Love Letters

The Navy bus drew up right outside Nancy's quarters, she thanked the driver and got off. Walking down the corridor to her room Nancy couldn't make up her mind as to whether she should go to bed immediately or have breakfast, potter about a bit and go to bed at lunchtime. It was always a difficult decision. If she went to bed immediately she'd be awakened by hunger and then would be too tired to eat and then wouldn't get back to sleep again. If she waited and went to bed about noon she'd have terrible difficulty being bright eyed and bushy tailed in time for night duty. She laid on the bed to think about it for a while.

There was a knock at the door. It was Celia. ‘You're back! Breakfast first? I'm starving.'

Nancy swung her legs off the bed saying, ‘Breakfast first.'

There was one thing about the Navy the breakfasts were good, lots of very hot tea, bacon, sausage, tomatoes, fried bread, fried egg, toast and marmalade, after a twelve hour shift Nancy was ready for the full menu. The bacon was cooked crisp, and a forkful dipped into the yolk of her fried egg did wonders for setting her up after her long night.

Celia wanted to know what she was doing after breakfast.

Nancy thought for a moment and then said, ‘We could go for a walk. I've got some clothing coupons left so we could go shopping. . . . . .'
Celia shook her head. ‘Oh! No. I'm never going shopping with you again, never ever. You can make a drama out of buying a birthday card. You shilly shally, dither, change your mind, put it back, pick it up. . . . . .'
‘ I do not. I've stopped doing that, OK. This breakfast's good. I could eat another plateful.'

‘ Go ask.'

Nancy shook her head. ‘No, I couldn't.'

‘ Go on. They won't mind.'

‘ No. I might not manage to eat it all and they'll be furious.'

‘ Not nearly so furious as Johnny will be when he finds out you're finishing with him.'

Nancy's head came up with a jerk. ‘I've never said I was finishing with him.'

‘ No? more toast? But you are going to though, aren't you?'
‘ Thanks. Not that I know of.'

‘ You should cling to Johnny. He's absolutely super. Life and soul of the party is Johnny.'

Nancy faced facts. Deep down she felt she and Johnny weren't suited. They came from completely opposite ends of the spectrum. She was quiet and restrained, he was lively and outgoing, she'd always worked hard and consistently, he'd flitted from one job to another, easily bored, for ever in need of excitement and change. But at the same time, she loved his dark auburn hair, his freckled face, his lovely gentle mouth, his bright eyes always brimming with amusment, his ability to raise her spirits the moment she saw him.

Celia interrupted her thoughts with, ‘See, I knew I was right. You can't decide can you?'

Nancy had to laugh. ‘No, I can't, there's so much for and so much against.'

‘ But he's such fun. Very resourceful in a crisis, reliable you know. And very much in need of loving, he's vulnerable. Don't break his heart.'
This made Nancy laugh. ‘Johnny? Vulnerable? He's tough, that's what. Otherwise how could he cope with midget submarines? I only have to think about him in one of those blessed things and I feel terrible. So small, dozens of feet under the sea, cramped, nowhere to be alone. I don't know how he copes.'

‘ Don't give him the elbow and then regret it all the rest of your life, that's all.'

Nancy stood up. ‘He's fallen head over heels in love with me, but I don't think I have with him. I won't go out, thanks. Do you mind?'

‘ No, that's fine.'

Nancy went back to her room opened her bedside drawer and from the back of it took out his letters tied together with a bright blue ribbon she'd saved from happier times. She only had to begin unfastening the ribbon to feel that wonderful warm comforting sensation of being young and secure in the halcyon days before the war. Secure that is until one day she was called up, hauled out from the insurance company where she worked as a secretary and without so much as a by-your-leave was serving in the Navy. If that hadn't happened she would never have met him.

There were ten letters, each and everyone written with such insight, so beautifully phrased, his love so exquisitely expressed, she felt certain they ranked amongst the finest love letters in the world. Nancy couldn't count how many times she'd read them, each time they reminded her so powerfully about how much he loved her. She put them all back in their envelopes, retied the blue ribbon and reverently placed them back in the drawer. What would Johnny think if he knew she still had them tucked away?

But marry Johnny? Did he indeed want to marry for life, or simply want a whirlwind romance and a whirlwind marriage, then. . . . . . She'd seen that so often these last two years, heard the the weeping of the bereaved in the dark hours of the night when their husband had been lost at sea, blasted out of their ships or blown to smithereens in some distant land. She wasn't going to have that grief. No. Definitely not.

