by Vicky Unwin
It was nice to hear you last night – I hope all my things arrive safely. I’ve just seen Sybil off. Wasn’t it sweet of her to come over, it made such a difference as it would have been horrid spending the evening alone. A lovely day here – am getting quite excited about it all.
Must rush now
Heaps of love
Sheila
Sheila was not allowed to tell anyone apart from her parents where or how she was going, so the few letters written from on board give nothing away. However, she kept a copy of her joining instructions, which contain some rather intimidating ‘notes’:
Every member of the party is to remember that the reputation of the WRNS in Alexandria will depend largely upon the impression which they make. It is hoped that everyone will both in their conduct and appearance, maintain the traditions of the service.
On board, ratings may wear ‘bluette overalls in warm weather to save the washing of white dresses … gloves are not worn with white uniform’. Civilian clothing was not to be worn throughout the voyage save for ‘sports kit or fancy dress’ but could be worn on arrival in Alexandria on leave of ‘24 hours or longer, for recreation, for private dances outside any Naval, Military or RAF establishment’.
Like a school uniform list, the WRNS kitting list is extremely detailed and specifies approved suppliers. The rules of underwear were very strict:
For Alexandria a slightly larger quantity of underwear will be required than is necessary in England owing to the frequent need for frequent changes in a hot climate.
White knickers, closed at the knee, must be worn with white uniform. White petticoats will be required.
Anything tight or ‘scratchy’ is very uncomfortable in a hot climate.
Wrens were also advised not to drink the tap water, not go about in bare feet as ‘many unpleasant germs lurk in the dust’, and warned not to go to sleep inadequately covered for fear of catching ‘severe cold, stomach and back ache’.
Nevertheless life on board the three-month journey on HMST Nea Holland was not all bad. Sheila managed to post a couple of short letters in February before they left for Africa, where she reports that ‘nothing seems to have happened. We have plenty to eat, but at odd hours’.
Rather blighted by the rules of censorship, ‘there seem to be orders everywhere telling you what you mustn’t say … I’m absolutely certain my other letters won’t have got through the censor all right, as though I thought I was being most discreet, I gather I said quite the wrong things!’
24 February
… However, here I am, quite well, and feel I’m getting fatter every moment – because all we seem to do is eat – hundreds of other people seem to be writing terrific letters at great length. 2 and 4 pages, but I cannot think of anything to tell you. Oh yes I can – we have started classes today learning the language – a dear old boy is teaching us – so far we have collected reams of words, but I find it very difficult to remember them all, as yesterday – I can’t imagine why – I started to learn Turkish, but have given it up, temporarily anyway.
We’ve had 2 P.T. classes which have been rather fun, but most strenuous – but no doubt very good for us. One dance, and one cinema show have also been arranged, but for some reason both have been cancelled.
Sheila was to make some good friends on the long voyage, among them Diana Chard, later Booth, and a longstanding boyfriend, Robin Chater, described on first meeting as ‘quite nice, musical and theatrical and may prove quite fun’.
In March they make their first landfall in, I believe, Sierra Leone and she writes a more detailed letter, which gives a good idea of the daily routine on board ship – mainly a lot of eating and drinking:
13th March 1942
My dear Mummy and Daddy –
You won’t have got my last effort yet, I know, but here is another note to add to the collection – the 4th I’ve written since we started, I think. Well life is progressing according to plan, though it’s still a trifle boring – rising, eating, boat drill, drinking, eating, deck games, tea, drinking, eating, drinking then a spell on the deck, and so to bed. However, we have been ashore once – very lucky too, we were. When we got ashore, we were met by 2 naval officers, who drove us off in their car, the Wrens following in a lorry. Then we drove through villages to the town and then on to bathe on a lovely beach with great waves breaking on the shore – it was very warm – about 90 degrees F I should think. The natives were interesting and also very interested – their funny clothes and houses amused us terribly, and all around were thickly wooded hills, and lovely flowers all very brightly coloured. After one bathe we had tea and returned to the Base for dinner. By that time it was dark and we were driven 6 in the car, up into the hills to see what it was like by night. So cool and refreshing and very different from the sticky heat we’d been accustomed to. Then we had to head back to the base as we were due to take the Wrens off at 2015. It was grand fun.
I have turned a marvellous brown – my legs and arms at least – I just can’t imagine what it’s like at home now – I suppose you are still wearing thick overcoats and not even thinking of spring clothes at all – I feel quite ashamed of the amount of food there is to eat.
… I refuse course after course every meal including breakfast. Also chocolate in profusion and I have even just bought a fountain pen, as mine has died on me temporarily!
