Indomitable Presence: The Slim Mother of Twins in the Red Dress

MEMOIRS OF ALICE ELLEN COTTINGHAM (continued)

HAVING A FAMILY DURING THE WAR (in her own words)

I began to feel a lot healthier when I was around eighteen. On holiday in Jersey at that time, I was willing to enter into everything in the holiday camp, and was voted most popular girl.

I went to a dance, a local hop, in a church hall. I was with three girlfriends. I did not see Eric in the hall but when we were walking down the road, four girls all arm in arm, this young man runs down the road after us and comes between the lot of us. I was the one who lived farthest, so he walked me home. [Eric was her future husband Eric Harry Johnson]

I went on holidays then with Eric. We went to Cornwall, Devon and North Wales. We did lots of walking – I was then about 22 years old. We used to go dancing or go up to Town on Saturday nights with all our friends and family. We would walk around the West End of London, have a couple of drinks, thoroughly enjoy ourselves and come home.

We decided to get married in 1938. At that time, Eric was into the long distance walking and I used to walk with him when he trained. When he walked the London-Brighton Road Walk, I got the train and took his change of clothes so that when he got there he could change and we could go out and have a meal and go to the pictures – and then take the train home from Brighton. We had a very good courtship.

When the War did not come as expected in 1938, we decided to get married on the 24th June 1939. But in August, Eric was gone – drafted into the Territorial Army. So that wasn’t it! He was sent to Thames Haven and I used to go around the different camps to see him. We rented as house at 240 Clockhouse Road in Elmers End, near Beckenham. Once I got home to find water pouring down the stairs – the upstairs tank had burst.

I was a fully qualified milliner by then who made hats from scratch on the wooden head blocks. I had been working on the tables doing piece work for a couple of years when the fur lady said ‘I am picking three of you ladies out to make me hats that are fashionable’. We were given the material and left to make up a design.

When I made my four hats, three of them went into the show room and they received huge orders on them. So I became a hat designer with the head designer and stayed there for six years. I used to go to the show room and model the hats for the buyers. I don’t know why he chose me as I don’t know if I were good looking or not, with my broken nose that I got from the car accident in my earlier years – but I had to have my hair done every other day!

When I got married, we lived on four pounds a week. Our rent was 27s 6d per week and we lived well on the remainder for a couple of months. When my husband was called up for the Army, we got more money but the price of everything went up because of the shortages.

During the War, I went to a farm to get out of London. I was four months pregnant and my husband was stationed at Wittering on a gun site. When I visited him, I stayed on a farm with Mrs Naylor and her husband. They had a little boy and Mrs Naylor was also pregnant. Mrs Naylor had her little baby girl while I was there and I looked after the farm and the farm hands for about four months. Eventually, I could not stand the sight of potatoes, as when the farm boys and girls came in from the fields, there would be a huge dish of mashed potatoes in the middle of the table.

At the farm, if you wanted a bath, you had to pump the water and it was two hundred pumps to get enough water. I left home for Christmas in 1940. My husband, father, grandfather and brother Lionel were at home. My mother had gone up north because she was afraid of the bombs. We had a good Christmas although it was very noisy with the sirens going all the time. My husband left and became an officer in the Army. In the following April, I gave birth to my twin daughters.

When I had twin daughters in 1941, I did not go back to work as the War was on. I did however go for another job and they gave me material to make a trial hat. The hat was to have taken tree days but it only took me one. On the day that I was to start work a bomb fell on the factory – as also happened to my old work place – and so that was the end of the job. So I stayed at home and started dressmaking. My husband Eric was away for nearly five and a half years.

I had not been to a doctor during my pregnancy as I had been away in the country, and so no one told me I was getting too big. When I got too heavy, I went to the Nursing Home and was admitted for three days to try to start the baby coming – but with no luck. I left and went to stay with a friend, Gladys Bell, who live near the Nursing Home, as I lived alone and could not get there in time without an ambulance.

I was so big I could not walk properly and I was getting really uncomfortable – so I went back to the Nursing Home and told them I would throw myself under a train if they did not do something for me as they had no idea what I was going through. The matron gave me a prescription to start the baby and I returned to Gladys’. I took the prescription at 7.30 pm and my waters broke at nine o’clock.

