THIRD ROYAL TANK REGIMENT ITEM 8

December 1940.
My dear Ev,
Another port is on it’s way to greet us, so now is the time to write. Whenever we hear we’re going to dock, everyone brings out the writing materials. It’s no use writing at any other time, duck. How I wish I was back in England so I could write every day, but I had to go abroad some day and it’s come too soon worst luck. I’m enjoying the voyage very much. It’s so lovely at nights. I very often go out on the decks and sit there, watching the sun set, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and then the night with millions of stars and, at present, a new moon. I am always thinking of you, dear, and praying for you. I like to sit out on the deck all alone and think of our home and how I’m going to make it so comfy when I get back. I have a mate who is an electrician, we talk for hours on the electric subject.
Our Christmas dinner will be eaten while we’re on the boat, probably wearing shorts and open neck shirts. It will be an experience, but give me a bit of snow and a nice big fire.
A few days ago we passed over the Equator. Strange to say it was rather chilly. There was no sun at all on account of clouds. Now today is more like an equatorial day. The sun is right overhead and everything is unbearably hot. Even the decks and rails burn us if we sit or lean on them.
The old ceremony was performed as we crossed the line. You know the kind of thing - King Neptune and his assistants performing by the side of the swimming pool. It was great fun because all his victims were officers, not that I dislike them, but each regiment wanted its own particular officers to undergo the trials and consequent ducking. The result was much noise and excitement.
I’m an enthusiastic reader now. I average one book a day. Every second I have to spare, you would see me reading. The books are of all classes, fiction, travel, detective, etc. It all helps to pass the time away besides being very interesting at times.
Well, Eve, by the time you read this, it will be 1941, lets hope it will be our first and last Christmas apart.
I hope you’re not worrying too much about me, duck, and that you’re able to meet the bills and keep out of debt. I’m keeping fine, so don’t worry, and I’m OK for money.
There’s nothing exciting to tell you, so until my next letter, I will have to say bye-by, darling. God bless you and keep you safe, happy and true.
Your ever true and loving hubby, Alb. I love you. Keep smiling like me. It will all end some day soon. Xxx
I almost forgot to tell you, duck, about my experiences when we called at a port. We weren’t allowed to go ashore, so the natives came over to our boat in their little canoes. They looked like pin knobs sitting on a matchstick in the distance, but in no time they were swarming around our boat with fruit, baskets and even monkeys to sell. How would you have liked to buy bananas at ½d each, fresh from the jungle? I never bought a thing. They were not tempting lying in the bottom of the boat which was half full of water and amidst all manner of rubbish that they picked out of the water, such as pigs’ feet, bread and fat that the crew threw away. One chap threw a bun in the water and without any fuss a native fished it out and ate it.
One native wore a top hat, collar and tie and a pair of shorts (Let Burton Dress you). The others wore any odd clothes and their bodies were a lovely chocolate colour, something like Bourneville choc. It was a life-long memory, I shall never forget them. They could speak very good English too. We were greeted at 6 in the morning with a cheery “Good morning, boys,” and “How are you all this morning?”.
So much for that. I will have to go now, duck, this time to bed. I’m sleeping on deck tonight. Goodnight, God bless you, darling. I love you lots. Alb. Xxx.

December 24 1940. (3rd letter since I left England).
My dear Ev,
Tomorrow, is Christmas Eve, I do hope it’s the only one I have to spend away from you. I’m still on the boat and we shall celebrate it at sea. We’re in for a good time by the look of it, and I shall certainly hang my stocking up when I have darned it.