The sea is such a marvellous blue it has to be seen to be believed. I’m told it’s the salt in it which makes it so – also, we see quite a different set of stars as the time wears on – it’s great fun helping to find out what they are and we gaze at them every night, after dinner, when it is cool. We even had a dance on deck one night, but it was rather hot, though great fun.
Laundry is rather bad still, but I managed to wash 2 of my white frocks the other day – but it was the ironing that floored me completely – I just couldn’t get there today and in the end was so hot I felt as if someone was continuously spraying me with a hose – horrible! However we have just acquired a batman – a dear little man – and he cleans our shoes and brushes our clothes and generally makes life more pleasant. We don’t even have to make our beds now, as we had a bust up with one steward, and the lazy hound was somewhat galvanised into action after that.
We’ve had one or two lectures lately on Naval affairs, and are having another one tomorrow on submarines at my request. Goody, it certainly makes something for us to do – and the Wrens too …
Our language classes are growing more and more muddly – don’t think I shall ever be much good (which reminds me I haven’t done my homework yet!) I find I took deplorably few books with me, and have to rely on other people for amusement, bar knitting. What did you get with my book token, Mummy? Something nice I hope. My rug is doing more than it’s ever done before – working overtime in fact because we always sit on rugs on the deck, not in chairs. I am very annoyed, all those shampoos you bought have inadvertently been put in my case which is in the hold, and I’ve now to rely on Lux – or the ship’s barber who is quite good really. We have a ship’s sweep every day, but I’ve won nothing yet; also housie-housie games about once a week – Margot won twice running the other night, but it’s a very poor game really!
There is an escaped monkey on board which tears about the rigging madly, and behaves in a very queer fashion. No one has been able to catch it yet, but we throw it bananas, so it does get something to eat. Somebody alas saw a rat on our deck last night – so I do hope it doesn’t mean we’re due for a nocturnal visitation tonight! Thank heavens I’ve a top bunk. I’d be terrified if I saw a rat peering at me in the dim light of morning!
I think I’ve exhausted my present stock of news pro tem, but I may be able to add more later on, before the mail goes.
I sent you a cable the other day, but it was impossible to send them in the end, so it was withdrawn – Pity – I’d picked a most suitable 3 groups from the list they gave us!
No air mail, I hear, so you’ll probably get this in 6/8 w
eeks’ time. Doesn’t it seem ages? I’m just rushing off to my lessons, so no more.
Heaps of love
Sheila
Finally, towards the end of April – after three long months and another glorious stopover, this time in Cape Town – the Nea Holland docks in Port Said, and Sheila joyfully writes to her parents, scrawled with numerous PS’s indicating her excitement:
Alexandria
23/4/42
HMS Nile
c/o GPO London EC1
Did you get my cable I sent in March?
Love to R what is her address?
1st two letters arrived today. Will answer later!
Dear Mummy and Daddy
Look at the address and you will realise your fears are over! They were quite groundless too but none-the-less inevitable I suppose! We thoroughly enjoyed the journey – the second part better than the first I think because we had made quite a lot of friends on board. I told you about the first time we went ashore – well the second was even better; I can’t mention names, but I had a parcel of stockings sent to you, Mummy, so you’ll probably gather from that (hope they aren’t too thick – will send some more, and cosmetics and food soon). There was plenty to see at this place and we took the girls out in two buses one morning all around the countryside. It would have made your hearts bleed to see the fruit – it was marvellous and so cheap. The country was very beautiful and the sea lovely – in fact, lots of people have lost their hearts to the place and want to live there après la guerre – (Not me tho’). People were extraordinarily kind and dances were arranged for us, though I think they were more interested in the men! 2 nights running we went to an awfully nice club to dance, and of course there were various preceding parties. On the last day there, another girl and I, Diana, decided to spend the day on our own, so we set off for a well-known bathing beach, munching gorgeous chocolates all the way. The surf was wonderful, and we had such a good bathe, followed by a long walk along the beach – Then the sun set behind the mountains, so we changed, had dinner (someone insisted on standing us this) and then connected with some friends of her aunt, who lived in the place. They met us in their car and drove us round the country in the dark, and then we visited Diana’s two small cousins, who live here at an old school. About 10.30 we returned to the ship – presumably to bed. However, Diana met a friend of hers on board [Robin Chater] who was feeling rather browned off, so he collected his best friend. We retrieved our passes from the gangway, hired a taxi, and set off for a voyage of exploration – The lights really were LOVELY – I don’t suppose we’ll ever see anything so beautiful until the war’s over. Eventually, after driving round for ages, we stopped at a little roadhouse, where you were served straight in your car; I ate and ate – But that wasn’t all. When we got back to the ship, we had another feast and didn’t get to bed till 4 a.m. – It was such fun – all so spontaneous. This all led to tremendous times once we got going again – there were very few nice people on the boat really. I won the ship’s sweep twice, which I think was rather clever, and of course this called for tremendous celebrations – I’m afraid drinking became rather a bad