[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE 537 8 26 AP 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 14
APO 8380
Dear Mother:
I am now on the high seas and at last am getting the sunshine I have wanted for so long. If I ever complain of the heat the crew will probably strike me down because I have never hidden my thoughts about cold climates and cold Nissen huts. At first a rain coat was not enough to keep me warm on deck but it was noticably [sic] warmer every day. Yesterday the order came through to don tropical kit. What a sight! What amazing interpretations the services put on their definition of tropical kit. For us it means khaki shorts and shirts and stockings and ordinary shoes and caps, none of the RAF yet daring to appear in their new Australian slouch hats. But all the shorts seem to vary in shade, length and cut. I have had mine shortened a lot as they were of a typically English length. The first day my knees and arms got quite sun burnt for the sun approaches the near vertical and so today I spent much time in my cabin reading a book because I don’t yet like being on deck in the shade if there is any wind at all.
As before I have felt no pangs of seasickness. My navigator and one of the gunners were under the weather at first but have entirely recovered and indeed it would be hard not to under present conditions.
Entertainment is much more organized than on my other voyage. Housey housey with prizes up to £10 some nights, cinema shows, boxing and other games on the quarter deck, music over the PA system, a concert coming up etc. No gambling this time but a fair amount of chess, bridge, deck tennis, deck quoits and the like. My bridge hands have been absolutely appalling for far—so bad in fact that I quit for two days. I am starting again in an hour so wish me luck.
I had another innoculation [sic] yesterday. I thought I was finished ages ago but these doctors, if they cannot dream up something new, give you one you’ve had before. For our own good I suppose really.
Well my bridge hands were nearly as bad as before but John and I won due to one terrific hand that I had, 150 honours in suit, 100 in another, a blank and a singleton. We bid and made the small slam that was doubled.
It was wonderful on deck last night. Even after dark it was warm and windless. It is not yet breakfast time yet already it looks like being a real scorcher. About the only fly in the ointment is that it won’t be very long before the rainy season starts where we are going.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: ??? 22 AP 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 7
61 204 Sqdn RAF
West Africa Forces
April 21. 1945.
Dear Mother:
It was quite a sight to come into the harbour and see so many new and strange things. Shortly after we dropped anchor the first natives came out in their canoes. These boats are very cleverly made, about 18’ long, hollowed out of a single log I’m told but thin walled and very light and only just wide enough for their single occupant. Nevertheless they can dive out of them and get in again with great dexterity. They seen to ship a lot of water so are continually scooping it out with a special wooden shovel or kicking the water out with a foot. Sometimes they capsize and then they simply shove the canoe violently in a fore and aft direction and in no time miraculously the boat is dry again. The first man to arrive was followed by a shark. It didn’t seem to bother him for he turned and chased it, calling for reinforcements—however the shark soon disappeared. Soon there were lots of these canoes around and everybody was throwing coins for them to dive for. The natives have been spoilt rather and won’t dive for coppers some of them unless you have wrapped it in silver paper. Some of them get quite a lot of money, you could see the coins in the bottom of the boat. After a while bigger native boats started to arrive, laden with bananas, cotton goods, slippers, coconuts and other fruit. They would throw up a weighted stone [sic] with a basket on the end but they didn’t seem to do much business and got nothing like the profits of the coin divers. These latter, the divers, seemed to be a very happy go lucky crowd and were continually bursting into song, either solo or in chorus, every song you’ve ever heard—Lord knows where they learnt them. One character had a top hat and wing collar and tie, others acquired nave caps before the morning was out, but most had nothing but shorts or a bathing dress. At one time I counted as many as 28 boats on our side of the ship so there was quite a lot of competition but no very heated arguments even when two or three went after the same coin.
Finally we came ashore in a tender and were loaded into trucks for the drive to a transit camp. This was quite a distance but could have been much longer as far as I am concerned for it was fascinating—unbelievably so. I don’t know how to describe it. The drive was at quite a pace so we missed a lot and it was also alarming to those not familiar with roads in cordilleran B. C. Everywhere there were strange trees and shrubs, I couldn’t recognize anything but the rather short palm trees here but banana trees were pointed out to me. There were native huts everywhere, usually made of small stones packed together with red clay and topped with a high conical thatch. Every house seemed to have an amazing number of occupants and they were doing just what you would expect, that is grinding millet, knocking fruit out of the trees or just nothing. Most of the houses have an open front room with only a 2 foot wall so you could see inside where the particularly lazy natives were lounging in hammocks. Others we passed were making new houses, or picking away at some rocky plot of land, or working on the roads which appear to have been recently improved and are paved though the grades are perilous, or doing laundry (dhobi) in the streams or bathing etc.
