in England I would stand a chance of coming out in my group. We’ve had an easy time since we came here, we start training tomorrow. I shan’t have much to do in my job. It’s a bit warmer down here and although there’s no place to go at night it’s far better than Catterick. I have always dreaded that place, it’s khaki for miles around.. I’m OK for everything and the food is decent. Hope to see you soon.
Tra, all my love, Yours ever, Alb. Xxx.

The very last. Dec 8 1945. Sat. 11.30 am. Chippy.
My dear Eve,
I did not think of ever writing to you again. Oh, no, I’m not vexed; it’s just ‘cause I’ve accepted Class B. Of course, you already know if you have been to see Mother this weekend.
There’s little to say really Eve, except that at 5.30 last night I was called to the main office and asked if I wished to take Class B, and after weighing things up, I have decided to accept, ‘cause you want some coupons, don’t you? Apart from coupons, I shall get leave until Jan 2nd and that should see our nip born and you on the way to full recovery.
Well, after I said “Yes”, I ran as fast as I could and rang up home. I couldn’t possibly wait until you were up at Mother’s; for one thing, I reckoned that after 7.0, I would have had to book a call, and I know at 6.0, I should get through almost at once, in which I did and only paid the night charge of 1/8. I was very lucky too. A chap went down to phone London at 7.0 and all the lines were out of order.
I told Mother to tell you some of the details. I think there is one alteration, the time I shall come home. I said I start from here at 8.30 am Tues but I se it will not be so, because we have to have a useless interview with the Colonel at 12.00 on Tues, then dinner, then start in the afternoon. I should like to be in Stoke on the 8.28 from Crewe, arrives 9.7 pm, but we can’t say for certain. I have no idea when I shall leave. I would say it will be much later than that, because to get in Stoke at 9.7 I started from here on the 12.7 from Newmarket, 3.45 Euston.
Well, Eve, I’m as happy as ever I’ve been in my whole life. I sang all night last night, and this morning I was a little horse. When I had had my fodder, I was paid up to date, a whole £2 and interviewed by the Major, handed almost all my kit in except bed, signed endless forms for 2 weeks’ NAAFI rations, pay, medals, medical, etc.
I think I have finished for today, tomorrow I have my final medical exam at 10.30 and at 12.0 I pick up all the necessary travel warrants and etc for 3 of us who are released to proceed on Monday to Northampton for our civilian kit.
Reveille is at 4.45, breakfast 5.30, start off at 6.25, train at 7.20 etc, and we are due back for tea on Monday. Then I reckon we can relax until Tuesday. I am thinking of going to Cambridge this afternoon, ‘cause I’ve nothing to do, and I can’t sit around at this stage of the battle.

This is our last letter, Eve, it’s come very suddenly but so very welcome, just when I will be useful in the home.
So, Eve, I will be seeing you on Tuesday night sometime, and if I am really stuck at Stafford or Crewe, I will ring up. I don’t think I will be.
Tra, Eve. God bless you. All my love.
Yours ever, Alb, xxxxxxx.

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