habit, but not an unbreakable one! We gave a cocktail party to all our friends, and the biggest draft on board (to which Robin belonged) gave one too, and there were various private parties happening all the time. I borrowed a lilo and used to sleep on deck a lot, but it meant rising at 6 am, otherwise you got soaked by the hoses cleaning the decks! I’m afraid I never became much good at the language classes, but it does form a basis to start from – we were all very sorry to leave, really, and as a matter of fact, 5 of us nearly got left behind, but managed to get off an hour or so later – We had a hurried meal, and then were headed into a train (sleepers) and next morning we were here. Alas, tho’, I felt terribly tired and retired to bed – Next day still felt tired, had the doctor who announced I had German Measles!! So I was carted off to Hospital, where I still am – quite well now and happy. But rather tired of being shut away. Another girl from my cabin has joined me, and quite a lot of people came to see us. We had O/E Troops from the ship yesterday, who is stationed near us and who promises us lots of parties when we recover. Phil’s Naval brother has also been to see us and our doctor sends in his sister and cousin periodically so we are well looked after! I don’t know what my work will be yet – probably starting next week –I have had NO mail from you – how have you been writing? Airgraph is the quickest – you can write several in continuation, if you have lots to say, or air mail P/C is pretty quick – Letters not so good but air mail is the only way. Otherwise it takes 3 months!! The weather is very pleasant, quite cool and we are still in blues – I wish I had brought a few more warm things with me … They’re very strict about long hair – mine will have to come off, I can see!! We have to chaperone the ratings to dances and get them back by 10.30 and also sleep in the convent where they live for the night. We are living in a hotel pro tem, but our Quarters will be ready soon – I haven’t seen Bert – he is quite a way away, I hear, but have seen old Kay Way, who used to share my room in Methil – What has happened about my watch? Have you heard from Mary Dugdale? I would very much like to be in England now – it must be looking lovely, with all the green trees and flowers – there are lots of flowers and trees here – I was surprised. But they are all bright and palm-like. We get one of these letter cards a week – I will write that, or an airgraph weekly, with an air mail letter thrown in occasionally for any extra news and snaps. Have not been able to send cables from here yet as have been shut up!!
Tons of love – Sheila
With Diana Chard in Cape Town.
The airgraph became the standard method of letter-writing, but space was limited, hence all Sheila’s letters from here onwards appear in one long paragraph and jump from subject to subject, in a very modern stream-of-consciousness fashion; she hopes her parents won’t mind the ‘squashiness’. This gives them a breathless and enthusiastic tone, a true reflection of her first impressions of life in Alexandria.
Alexandria is an ancient city, built in 330BC on the orders of Alexander the Great, after whom it is named. It was the most important provincial capital of the Roman Empire and boasted the lighthouse, Pharos, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, was home to Cleopatra and was conquered briefly by Napoleon, but retaken by the British in 1801. King Farouk had a summer palace there and, in keeping with his lavish lifestyle, infuriated his people and the British by burning the lights all night during the blackout.
In the Second World War it was of great strategic importance to the British and the Allies; it was a bitter blow when it was raided by Italian submarines in 1941 and the Valiant and Queen Elizabeth were sunk and put out of action.
Because of its location, Alexandria was a Levantine city, full of Greeks, Jews, Italians, French and, of course, during the war, British. It was a city renowned for its depravity as well as its cosmopolitanism; its most famous son is the poet Cavafy, whose main themes are sensuality, homosexuality, uncertainty about the future, all in the context of the great Hellenistic tradition. E.M. Forster, T.S. Eliot and David Hockney have all paid tribute to his genius. He encapsulates Alexandria’s schizophrenic character.
To get a flavour of the city that was to be Sheila’s home, you can do no better than to read Lawrence Durrell’s Alexandria Quartet, a long love-song to the city, both rich and poor:
Capitally, what is this city of ours? What is resumed in the word Alexandria? In a flash my mind’s eye shows me a thousand dust-tormented streets. Flies and beggars own it today – and those who enjoy an intermediate distance between either. Five races, five languages, a dozen creeds … Fragments of every language – Armenian, Greek, Amharic, Moroccan Arabic; Jews from Asia Minor, Pontus, Georgia: mothers born in Greek settlements on the Black Sea; communities cut down like branches of trees, lacking a parent body, dreaming of Eden. These are the poor quarters of the white city; they bear no resemblance to those lovely streets built and decorated by foreigners where the brokers sit and si
p their morning papers. Even the harbour does not exist for us here. In the winter, sometimes, rarely, you can hear the thunder of a siren – but it is another country. Ah! The misery of harbours and the names they conjure when you are going nowhere. It is like a death – a death of the self uttered in every repetition of the word, Alexandria, Alexandria.6
For the British forces it was a very different city; although Sheila enjoyed visiting the bazaar and bargaining for goods, I am sure she never went anywhere near the notorious red light area, around the Rue des Soeurs (named after a convent; I wonder if it was one of the ones where Sheila stayed?) and the backdrop for several of Lawrence’s novels.