We had 3 days shore leave at our last port. It was marvellous to get on solid ground again. I do wish I could tell you all about it, but that will have to wait until I come home. I might say we travelled on the buses and trams free and people were always willing to give us lifts in their cars. It saved us a great lot of money. The cars were nearly all big ones from America, like Chrysler, Pontiff, De Solo, Plymouth, etc. My two mates and myself were lucky enough to have a trip in one and the driver took us to his home for supper. It was a fine house with electric lights all over the place; in fact it was all electric, just my idea of a modern home. The people had a little son about 9 years old, and it was his idea that his parents should pick up a few soldiers so he could see them and have a chat, so we had to thank young Ernie for our nice night.
Well, Eve, there’s very little to write about. It’s been a very enjoyable trip so far, and we’re almost at our journey’s end now. I hope you haven’t been worrying too much about me. I’ve heard all the news bulletins and there’s been plenty of action in the Western Desert. I’ve often thought how the news affected you and all those at home, wondering if I was there. By the time you get this letter, I’m hoping the African part of this war will be all settled up; there seems every possibility.
The lads are to be waited on for Christmas dinner. The Sergeants, Sergeant-Majors and junior officers are to be the waiters. It looks like being a great day in spite of the fact that I’m on guard with my two mates on Christmas Night. I don’t mind doing the guard, now I have my pals with me.
I forgot to tell you. You know my other pal from Holyhead? Well, he was taken ill before we docked at the last port and was taken ashore to hospital. It’s nothing serious at all, only a mild form of fit. I think the sea voyage brought it on. He will probably go back to England. I was taken back to Hubanks when I was ashore. A negress came along the prom and was selling fruit. Among them were censored (The word censored was “lychees” which in 1940 only came from South Africa. It proves the censor did his job properly. But I did guess what it was, but never said. Eveline.). You know what they are, I guess, but the spelling may be wrong. I know you have bought them, you say they are dear and fortunately I dislike them. I didn’t buy any. My mates did and said they were lovely, but it didn’t tempt me.
I’ve been living a healthy life since I left England. A bath every day, sleeping on deck almost every night and all day long has been spent on deck, except for meals. The weather is terribly hot, it doesn’t seem right for Christmas, does it? Maybe we shall have a bit of snow next year, somewhere in England, hey?
I will have to close now, duck, I’m OK for money and everything else. Don’t worry please. I’m very fit too.. God bless you all and keep you safe. Tra, Ev, lots of love, your ever true and loving hubby, Alb. Xxx.

January 22 1941. Middle East Forces.
Dearest Eve,
At last I have a spot of time to write a letter or two. Notice my new address. I’m back again with the 3rd again and in my old squadron. We had 4 days leave when we got off the boat and this last weekend we had a 48 hrs leave.
When we disembarked we went to some fine barracks and actually slept between sheets and had pillows. I never thought I should have seen such luxury in the Army, but it only lasted a week and now I’m in the desert roughing it a little. We’re under canvas, the only means of illumination are candles and what a price too - 2½d for one candle. It’s rather a topsy turvy country as regards prices. We can get about 56 oranges for 1/-, or go about 10 miles on a tram for ½d. Lemons are very cheap too, about 40 for 1/-, and eggs. Well, we go in cafe for chips and eggs, there’s always 4 fried eggs on the plate. It’s a land of eggs and oranges. They come on the menu every day. Chickens are cheap too; it’s nothing to go in a cafe and have a whole roast chicken to one’s self, for a small price of 1/6.
On the other hand, there’s chocolate which is 3 3/4d for 2 oz, and so forth. Newspapers 2½d each and books like “Answers” and “Titbits” are 3 3/4d, magazines are 1/- or 2/-. Fags are at English pre-war prices, but we all get 50 a week free from the Army.
So much for facts and figures. Let’s get back to the desert. We’ve had a few small sand-storms this last few days. They’re terrible, there’s sand everywhere, in the tea and food, in all our clothes and blankets, our hair, eyes, ears and between our teeth. It’s pretty tough but we get plenty of water to wash it away.
Well, Ev, I’ve seen some of Egypt’s most wonderful sights. I can’t tell you what or where because of censorship. I shall have to tell you when I come home
I’m OK for money. You know there’s different coins out here, they’re called “piastre”, valued at 2½d for 1 piastre. It’s taken some time to weigh all these coins up, but now it’s quite simple, and I’ve learned about 100 words of the Egyptian language too, including numbers up to 1000 and how to tell the time. I shall never be able to write it though, it’s like Chinese.
Now, Ev, I’m sending this by air-mail, but even so it will take about 5 or 6 weeks, and as we’re only allowed about ½ oz, I can’t send one to mother in this envelope, so please give her my love, and to Dad and Levi. I’ll send them letters by the ordinary way, and also a few more to you.
Don’t worry about me, duck. I’m quite all right. We’ve got the old Italians on the run. It takes us all our time to catch them. I am pretty certain that when you get this letter, the war in Africa will be all over. Then I will have to see what happens. We may come home to start about Old Hitler, and then again we may not.
The local paper hardly mentions about air-raids in England. I hope you don’t have any. It’s hard to imagine you all in the grip of winter, while we can walk about in shirt sleeves; but not at night though. It gets bitterly cold at night and four blankets and an overcoat are only just enough to keep us warm.