Gladys and her husband Mont took me to the Nursing Home and left quickly as there was an air-raid going on. There were two guns situated by the Home and when they fired, all the beds would move across the floor. They put me in a room at 9.45 pm and nobody came near me until 6.15 am the next day. I was in shocking pain but the nurses were looking after the babies because of the bombing.

Then they took me to the delivery room and I had one baby – but the nurse said ‘don’t relax yet, you are having another baby’. I was so surprised, and when they weighed the babies, one was 7lb 4oz and the other 6lb 10oz. They were beautiful babies and the biggest on the ward. I was in the Nursing Home for 17 days as I was not fit enough to come out.

The twins were born on 8th April. Someone sent their father a telegram but he could not get there for a week. The Matron took him to the nursery and asked him if he could pick out his twin daughters – and he did from the whole nursery as he said that they were the best looking ones.

I lost a lot of blood for weeks but I have never had a blood transfusion in my life. I had to drink three pints of water and three pints of milk every day. I had to pay a guinea a day for my stay while everyone else was charged 4 shillings per day.

Mr Johnson, the paternal grandfather (Keith’s grandfather Harry), used to walk around the Nursing Home like a lord – he was so proud of his granddaughters.

The Matron did not like me, as after I had had the babies at 7.30 am, the doctor did not come until 1.00 pm to stitch me up. He had no chloroform and when I was being stitched up, I screamed the place down – and the Matron said I was a spoilt brat.

When I left, I thought I would show up the Matron and I asked my mother to buy me a new girdle and bring me my red dress that fitted me like a glove so that I could wear the dress when I left the Nursing Home. I walked down the corridor and two doctors were walking towards me with a nurse who told them I was the mother of the beautiful twins. The doctors were amazed to see such a slim woman in a red dress walking towards them. When I got home, I could not wait to get off the red dress and the girdle.

I used to take my twin daughters out in a double perambulator in the summer months all dressed in white laying on white pretty pillowcases. People used to come up and peer into the pram and I used to ask them not to breathe on the babies. Every shop I went into, I had to ask the people not to pick up the babies as everyone wanted to hold them.

I had to beg the milkman to give me more milk as we were rationed for one pint a day. I used to wait until the milkman had finished his round and then buy what he had left over for extra money. I never had enough meat because of the rationing. The twins did not like potatoes but really liked minced meat. I used my meat ration as they were not old enough for a meat ration.

I never had any trouble with the twins but myself, I was in a bad way. All my insides were pulled out and I had to see a gynaecologist and wear something inside for about a year. When I felt better, I used to push them in the pram all the way from Elmers End to Courthill Road in Lewisham. Sometimes my parents would meet me in Catford and take me for a small drink at the Rising Sun. My father would go out to the pram and give the twins a sip.

My twin daughters were about 20 months old when their father was posted overseas on active service. They were going to school when he came back. I used to take them all over the place in the double pushchair, on the buses and taxis. When the war was over - so were the taxi days. I used to take the twins to see the ballet at the Lewisham Hippodrome – this has now been pulled down. We went on the Tune and had days in Town. We got around, even before my husband came home.

When the twins were about two years old, I took them down to Westcott in Surrey to visit the other grandfather (Harry Johnson) who used to take them to the pubs and sit them in the pub gardens and buy them shandies (beer with lemonade). Everywhere I went, people used to make a fuss of them. I used to make all their clothes and always bought them expensive shoes so they looked good.

Initially we lived in Clockhouse Road but moved to 65 Conisborough Crescent, Catford when they were about nine years old. During the War, after the twins had been put to bed, I used to get on the sewing machine and do a lot of dressmaking. I used to cut up blankets and make all sorts of things. Then I started making clothes for other people and that’s how I started my dressmaking business. My next door neighbours used to get very annoyed as they could hear the trundle of the sewing machine through the walls at night.

As the twins grew up, I made all their clothes. I used to make wedding dresses, an awful lot of wedding dresses – I can’t believe I made that many. I also made wedding dresses for both my daughters.

Eric Harry Johnson (my Uncle Eric) - Quiet military hero and champion road walker

'ERIC HARRY JOHNSON'

[in his own words]

Early Years

My name is Eric Harry Johnson. I was born on the 8th of February 1912. My father was Harry Johnson and my mother was Constance Maud Mary Johnson. I was the youngest of three sons of the marriage. Bob was the eldest, his real name was Robert but we called him ‘Bob’. He became an accountant. Cyril was the other brother who was the cleverest of all three. He got both a BA and an MA. Unfortunately he was killed during the 2nd World War in a flying accident.