All the natives are called Wogs. A lot work for the air force though not all are in service dress. Those that are and especially the traffic policeman feel very proud I think and must consider themselves much above the others. They are very dark skinned and somehow when you are standing close to a bunch of them they don’t look human to me they are so very black.
I don’t find it oppressively hot at all. The mean temp is almost 87 and it doesn’t cool much at nights so one sleeps on the top of the bed.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE ? 22 AP 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 7
62 204 Sqdn RAF
West Africa Forces
21.4.45
Dear Mother:
When we got to camp we went first to the mess. This was an attractive building with large high ceilinged rooms with big electric fans hanging from the roof and clever murals painted on the walls. There were a lot of shrubs in flower just outside and also some trees in one of which was hundreds of nests and the small brightly coloured birds made a terrific lot of noise all the time. Both the mess and the sleeping quarters have spacious verandahs and lots of mosquito screening. We took anti-malaria pills in the boat and are now taking quinine in addition to these and also as we sleep under mosquito nets one would be unlucky indeed to get malaria. Add to these the fact that there are may people here who have been out here several months who have never even seen a mosquito. Yet in the evening everyone wears long slacks, sleeves rolled down and special boots like half wellingtons.
Each room in the billet has a wog boy assigned to look after us. They are paid by us not the air force and do the dhobi daily, also bring tea in the mornings etc. They don’t speak English very well so it is not to [sic] easy to make oneself understood.
Meals seem pretty good—a lot of it like sauces are Canadian. It is nice to be waited on hand and foot by so many servants dressed in their white clothes and some brilliant coloured sash around the middle.
Beer is rationed to 7 bottles per month and to the disgust of the English is American—Pabst Blue Ribbon.
The first evening there happened to be a touring RAF dance band playing in the mess so we stayed to listen. It was very good, the music being extremely jazzy or hep (?) and what with the beer and the hot climate the scene soon became fantastic. I think some of these chaps have been out here too long—they seem to be going native.
The next day, yesterday, we moved over to the Squadron camp. Billets and mess are on the same pattern so I won’t say anything about that. Beer is again rationed but this time is Canadian—Dows Montreal Pale Ale. I haven’t had any yet but must soon. However I had some Canadian rye last night and there is no restriction on this. There is a frigidaire behind the bar so there is ice for the drinks too.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE ? 22 AP 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 7
63 or 1 204 Sqdn RAF
West Africa Forces
21.4.45
Dear Mother:
Yesterday I watched a football game between RAF and the Navy—won easily by us. It seems quite a popular game out here. However I have seen several people wandering passed [sic] while I write with tennis racquets so as soon as I find the court I’ll be out there.
Last night I went to a show English Without Tears. It was very good but the sound isn’t very clear in the theatre and nor is the screen. However we get pretty recent shows here so I’ll probably go a lot.
This morning I went down to flights to meet my CO. and flight commander etc. Every body [sic] seemed very nice and friendly so we feel we should enjoy our stay here. The adj gave me two letters one from you dated March 28th and one from Eric Caldicott. Eric transferred from Army to AF got his navigator wings and discharge and is now back in Trail. In your letter you seemed in a bit of a quandary about what I was doing. I hope you have got all the letters about my leave and are thus put wise.
There is one Canadian crew on the sqdn so I’m not quite alone. I saw not one on the boat and got a nasty impression that I was going in the wrong direction.
There has been only one small shower so far, the forerunner of the wet season but last night there was quite a lightning display though no thunder. These tropical storms are rather alarming when night flying and more than one chap has lobbed down in the ocean when he can’t get in to base and then get a tow by HSL [?].
No hot water here for washing but it is all luke warm anyway so it doesn’t really matter.
On the crews [sic] off day we can commandeer a transport so they usually go to town for lunch and then on to a good bathing beach in the locality. Hope to try this soon.
Well I have written myself to exhaustion.