All too soon the alarm was going, all too soon she was off on the bus back to duty. It was a beautiful peaceful night, a blue sky with a gentle breeze and Nancy thought of Johnny, where was he right now? Tonight the bus was dropping off wrens and seamen at the harbour before going on to where she worked. When they reached the harbour to everyone's astonishment it was filled with landing craft, bobbing on the tide. Waiting. A babble of conversation broke out. ‘Tonight's the night then.' ‘Look at them!' ‘Pity them!'

A shiver ran down Nancy's back. God help them all. One thing it'll be a busy tonight. Next the bus pulled up outside the big house where Nancy worked. From the outside it had all the appearance of a very pleasant place to work but it was house with a secret. Beneath it was a tunnel deep underground reached through a simple door in room 16, where a Royal Navy signals department worked. When that simple door was opened the steps went down. Down. Down. All one hundred and twenty two of them.

At the bottom a warren of rooms filled with people accepting, transmitting Royal Navy signals, machines working, typewriters clattering, people walking about, urgent news to be sent wherever needed. Excitement ran high that night and they were worked at top speed all night long. This was what the whole nation had been waiting for. D-Day Tuesday 6th June 1944, and they were in the thick of it.
When Nancy finally climbed the steps to go off duty the next morning, she was so exhausted she thought she would never reach the top. Her biggest worry was Johnny. He couldn't tell her anything at all about his work because it was top secret, but she knew he would have been at sea that night without doubt.

That terrible feeling of claustrophobia came over her as it always did when she thought about Johnny being at sea; the squeezing of her lungs, the breathlessness, the sweating. She reached the top of the steps and stood in the house breathing deeply. Someone went past and said sympathetically, ‘Get's yer like that doesn't it? Been an exciting night, eh! Lovely morning today, go outside, take some deep breaths.'

‘ Thanks, I will.' Sympathy was welcome but they didn't really know what had caused her to feel suffocated. Johnny? You safe? You deep down under the waves, dead? Well, are you Johnny?

Nancy went to wait for the bus with the other girls who'd been on duty all night. Despite their exhaustion, they were laughing and talking excitedly about the nights events.

‘ You're Johnny's in the midget subs isn't he, Nancy?'

‘ That's right. Why?'

She saw someone nudge the girl who'd spoken and it made her shut up.

‘ Well? Why do you ask?'

‘ Oh! It's nothing. Doesn't matter.'

‘ Before the bus gets here, tell me what you were going to say?'

‘ Doesn't matter.'

But Nancy insisted.

‘ Well, anyway, I just heard that one of the subs had had to surface because of damage. That's all. It probably wasn't your Johnny anyway. Oh! Here's the bus.'

Nancy'd only been asleep a couple of hours when she was wakened by a frightening nightmare. Water was washing into her lungs, she was swirling in deep water with waves so powerful she had no strength to swim, helplessly she swirled about, sinking deeper and deeper. She sat up almost screaming out with fright. Was it Johnny? Had he been drowned? Shelled out of the water? Smashed to pulp? That laughing, happy face gone forever?

Her mouth was fearfully dry, she padded off to the washrooms to get a glass of water. Sitting on her bed, sipping from the glass, her hand reached out for those letters which always brought her such comfort. But then drew back. This wasn't the moment for those letters, not with Johnny perhaps under the waves. At the moment Johnny was the reality.

There was no more sleep to be had. So she got up took a bath, put on fresh uniform, tilted her hat to what she called a jaunty angle to give herself courage, and set off to get news of Johnny. The love letters crackled as she walked, she hadn't read them again, but they comforted her just by being in her pocket.

There were various ways by which she could find out about Johnny, and it was difficult to decide which one to try first. She was being a fool really, but staying in her room knowing nothing was pointless. There might be nothing to find out, the midget subs might not yet be back, on the other hand. . . . .There had been a signal about a sailor's body washed up on a beach in the early hours, and the coastguard had not been discreet about the condition of it. But then there were hundreds and hundreds of sailors in the Channel that night and would be for days, there was no reason it should be Johnny. She remembered a story Johnny loved to tell, and thinking of it brought back to her the smell of the soap he used, she could feel the strength of his arms, the power his smile had over her, a smile that could turn her legs to jelly.Was she to lose all that? Johnny! Johnny!

The harbour was as busy this morning as it had been last night. If it wasn't for the fact that there was remorseless death and destruction just a couple of hours away, it could have been a sight to enjoy. She stood for a moment at the harbour gates wondering if she could slip in when the guard's attention was taken. To her delight the guard assumed she was reporting for duty and waved her through. It looked like chaos on the quayside, but a purposeful chaos. So, was Johnny here then?