I must close now, Ev, or it will weigh the plane down. Best love to Mum, Dad and Kathy, and don’t forget to tell my family when to expect a letter (about 4 weeks after you have this). Remember me to all our uncles and aunts and friends.
Good night, darling, God bless you and keep you safe and happy. I love you forever. Your ever loving and true hubby, Alb. Xxx.
PS. Each stamp is 10 mills (1 piastre or 2½d in English). This letter will go by plane to the Cape, then by boat)
Bye-bye, Ev. Good luck. The war’s nearly over out here. I love you lots. Xxx. Alb.

May 16 1941. Airgraph. MEF.
Dear Mother and Dad,
You’ve probably heard off Eveline that I’m safe and sound by now. I thought it wasn’t necessary to send you a telegram too. They’re a bit expensive to make a practice of, it cost 2½d a word. These letter cards are ideal, I think, they only cost 3d and I believe it’s a quick service taking between 5 and 10 days to get home.
There was stacks of mail waiting for us when we got back from Greece. I had 10 letters and 2 parcels, one letter off Jack Cash, one off Jimmy Daniels, two off you and six off Eve. One of the parcels was from Wedgwoods and the other was the long-forgotten one - remember it? Well, the watch is perfect and the Craven A, also the woollen ware. As for the chocs and biscuits, well they were all white but eatable, and the four half-crowns may see England again, although I will try to get them changed when we go to town for a spot of leave. Thanks very much for all the stuff. I don’t suppose the gloves and balaclava will be needed for a long time yet, but they’ll be useful; when I’m on the homeward bound boat, whenever that will be. I don’t know.
I could have done with them in Greece, it was very cold at night, although in the daytime it was scorching hot. There was still thick snow on the mountains when we left.
Old Jerry paid very dearly for that little adventure. He must have lost thousands and thousands killed.
I’ve lost all my pals. I can only hope they’re prisoners, although I know for certain a few were killed. All my kit, both personal and army, was lost. I just had my New Testament and pay book left when I checked up. I see you mentioned souvenirs in one of your letters. Well, I had some for you, but I suppose old Jerry has them now. I shan’t start to get any more until there are some good signs of coming home. I see Rudolf Hess has thrown the towel in, I wish he had a few more followers. Well, Mother, I will make good use of this air-mail service and maybe next week you will be hearing from me again. Good bye and good luck. Remember me to everyone, love Alb. Xxx

May 20 1941. Airgraph. MEF.
Dear Mother and Dad,
I’ve just had a letter off Uncle Ted. It seems as though there’s been a hold up somewhere. Everyone had stacks of mail these last few days. Three lads had had 3d Air Mail Post Cards, and it’s only taken them 2 weeks to come. I do hope you will send a few. They’re only ordinary plain PCs with a 3d stamp on, and they can be covered with writing. It’s much nicer to have a spot of fresh news than some that’s 3 or 4 months old.
I had the Christmas mail while I was in Greece. Thanks very much for the New Years card and thank Auntie Polly too. It was a very expensive stamp to put on a card, 2.6 it cost, and even then it was March 21st when I got it. I’ll write to her myself a bit later in the week.
Now could you send me Uncle Levi’s address again. I have lost that too. In the meantime I will send him a letter c/o you.
I see that Sam has registered on 22 Jan. What has he gone in? I bet he tried to join the RAF. I’ll feel a stranger when I get home again, with all these marriages. As I previously mentioned, Kathy Ashley’s marriage was a terrific surprise.
Don’t mention souvenirs yet. I had quite a few before I left Greece, but I had to leave them. As a matter of fact, all my kit was left on a lorry while I was on a parachute stunt, and I never saw the lorry again. I didn’t mind much, because things were rather hot at the time, and we sailed the same night for Crete.
Well, Mother, we are fairly comfortable here. There’s a couple of big NAAFIs, a ramshackle cinema and some good shower baths. I’ve just drawn £6 to go on 5 days leave with, maybe next week, so I should have a decent time.
I’m perfectly fit and enjoying life once again, hoping you all are at home. Good afternoon, Mum, Dad and Levi. Your loving son Albert. Xxx.

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