With love from
Tony
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE 537 A 24 AP 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 7
#2 April 22. 1945
Dear Mother:
Today a few of us went out to the beach—the most wonderful spot you have ever dreamt of or seen in any technicolour south sea film. There was a long stretch of clear sand, not too wide a strip and a single small rocky promontory from which you could dive and this is the spot we chose. Just about here too was the estuary of a small stream which ran parallel to the coast for a short distance only separated from the ocean by a sand bar. When the tide comes in and it was today the water runs up stream so you can float gently up the river with your heels pleasantly sliding over the sandy bottom in the shallower places. It is advisable to roll over occasionally to see where you are going in case you bump into a rocky corner. There was not much surf today but beyond the little sandbar the waves were big enough to be very enjoyable. You don’t swim out very far because there are sharks and barracudas waiting in the deep waters. The water is unbelievably warm—it would be nice to lie around in it all day. Of course the rocks were so hot you could only stand still for a short moment. So far this weather has been perfect—just what I have been waiting for for years I think. All of us thoroughly enjoyed the day and John said it would be interesting to see if in some months our letters home would be as full of praise for this place as they probably are now.
On the way home we passed through town and being Sunday some of the natives were decked out in all their splendour making a very colorful scene. Some of the men had modern good looking tropical suits, others had even black coats and white starched collars. I don’t know what the women were wearing since every dress seems different—some all white, others multicoloured, one or two of the younger set wearing shorts skirts and silk stocking and this get up certainly looked out of place around here.
All the natives as soon as they start to walk I think must also start to carry things on their heads so their carriage is naturally very good. They carry anything from 80 lb sacks of grain, or a large bundle of sticks, or baskets to such small items as one box of matches. We must have passed hundreds of natives on the road today and nearly all were toting something on their beans.
Great concern in our room last night when I found a hole in my mosquito bar. Sabotage? I pointed this out to our boy this morning but it has been unrepaired. His name by the way is Amadubangora.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE 537 ? ?? A? ??]
R.A.F. CENSOR 7
#3 204 Sqdn
APO 606
c/o The Postmaster
Miami, Florida
27/4/45
Dear Mother:
At first glance you may think I have been travelling again but such is not the case. Will you try this address on some letters as they come over on Pan-American and it may be quicker. I will send some through the same channel as soon as I get some American stamps.
I went into town today for lunch. There is a very good officers section in the NAAFI there. I bought some material and took it to a native tailor for two pairs of shorts and two slacks. He surprised me by saying it would be ready tomorrow. We wandered around the shops a bit but the native made goods are not of a very high standard. There were sots of crocodile handbags which looked as if they might be quite good after some polishing. There is also lots of materials like chiffon or crepe de chine if you want any but no real silk. I hope to visit some of the other bases on the coast sometime for you can get some excellent stuff further south such as equisite [sic] ivory or ebony carvings and beautiful leatherwork all at a ridiculous price. North of here is a place to get good silver work and it also is cheap. Here the prices are high probably because the goods come from these other places. Some of the natives right in town aren’t very friendly and start to follow you. After awhile they get around in front of you or between two. Their idea I think is pick-pocketing but they didn’t actually touch or jostle us today.
When we came out of town we heard extra loud chattering and yelling and sudden [sic] passed some joujou men running down the street. One of them, the head man I guess, was dressed from head to foot in black raffia with a mask on his face and horns on his head.
I took some pictures yesterday. Two of us against a banana tree and one of our boy outside our ‘chalet’.
I had to bring an aircraft into the slip yesterday. We were towed so it took some time and it was hot. The thermometer said 95 but one seems to feel it much more on the water. It is not nearly so hot today as it is cloudy—our first cloudy day. Last night it rained hard for a short while—the first of the rainy season.
A letter from you yesterday dated April 11. That is pretty good going as it went thru London. Our telegram must have reached you the day after it was sent.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE ??? ? 6 MY 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 342
No. ? 4/4/45 [sic – should be 4/5/45]
Dear Mother:
For some days now I have been staying at another base. This is the place where you can get the silver work I mentioned.