We all went to the same school which was St John’s Bowyer School, Clapham. I never really reached the academic level of my two brothers. I was constantly reminded of that by the teachers. However, after spending my time there I won a scholarship to Archbishop Temple’s School in Lambeth – where I stayed until I was 16 years of age.

I wasn’t particularly bright but I enjoyed all the sporting activities. When I left school, my father got me a job with a firm of stockjobbers on the London Stock Exchange – where, including the war years, I stayed for 25 years. After that I joined a Yorkshire firm of Wool Brokers on the New London Wool Terminal Exchange. I worked for them for about nine years before moving to the sugar market. There I stayed for 15 years until my retirement.

My earliest recollections of family life were the 1st World War years. I can remember when the Zeppelins raided London we all rushed down to the nearest Underground Station – where we stayed until it was ‘all-clear’. It was very scary.

When I was about 11 years old, the family broke up because we had not paid the rent. We got evicted from our house in Clapham. Bob went to live in digs while Cyril and I went to the Home of the Good Shepherd not far away. It was a very good home. We had a most enjoyable time there.

Work and Marriage

After that, when I started work, the family got together again and we lived in Lewisham to start with and then on to Brockley, and finally in Lee, South East London. That is where I got engaged and from there I left to get married.

When I got married the wife and I lived in 240 Clockhouse Road, Elmer’s End, Kent for 11 years. We moved on to 65 Conisborough Crescent, Catford, SE London, where we remained for about 38 years – before moving to Holly Court, Bellingham Road, Catford in 1988.

Some recollections of my early life were of food shortage during the 1st World War. Things got so bad at times that I would come home and all I had for dinner was a plate of haricot beans. I remember one Christmas we had bloaters for Christmas dinner. However, nobody is to blame for that. The War was won and that was that.

In 1931 I met my wife. I went to a local hop on a Saturday night. I did not see her during the dance and certainly did not dance with her and was rather keen on some other girl. When I got my coat on, I rushed down the road and thinking it was the girl I had been dancing with, I put my arm through hers – and it was the wrong girl. It was my future wife.

Anyway being gallant, I walked he home. We walked right down Lee High Road, Lewisham High Street through Ladywell Recreation Park, up Randlesdown Road, up Canadian Avenue into Bellingham - quite a long walk. I think I got home a bit late that night. I got rollicked by my mother for being out so late.

Anyway, we met up again and she asked me if I would like to go for a walk in the country, on an all-day Sunday hike. We were not alone. I think we went with two other couples. That started our walking activities. From then on, every summer we used to go hiking every Sunday without exception. It did not cost very much. We would take our own grub, have a few beers here and there and a cup of tea. This was mainly in Kent – around Shoreham, Westerham, around Penshurst, Chiddingston (where naughty wives were tied up and punished) – all those places - lovely countryside.

Then we started going on holidays together. We had holidays in Coombe Martin about three times. We had a holiday in Looe, a holiday in Barmouth, Wales, in Bude, and finally we had our honeymoon in Salcombe, Devon. We got married on the 24th of June, 1939.

The Second World War certainly interrupted our married life. For the first six and a half years of married life, the longest period I spent with my wife was two weeks. We had two weeks honeymoon, two weeks at home and I had Territorial Camp for two weeks, and then two weeks at home before I was called up to serve in the Army. Apart from the odd leave, I did not see much of her.

During that time, our twin daughters were born to us, Judith and Gillian. I did not really know them until they were about four and a half years old. We got to know each other and had some very happy times. We went walking quite a bit. We had some nice holidays. We went to Torquay, Minehead, the Isle of Wight. I think the next time was one near Bognor, on a caravan site – and also at Selsea, where we had the most miserable weather for a whole fortnight. The girls quite enjoyed themselves – they met some local lads and we did not see much of them.

My Daughters and my Grandchildren

Both my daughters eventually got married - and my vivid memories of both those weddings are of when I was taking them to the church in the car – I cried. God know why – I suppose it was having lived with them for so long, it was hard to lose them. I suppose we were quite a close sort of family.

