WW2 Era Letter Written by British Serviceman. He writes of his stay in Brussels, Bombing Jerries, and many other topics.

[Heartfeltzero]

This letter was written by a L/Cpl. Eldridge. He was a British Serviceman serving with the British Liberation Army. I don’t have any additional information on him unfortunately. The letter reads:

“ My own precious darling,

To my delight, your letter of last Wed and your “S.T.” of Feb 18 arrived by today’s post. I hope the regular delivery keeps up. Due to the better weather, I suppose.

Glad you enjoyed the jaunt to Barnstaple, and got the desired book. Now I suppose you are deep in the turmoils of wing 3 again, a leave is a memory. Wish you could have had a more enjoyable time though, because I think you were a little bored at times, weren’t you? You badly need a change from old and I wished you’d been able to spend a few days in London, or even a day at Torquay. Did you get down to much painting, and draw up a new program for the art class? I believe I detect a certain amount of disinterestedness on your part, a kind of feeling of lethargy. I get an awful amount of it here. Nothing seems to be worth while, except thinking of you and writing to you as often as possible.

Lord! How I miss you, my dearest. I’m always thinking of you, and wondering how much longer it’s going to be before we are together again. One day passes another, and the weeks pass by reasonably quickly. But, oh God! It seems an awful time to wait, even until June, and then only 9 days with you. During that spell of leave in Brussels, I longed for you to be at my side, exploring the town. Can’t say I enjoyed it overmuch. It made a break from the normal routine, and for that reason I was glad of it. The trouble was not hearing from you, and not being able to write to you. I hated that part of it, as my nightly letter to you, and the almost daily receipt of your letters is like having a chat with you every day. I spend most of my leisure writing to you. You know!

You mention my getting aquatinted with the pretty girls in Brussels. Really I’m surprised at you! There were plenty of women there fishing for tommies willing to part with their cards for a short span in their company. In fact, it was impossible to walk along the street at night without being accosted frequently. Horrible creatures, most of em. Some of them even put their arm through yours and walk along by your side whispering their revolting words in your ear. However, they got no custom or hearing from yours truly, I needn’t say! And then, if you buy a newspaper from a man in the street, like it or not he will produce a packet of filthy utterly obscene snapshots from his pocket surreptitiously and offer them to you in a wheedling whisper! And the touts who offer you “exhibitions” for 100 (???). I needn’t say these “exhibitions” are perverse sexual acts performed by nude women in a small room. By the way, incase you wonder how I’ve acquired all this knowledge, I hasten to assure you that I knew about Brussels years ago, from various acquaintances of mine who have wasted their money on these so-called “sights”.

No Darling, Brussels hasn’t any beautiful women. Only blousy tarts. How some men can get mixed up with such trollops is beyond me. And many of them respectable married men, too! I suppose they fancy themselves as men of the world or something. My sainted aunt! What a lot of adolescence there is! As for myself, I’m content to have a dearly beloved wife, who I shall one day have the exquisitive joy happiness to live with for good. Sexually and spirituality you can do me more good than any amount of pretty prostitutes and beautiful words. I’m impervious to em! Oh, it’s grand, this deep love for one’s wife, body and soul, the greatest thing in the world. Wonderful, to be so sure of one’s love, and the happy future. If I were older, I could endure the strain of this awful separation without so much physical agony. But being (comparatively) young and still virile, I go to bed at nights absolutely aching for you, and only you. Nobody else would do. Darling, I do love you so, and I’m always saying it. One more again. I have in my imagination love scenes with you, and invent little stories in bed sometimes. Darling, you’re been raided many times times in my imagination since I’ve been here!

Have been wondering how you spent this weekend. The weather was grand yesterday, but deteriorated today, with a cold wind and grey sky. However, the rain kept off, and I went for a short walk this afternoon. Was glad to get back, though, for two reasons. One was the chilly(?) and the other a bladder at bursting point which I shrank from relieving en route owing to a lack of loos(?). Not that anyone would have taken any notice in this amazing country, but I haven’t yet gone native, I must assure you. Which reminds me. I mentioned in one of my post Brussels letters that I’d visited the famous Manneken Statue. The true title of it is “Manneken Pis” and the statue depicts a small boy from whose infantile member a stream of water issues. There are several souvenir, serving shops around the place full of photographs and made postcards in French and English.

There are little brass statuettes of the thing, and it’s even possible to get a China working model! Truly an amazing country, this! At certain times of the year the statue is dressed up in various uniforms, I don’t know why. My rather straight-laced lancashire pal was somewhat embarrassed I think, but I’m ashamed to say I found the whole thing somewhat amusing. I believe i should have been amused even if you had been with me, especially by your blushes.

Saw old Maurice Gord today, with the old (?) crowd. He’s looking very fit, and quite fat in the face. The country must suit him! I was surprised to hear from him that Johnny was discharged sometime last year before he left the UK. I haven’t heard any news of him since he was taken to hospital with some internal trouble. Must be rather serious to get his ticket on it.

The news is becoming exciting again, with this new Yank offensive. The Jerries are getting really rattled now, and the terrific bombing from the air must be making a sorry mess of their communication. The spell of fine weather we had was a glorious opportunity. And pretty soon there’ll l be another bash from old uncle Joe in the East. Let’s see, Mar 15, that’s less than 3 weeks ahead, isn’t it? Well, well, old Moore may be a good prophet after all!

Have been immersed in a crime novel these last couple of days. “Murder on the Links” by Agatha Christie. I loathe reading this type of book, and usually try to avoid them. If I do manage to let myself in for one, I get stuck in it and can’t leave the damned thing until I’ve read it! And then I chuck it aside cursing the waste of time! Still, this one wasn’t too bad, easy enough for me to spot one or two things, though I failed miserably to pick out the murderer. Agatha Christie always keeps a surprise up her sleeve for the last few pages.

Sorry my letter N°. 49 got delayed, can’t think why. However, yours of last Sat. suffered the same fate, so maybe the delay was due to the same cause. Hope it’s turned up by now.

Thanks for getting the galoshes darling. It will do next time you send a parcel off. I’m sure fairly well stocked for the other toilet necessities, but shall have to rely on you within a month or so!

We look like having a fairly quiet time at the office for the next day or so, as the (?) A/C has been finally closed down, after much nerve-strain on the part of the S.L. Poor old Mac, he gets himself in a real stew when the work piles up and the staff goes down!! As for me, (?) as we say in our perfect French! I don’t care a (?) damn these days. Different from the conscientious worker of POII Orders Sect. at Hq. You wouldn’t know me! Mind you, I daresay my old interest would return if I had that job back. In fact the old morale would be soaring in the heights if we were together again.

And now I must bid you “Goodnight” again, my Angel. All my fondest love, and kisses for you from top to toe,

Your always adoring,

Guy “

[Adrian]

"Blousy tarts". I had to laugh out loud at that expression. Dear Eldridge must've been related to Shakespeare somewhere down the line with his writing!

Fascinating once again and clearly a man of strict morals and an aversion to getting the clap. Amazing to think he wouldn't even take a leak unless it was in a lavatory.

So many men from all walks of life with very different codes of conduct.

[Heartfeltzero]

I thought it was humorous as well haha.

[Willmore]

Hi JB.

Another great read.

I haven't heard the word 'trollop' for a long time, it is UK slang for a vulgar or disreputable woman, especially one who is sexually promiscuous.

Kind regards,

Will.