Her second letter begins to describe her living conditions, work and the daily routine. I still have the portrait referred to in the letter, by a Polish artist she met in Methil:
27.04.42
Dear Mama and Papa –
I was so pleased to get your two letters Mummy – they both came together the day I wrote my last letter card.
I hope you’re both well – I’m quite recovered now – I came out of hospital on Friday last, all spots now vanished and I started work for the first time today. Naturally I can’t tell you what it’s all about, but I do find it most interesting and think I’ll like it very much once I get the hang of things. We are still living in a hotel and a big Naval brake calls for me in the morning – on the way we pick up the rest of the office – We have a whole brake of our own; all the other people working with me are men – a great change from my last Base! Our offices overlook the harbour [hole in letter so a guess] and all the ships, and we have a lovely garden so I think we are very lucky. I went into town today to have my hair done, and I bumped into old Kay Way – poor dear, she had a cable the other day to say her mother had died, but she has borne it very well, and is quite her cheerful self. Did you hear from Mary Dugdale by the way? I gather my watch should be on its way by now! Which of the crayon sketches did you like so much? The portrait, or the one sitting down? I think the portrait was excellent really. He was a dear little man – maybe I’ll see him out here – there seem to be plenty of his compatriots about. Diana Chard, one of the girls who came out with me is being married on Saturday to a Padre here who is running a club for boys under 20. They are going to do the show together, and she was specially made a Wren and sent out here for the purpose. She is a sweet girl and my best friend so far – it was with her I had so much fun the 2nd time we went ashore … I had a long letter from one of our boat companions, Robin, the other day, and we hope he and 1 of his friends will be able to come for the wedding. We move into Quarters on Friday – the 1st lot have already gone in. I hope to share a room with 1 of my draft but may be shoved in with 5 others. Not so good! My watches are very queer too. At times I go on watch at 0400 (that’s am) and also come off at 0400 on other days – a grim prospect! I still haven’t been able to send you my arrival cable – isn’t it awful? We are told to send them through Naval sources and I’ve not been able to find out quite how to do it. Will try again tomorrow – but anyway you’ve probably got my 1st letter card by now. Hope so. The shops here are quite good – lovely shoes, flowers, confectionery, but otherwise things are frantically expensive. I’m thinking of sending you a parcel of things including soap and soap flakes because somebody has just told me how hard the rationing is and of course we don’t come in for that racket … Yesterday evening we went to a cocktail party in one of the Naval establishments – their C/O travelled out with us and so we know him quite well. They have invited us to go there at any time for a drink, bathe, or dinner etc. The bathing here will be very good. I should think. The sea’s a wonderful blue and we go into whites on Friday. I have done nothing about getting any more made – there hasn’t been a moment but nobody else seems to have done so either. Still, I have 3 nice clean ones. Also I hear we may be probably allowed to wear ordinary stockings, or none at all. White are too grim. A lot of my gramophone records got bent in the heat, but we are able to buy fairly modern ones here, so I don’t mind. I visited my other sick companion yesterday and she was looking very well. Our doctor was very kind to us, bringing all his relations in turn to see us, but it is all rather awkward now I am ‘out’ as I have so little time for going about and we aren’t allowed to wander about after dark. There are 100s of cats here – all very thin and gaunt and of course donkeys and mules by the 1000s. Cars go on the right hand side, and everyone tries to rook you right and left. There seem to be so many Jews and Greeks and rather oily looking creatures about the place, almost all the women seem to wear black, very dreary. They have most queer sort of trams, rather like tubes they are (gosh the cats are squealing!) on special sort of fenced rails – The food is marvellous, I eat far too much – ice cream, fruit, lots of poultry and everything very beautifully cooked. I wonder what it will be like in Quarters? Do keep on writing, weekly and I will do the same. Try an airgraph now and again – sometimes they are surprisingly quick. I had a letter forwarded from L. Links the other day which must have come out with us, as it came by sea. I do love to hear all the news for although I think I’ll like this place very much once I get to know a lot of people and get used to my work, it’s such fun to hear what’s going on at home. Do let me know if there’s any special rationed thing you’d like or anything queer you’re short of. We’d probably be able to get it here.