Now I would like to mention our grandchildren. Firstly, Fiona and Kirsteen – the daughters of Gillian. We had a lot to do with bringing them up. We used to have them many weekends and also at New Year’s Eve. When they came to us, we would go for a walk around Beckenham Place Park with the dog. In the evening, we always seemed to play cards. I can always remember this because my wife used to provide us with snacks – and they had those sticky twiglet things. When they shuffled the cards, they got sticky and in the end, you could not shuffle them because they got stuck together.

We used to lark about. They used to like me to play that game where I used to say ‘I’m a little Prairie flower, growing wilder every hour, nobody cares to cultivate me, I’m as wild as can be’. When I said ‘as wild as can be’, the girls used to fly up to the end of the room – and then would come back and say ‘do it again’.

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[I checked the reference – and came up with this:

“SONG HIT OF THE CONVENTION
The following song was the song hit of the 9th International Rotary Convention at Kansas City in 1918.
It was sung by everybody upon every occasion outside the regular business sessions of the Convention – and sung once during a Convention session when Andrew Home-Martin of London, England, referred to it.
The last line is repeated while the singer places the tip of his index finger on the crown of his head – and whirls around once in time with the rhythm”.

THE ROTARIAN, August 1918, Vol XIII, No 2]
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Eric continues:

And I can always remember Kirsteen on one New Year’s Eve when she was about four years old – she wanted to stay up and see the New Year in. About 11 o’clock, her eyelids began to fall and we had to keep prodding her to keep her awake. Eventually, she did ‘see’ the New Year in – but did not know much about it!

Then there is Judith’s son Brett, who we saw a lot of when we visited Canada. We often went out with him alone. He seemed to enjoy himself with us. We lost him in Square One Shopping mall and could not find him anywhere – but he eventually turned up. Over in Canada, we were apt to get on the wrong bus to go home. One day Brett said ‘We are on the wrong bus but I know where to get off’ – and when we got off, he said ‘It’s only a short mile back to my house’. This turned out to be about two miles.

Brett always knew what he wanted. He was very fond of the toys you assemble yourself and he used to get round us until we bought the damn thing. It gave him much pleasure putting them together and he used to do it exceptionally well.

Happy Days!

Another recollection I have is of our Christmas parties. We had some hilarious parties. We all seemed to let our hair down and have a good time. I was introduced to all the dances – the jive, the twist and the locomotion. Everybody had to do a ‘turn’. We had An and Lionel do a ‘turn’, the Watts came over and did their ‘turn’, It was real um-dinger times.

Another recollection I have is when Judy came home from an Aquascutum Christmas Party. I think she had so much champagne that when she left, she had no ruddy idea where she was. She came home and thought it must have been past midnight and that we were all in bed, so she locked the doors. In fact, we were out and when we came home we could not get in – so we got the garden prop and hammered it against the window to try to wake her up but it made no difference. We got the dog barking and eventually we had to break a window to get in. Happy days!

My wife and I have been married 56 years. It has been quite a pleasant sort of marriage – we have been very compatible. We have a few arguments but nothing very serious – and it soon blows over. I think at the moment, we are very dependent on one another.

My Dogs

Now I must talk about the dogs in my life .....

..... extensive section follows on ‘Jimp’, ‘Jacko’ and ‘Sandy’ – still avoiding saying anything very personal or anything specific about his own quite considerable achievements in life – this was a stoic and unassuming generation. Finally .....

My Days in the Army

Now I must talk about my days in the Army. I was called up two weeks before the war started and I think it was 1942 when the Army was expanded – they needed more officers. So a bunch of us were sent along for an interview and strangely enough I passed and went on to Shrivenham to a training camp. Most of the time in England, I was on active defense and we guarded things like oil installations, ball bearing factories – but mainly air fields – although I did have a good period on the defense of Liverpool docks, which was a most interesting time.

From there, I was posted to a unit going overseas to make up the numbers. They were ex-regular army units called the Royal Ulster Rifles and, with them, I saw active service in Algeria, Tunisia, Malta, Sicily and both sides of Italy from south to north. Somehow, my face seemed to fit there and I got on very well indeed. Eventually, I got promoted to the rank of Captain.

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THE OFFICIAL STORY:

The 2nd Battalion, London Irish Rifles (Royal Ulster Rifles) was created in April 1939 and brought rapidly to strength. After training and spending some times in coastal defence in England, the battalion was assigned in June 1942 to the 38th (Irish) Infantry Brigade, alongside the 1st Royal Irish Fusiliers (the "Faughs") and the 6th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers (The "Skins", later replaced by the 2nd R Innis Fus). The Brigade landed in North Africa in late 1942 with the 6th Armoured Division, and in March 1943, during the campaign in Tunisia, was transferred to the 78th (Battleaxe) Infantry Division.