The climate here is rather different—as hot or perhaps hotter but far less humid and thus more invigorating. It cools off at night more and I usually find I wake about six and have to crawl into bed to keep warm instead of sleeping on top. There are lots of trees just here but from the air you can see it is not heavily wooded and there is none of the dense undergrowth we have. Actually we are on the fringe of the desert regions and there is a lot of sand—I’ve seen no soil or rocks here. The town is somewhat smaller but possibly a little more civilized than my base station. Those streets which are not hard surfaced are just sand, usually with a concrete ditch down the middle to carry off the rains that come about July.
The natives speak a little plainer English here and are perhaps a bit higher a type. They dress with rather more modesty than some of ours anyway. Also there is quite a smattering of natives with typically Arabian characteristics—they are tall and proud looking. Even their women folk are often six feet tall I should say.
In the centre of the town there is a large square where grass has been enticed to grow and the forces play football here in the evenings and they with the help (?) of the native police band playing at the same time draw quite an audience.
The first afternoon we went to a silver-smith and after some haggling bought bracelets at 17/6 per. This was just a small shop and not the one we were looking for. The next day we found this other place called “Silver Jacks”. Silver jack [sic] took us three into his showroom where we planted ourselves into comfortable arm chairs around a show case and smoked cigarettes while the silver work was produced. All the work is a filigree design made of lots of tiny scrolls soldered together. It is very beautiful but not flawless which gives them added charm because you can see they are not factory made. I bought a butterfly brooch here. There were a few gold bracelets also, part of the design being done with pure gold but these were expensive £8-10. They were lovely though.
Afterwards we went into the room where the stuff was made. There were about a dozen ‘boys’ here squatting on their haunches doing the work on a piece of slate on the ground. It was amazing to see the beautiful clean silver work in this dim and very dirty hovel. The only tools seemed to be a pair of pliers, a hammer, a melting pot over a tiny forge, a tube held in the mouth through which air is blown against a flame for a blowtorch and a bowl of sand and water for polishing. Most of the ‘boys’ had their own set of tools but the man with the hammer specialized in beating out the silver and one man did the work on the forge.
So much for the silver smiths.
With love from
Tony.
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[Postmark: FIELD POST OFFICE 109 A 6 MY 45]
R.A.F. CENSOR 342
No. ?? 4/4/45 [sic – should be 4/5/45]
Dear Mother:
Another place that I have been to a lot around here is the market. It is quite extensive covering a whole block partly in the open air partly under cover. All manner of goods are made or sold here, and in some corners the smell nearly knocks you off your feet. This is probably the meat and fish section but I didn’t approach closely for verification. There was a very wide selection of leather sandals and I got a pair for 7/6. These seemed to be price controlled because for this particular type you could not beat any of the sellers down to a lower price although they all started higher. It didn’t seem to matter in what part of the market you did your bartering. There were also hundreds of handbags—some good ones in leopard skin and other nice looking crocodile jobs. These latter were made from baby crocs and had the head which is about six inches long on the flap. I may buy one tomorrow. This morning I was bartering for a leather hold all suitable for the sort of trip I am on now. They should cost a quid but this was quite a good one and he wanted three pound ten. This afternoon the same man had just got in some new suitcases, really good, solid leather box like construction for which the price was again £3-10. Consequently I have got the price of the hold all down to £2-5, but am still not going to buy.
Someone has made a fortune in sewing machines out here. There must be 50 humming away in the market alone and every little tailor shop has a few.
As there is no stone or clay around the native houses have a wooden framework but the rest of them is split cane. It looks like bamboo. They all have fences around of cane and even the windows in our billets are the same. Not much to look thru but a bit of air penetrates.
The station has a good thing in its cinema. It is an open air place and comparatively cool. Our own has open sides but nevertheless becomes almost unbearably hot.
The mess is built right on the beach. It looks a good bathing beach but no one gord in here. Still the pounding surf has a cool refreshing sound in the mess.
Food is reputed to be not as good here but I have had eggs for breakfast the last two days. The only ones I have had at base have been those I have bought from my ‘boy’ and 50% of these are bad.
My skin is beginning to take on the yellow tinge which the malaria pills cause. I hope this colour is not to [sic] persistent upon returning to civilization.
I bought some Campbell tennis balls yesterday. Synthetic rubber but they look good.
Can you buy materials nowadays like chiffon and crepe de chine? There is lots of it here. Made in England where you can’t buy it.
Hope my mail has caught up to me by the time I return to my station.
With love from
Tony