No, he wasn't. Quite by chance she saw someone who knew Johnny and asked him if there was any news. But he shrugged and walked on. This blessed secrecy. He probably knew but couldn't tell. Or did he know he was dead and daren't tell her? That was it. He was dead. A yearning for Johnny stirred deep inside herself. Was this love then, when she'd sworn she wouldn't become involved with anyone else after. . . . . . .Perhaps it was. But different from. . . . . This time it was much more exciting, far more tempestuous, not like before when she and Guy had loved each other since they were children, grown up together and loved sensibly and full of confidence they were made for each other. With Johnny everything was in brilliant technicolour, with. . . . .with Guy the world had been pale blues and soft greens. No flashing explosions, no climbing peaks like with Johnny.

Nancy left the confines of the harbour, and decided to walk as far as she could towards where she was quartered, and when she grew too tired to walk any further she'd catch the local bus. Stepping out in the fresh air revitalised her and she pressed on welcoming the exercise. When she'd had enough Nancy sat down on a wall to await the bus. The rustle of the letters in her pocket reminded her of Guy and the temptation to read them again came over her, lost in reading the letters the traffic passed by unnoticed.

She'd got as far as the fourth letter when a voice shouted. ‘Nancy! Nancy! What are you doing here?'

It was Johnny! Johnny! A rush of love for him exploded inside her and Nancy sprang to her feet forgetting the letters. Johnny jumped off the navy bus and waved it off. They rushed towards each other and hugged and kissed as though they hadn't seen each other for years. But she didn't care! He was safe. All that worry and here he was.

‘ I've been down to the harbour to ask for news about you, but I knew no one would tell me even if they knew.'

‘ You worry too much. I'm here. Got six hours off and then I'm back on duty.'

‘ I know you can't say anything about what you've been doing, but you're not injured or anything are you?'

His lovely eyes twinkled, his gentle mouth kissed hers, his arms wrapped around her firmer and tighter than ever. ‘No. I am not. I'm all in one piece. What shall we do with this precious six hours? Eh?'

A gust of wind blew a letter onto the road at their feet.

The letters!

Johnny picked it up. ‘Here look this is yours.'

Nancy hurriedly scrabbled to pick them up and to snatch hold of the one Johnny was holding. She'd never intended for him to see these.

‘ It's an airmail. Don't tell me you've got someone besides me.'

The laughter had gone from his eyes and his mouth thin and stern with shock.

In a very soft voice Nancy said, ‘Look at the date of the letter.'

Johnny looked. ‘January16th.1942. Singapore. What does this mean?'

Johnny was angry, more angry than she'd ever seen him before. ‘You've been writing to this. . . . .' he flicked to the end of the letter and saw the name, ‘this Guy all this time?'

‘ It was all before I met you. That letter was the last one he ever wrote. He was killed a month later when Singapore fell.'

Johnny saw the other letters scattered about. ‘All these.'

‘ Johnny, please. You must understand. We were childhood sweethearts. The love Guy and I had was a pale shadow of what you feel. Believe me, please.'

‘ Tell me about him.'

‘ Why? You've only got six hours.'

But he insisted. ‘Tell me.'

So she did. About the wonderful times they'd had, about how heartbroken she'd been when he'd been called up at the beginning of the War. About the shock when he'd died on board a ship as it left Singapore harbour. ‘He'd have been home, you see, if it hadn't been for that Japanese shell. You've saved my sanity. But for you, I'd have been a wreck.'

The anger had gone from his voice, all he needed now was to understand how she felt. ‘Is that all I mean to you then? That I've saved you from going mad?'

Nancy shook her head. ‘When I heard you shout my name just now , I thought I would explode with happiness. Here, look, read a letter of his. You'll see I couldn't help but love him.'

They sat together on the wall while Johnny read the last love letter from Guy. When he finished it he carefully put it back in its envelope and said quietly. ‘I shall never be capable of writing a letter like that, ever, in all my life. It was beautiful. I can see why you kept it. You must have been very precious to him.'

Nancy nodded.

‘ Mine's a kind of robust love, Nan. Just as strong, but different. I saw your face when you realised it was me and for one wonderful moment I believed you loved me. After reading this I can understand why you can't, not completely anyway.'

Nancy stroked his hair back from his forehead, smoothed her thumbs across his eyelids, put a finger to his lips, with her finger she followed the line where four days growth of beard reached the smooth skin of his cheeks, and leant forward to kiss his lips. ‘Oh! Johnny! While I've been worrying about you I've realised you mean more to me than I could ever have thought possible. I love you.'

Despite his weariness Johnny grinned. ‘I love you, Nan. You're the first girl I've ever said that to.'

A stiff breeze got up and the letters blew off the wall into the field, but Nancy didn't notice. You see she'd promised herself she'd throw them away if only he came back to her; and he had.