Under the prestigious command of the Eighth Army, the 2 LIR were to fight in Sicily, and after crossing to mainland Italy in late September 1943, the battle of Termoli, against the Barbara Line on the River Trigno, the crossing of the River Sangro (Gustav Line) and the battle of Monte Cassino in spring 1944. After a brief spell of rest in Egypt, the Division took again its place on the line of battle, fighting in the Po Valley and the Argenta Gap. The end of the war found the London Irish entering in Austria.
(Source : The London Irish at War : A History of the Battalions of the London Irish Rifles in World War II, by S. T. A. R, London 1949).

The illustration depicts a Bren gunner of the 2 LIR in the Autumn-Winter 1944, when the battalion was fighting for small hills in the Po Valley, between Florence and Bologna in Northern Italy - under the "most depressing weather", as the historian of the London Irish noted – so much for "Sunny Italy".

He wears the standard dress of the British Tommy, with a wool-lined leather jerkin, woollen scarf and gloves for added warmth. His insignia are the "battleaxe" of the 78th Inf Div and, under the rifle-green arm-of-service stripe, the green shamrock of the 38th Irish Brigade. The black triangle on the shamrock is the battalion indicator.
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Eric continues:

I have failed to mention my walking days. When I was a young lad at the Stock Exchange, they had an annual London to Brighton Walk. One year, when I was about 21, I got on my bike and cycled to Purley to watch the walkers go through. I thought – if only I could walk from London to Brighton, I would have achieved something in my life. So, the following year, I did a bit of training and had a go. I finished in about 10 hours 24 minutes.

The second year took about 9 hours 20 minutes. The third year I was getting near the nine hours mark. In the fourth and fifth years I broke nine hours for which I got a medal. I finished second in 1936, 1937 and 1938 – and eventually won it in 1939.

Then the War came and, after the War, they were very keen to get the event started again. I was not particularly interested but I thought that I had better play the game and have a go. I won the next two years in 1947 and 1948. So I won it three times in succession and came in second three times in succession

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Background: London to Brighton Walk

Origins of the Great Race

Early in 1903 William Bramson, a member of the London Stock Exchange, had the idea that the Exchange should join the current craze of pedestrianism, and that members of the House and their clerks be persuaded to attempt to walk from Westminster Bridge to the sea front at Brighton, a distance of 53 miles, in a time of 12 hours and 30 minutes.

Bramson consulted with a few friends in the Market and subsequently a committee was formed and the organisation of the race was put in motion. Some 100 years later members and clerks of the Stock Exchange are still attempting to do the same.

The idea of such an event caught the imagination of the House and soon they had 100 entries. It was decided no charge would be made for entries and that the first man to complete the course would receive a gold medal, value 10 guineas, with second and third medals to the value of 5 guineas each. It was also agreed that there would be a sealed handicap race with a silver cup to the value of 10 guineas to the winner, with prizes to second and third, and that Bramson would be responsible for the handicapping.

Because of the amount of organisation required, it was agreed that the race should be held on the 1st May, that being a Stock Exchange holiday. Entrants started training, some even employed professional trainers, and members were sighted striding through the country roads most weekends.

Near the date several sweep stakes were organised in the House, the largest being in the Kaffir market with a first prize of £350. By the eve of the race bets of several thousands of pounds were made and it was reported some market pitches resembled miniature Tattersalls.

On the day of the race the weather was wet and windy. The race had had much publicity and it was reported that 30,000 spectators were in the Westminster Bridge area. Because of the crush, the competitors failed to reach the start line at the official time and the race started with the bulk of the competitors three minutes late. A large number of mounted and foot police were required to clear a passage through the human mass to allow the 87 official competitors to proceed the first few miles.

Prominent companies were present on the road advertising their wares. Among the most popular of these were the OXO cars, who handed competitors refreshments which included OXO, hot or cold, OXO and champagne, OXO and soda, cheese, biscuits, bananas and apples.

The winner of this first race was E F Broad, a clerk with the broking firm of Marsden & Co, who completed the course in nine hours 30 minutes 1 second, and the winner of the sealed handicap was S E Knight in 10 hours 8 minutes 30 seconds. Of the 87 starters, 77 completed the course in the allotted time. In 1910 the Stock Exchange Athletic Club was formed and has been responsible for the organisation of the races since, although the second race was not until 1912.

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My 'Johnson' Cousins

Although we now know that my grandfather Harry ‘Johnson’ had changed his name from Harry Shorrocks, he created a family that earnestly believed that they were Johnsons. This provides some background on the Johnson family that he and his wife Constance created.

My grandmother Constance Johnson appears to have had a pretty rough married life at times. During one of the Post-War crashes around 1923, possibly associated with the collapse of the bond market linked to German reparation payments, Harry lost all his money and his job, and the family was evicted from their house in Clapham. My father and one of his brothers were placed in care until the family could be rebuilt. Although I have a very remote relationship to this experience, it has always stayed with me as a caution on the need to live carefully from a financial point of view to avoid 'have to put all one's possessions on an handcart and move to a poor part of town'.

It is to the considerable credit of the family that they weathered this storm and were reunited, with Harry presumably successfully surviving the Stock Market Crash of 1929 when thousands of Stock Exchange employees lost their jobs overnight. Constance died on the 27th March 1941 of carcinoma of the ovary. Her address at that time was given on the Death Certificate as 59A Belmont Park, Lewisham, (though she appears to have been living for the last period of her life at 10 Bailey Road, Westcott, Dorking).

We do know though that Constance was the mainstay of the family at times and that the family was able to live in the upper floor of the department store where she worked as a retail section manager in Clapham Junction. We also know that my father Jay idolized her and that when my mother purchased a cardigan for Constance’s birthday from the open market in Alfreton, where they were then living, he reacted angrily that ‘presents bought from the market are not good enough for my mother.

Another family story that has come down to us is that the introduction of radio sports reports had much the same impact on Harry as the broadcasting of international cricket on TV had on his daughter in law Meg in the 1950s. The story goes that Harry was so preoccupied with his radio that his sons named it his best friend and dressed it up with a cap and pipe.

It appears that Harry retired aged 60 and that they put in place a plan to move from London to the charming little village of Westcott near Dorking (the birthplace of Thomas Malthus the 19th century economist / demographer). After Constance died Harry continued to live at Westcott in a cottage near the 'Cricketers' pub (1 Sunnyville). He remarried for the last brief period of his life, to a lady named Florrie [Florence Green]. He died on 19th June 1945 and is buried in Westcott Parish Churchyard next to Constance.

My father Cyril Johnson was born on 24th December 1909 (Xmas Eve) in London at 61 Brayard Road, Peckham, Camberwell. He was the middle of three sons (no other children), with an elder brother Robert (Bob) – born 29th May 1908, and a younger brother Eric. Bob eventually had a sole daughter Janice and Eric had twin girls Judy and Gillian. [Judith lived in Canada for many years and her son Brett Hadley is still there. Gillian had two daughters Fiona and Kirsteen Coupar – Kirsteen undertook post-grad studies at the University of Waikato in 2002 but returned to the UK].

Eric, who was born on 8th February 1912, saw extensive service with the Royal Ulster Rifles during WW2 in Algeria, Tunisia, Malta, Sicily and Italy and rose to the rank of Captain. He was a long-distance walker and won the London-Brighton Stock Exchange Walk 3 times – 1939, 1947 and 1948. I called to see Eric and his wife ‘Phyl’ two or three times when I lived in South East England in the period 1974 – 1979. He was a charming man who was by then devoted to the simple things of life such as walking his dog and feeding the many birds that regularly attended his garden bird table. The letter that Eric sent to Bob when my father Jay was killed is given below:


Eric Johnson sent this letter to his elder brother Robert (Bob) Johnson in 1943 following the death of my father Cyril Johnson


R. L .[Robert Lubbock] Johnson Esq.
42 Gainsborough Road
New Malden
Surrey

Captain E.H. Johnson 187552
384 Bty 117 Lt. O.O. Regt,
C.M.F.
[ probably from North Africa ]

29-10-43


Dear Bob

Many thanks for your letter which I have just received. Yes, I had already heard the sad news about Cyril. I received a letter from Phyl yesterday, also a cable from an unknown person informing me of what had happened. You can just imagine what my feelings are like today. I don't think that I have ever spent such a miserable day.

The news absolutely dazed me and even now I can hardly believe it. I feel like crying every time I think of it and I am afraid that my grief will take a long time to pass away. Out loss is terrific, and like you, I didn't realize until yesterday, how strong the bonds of brotherhood are. Cyril had only written to me a few days before he met his end. As usual, his letter was full of good heartedness and was a great encouragement to me. Never did he mention what he might have to face, instead all his concern was for me and for my welfare. I shall miss those chatty letters of his.

I could not have written a more fitting epitaph to him than the one you wrote in your letter - he certainly was a fine man, gentleman, airman, teacher and scholar. I shall always remember him as such. As you say, not only us but England as well has lost a chap who it could least have spared.

I am pleased that the funeral ceremony was a fitting one to such a grand chap. My heart aches for Meg and Sue. How tragic it must have been for Meg to get Cyril home again (from South Africa) only to lose him so soon. As for Sue, well it just doesn't bear thinking about as she was so fond of and proud of her Daddy.

How has Dad taken the sad news? I hope that it hasn't cracked him up completely. I haven't heard from him recently, but perhaps he feels too bad about it to write. Please give him my best wishes.

Well, Bob, I feel too cut up to write much about myself. I am still keeping well and apparently satisfying the big bugs in my new position. I shan't be sorry when this wretched war is over, especially now, as I can just imagine the agony of other people when they lose their beloved ones. If you go to Nantwich again before the war is over, please place another tribute on the grave of our fine and beloved brother. It will be one of the first things that I shall do on reaching England.

I am glad you are going over to see Phyl in the near future - I know a visit from you does her a world of good. I trust that Doll, Jan and you are keeping well. Do look after yourself and them. I am looking forward to seeing you all again someday.

Very best wishes to Doll, Jan and you

Keep smiling.

Eric


Given the dispersal of the family (Bob eventually retired to Bournemouth and his daughter Janice settled in Devon; and Eric’s twins settled in London and Canada) links between us all grew thin. However, there have been recent reunions, as noted in the letter sent to me by Janice in 2002.

The letter follows a weekend reunion of the ‘Johnson Cousins’ (Sue, Janice, Judy and Gillian) 24-25th May 2002 at Hollies Croft, Lower Chester Road, Kelsall, Cheshire. Being unable to attend, Keith sent a spray of flowers to each cousin – and one to John Hollinshead on the occasion of his birthday!


Mrs Janice Dunckley
CauteDown Farm
Shebbear
Beaworthy
DEVON

6th June 2002


Dear Keith

What a delightful surprise the flowers were, thank you so much.

After many years it was lovely to spend a few days with Sue, John and the twins, talking about the old days, exchanging photographs and catching up with family news. The time went so quickly.

We visited Chester, and Beeston Castle – where we sat on Meg’s seat, such a tranquil place. On to Sue’s previous home (Bankhouse, Cholmondeley) – the weather was kind so we toured the nearby house, lake and gardens with Claire and her two children (Sue’s younger daughter Claire Mills and her children Tom and Hannah). In the evening we went to a local Country House Hotel to celebrate John’s birthday.

Dick (my husband) and I then went on to Whitby in Yorkshire to sample the famous fish and chips – he is becoming quite a connoisseur!! Do you have any decent fish and chips in New Zealand?

BRIEF FAMILY HISTORY – CHILDREN

Janine - 38 yrs

by my first marriage – divorced – works for an American company and lives in her own flat in Blandford Dorset – enjoys plenty of friends and socialising

Louise – 38 years

Dick’s daughter by his first marriage - works in insurance – lives in her own flat in Poole, Dorset with boyfriend Martin

Dawn – 29 years

and husband Kevin live near Lampeter, Wales. Dawn has her M Phil in management and works at Lampeter University. Kevin PhD is a researcher at Aberystwyth University – they have just acquired s lovely cottage with outstanding views over the Welsh countryside

Debbie – 28 years

and boyfriend Jason have their own bungalow in Holsworthy, Devon, about 8 miles from us. Debbie is a housekeeper / nanny and Jason works for the local council

Della – 24 years

is a cabaret singer and female vocalist with various bands – she is very busy at the moment with the Golden Jubilee celebrations and summer season just starting. She has been on local radio stations and national TV.

Dick and I have retired!!!!

Do hope your family are well. Maybe we will meet up someday.

Your Cousin

Janice