In Which We Serve (1942) Archives

W.E. Pidgeon
C/O DPR Unit
Army Post Office
Darwin

Wednesday
[4 Aug 1943]

Dear Jess,

Been quite an exhausting day. Plenty hot and plenty weak. However I pulled my gizzard up & got stuck into the work of drawing some fighter planes.

Clive (Killer) Caldwell’s Spitfire, CR-C, A58-484; Aug 1943

They’re sleek jobs and surprisingly small. You don’t get much idea of their performance when seen on duty flights around this district. Rarely are they flown flat out except in combat. After seeing them on the ground dirty dented & camouflaged you’d think they weren’t worth a plateful of cold tapioca pudding. But the boys like them.

The pilots are all hellishly young. The average age being about 22. The Squadron leader looks youngest of all like a bit of a school kid.

Believed to be Squadron Leader Ken James, commander of RAAF 457 Squadron

They have all had English experience & are a good bright lot. I get along very well with them as they are friendly & informal. The binge last night served well in breaking the ice. Almost all were as full as bulls. Incidently none of the crowd seem to like the journalists much. Being an artist makes everything so much easier. Tell Tommy there is a bit of a hoon up here – name of Pilot Officer Larry Alderson – says he knew him well in N.G. Gloria’s husband Flight Loot Newton isn’t a bad sort of bloke – Looks after me well. I still haven’t managed to buy anyone a drink. One is not allowed to – they insist on my being a guest.

Members of RAAF 457 Squadron join each other at the mess near Livingstone
L-R: FLTLT John Sefton Newton of Beaufort Vic., FLTLT E.S. Hall of Quirindi NSW, SQNLDR K.E. James of Frankston Vic., FLGOFF I.S. Mackenzie of Orange NSW, FLTLT D. Maclean of Rabaul and barman LAC Fred Storey. (Photo: Harold George Dick, 11 Aug 1943, Department of Information Official Photographer)

A big crowd of bomber pilots were also down last night. The film was fast & furious.

There’s some blasted thing I should tell you but for the life of me I can’t remember it. Guess it’ll come later.

Yes! I’ve got it! Do you recollect the air force medical officers at that party of Tilly’s² at which Bill Brindle³ & his wife were present. One of the crowd from up the road turned out to be one of them. He is now a Wing Commander. He was then a Fl. Lieutenant so he’s managed to step up very nicely.

Flash – last night two of the pilots after a sufficient steeping in the fiery juices set off on journey back to tent. One – hopelessly lost curled up on the floor of a brother officers tent. The other made the grade & work about an hour later with the tent in flames around him. Much hilarity whilst domicile was razed to the ground.

May be off to see “In which we serve”⁴ tonight – that is – if I don’t get sucked into the alcoholic vortex which is apparently about to swirl any tick of the clock.

I’m still not 100%.

It doesn’t look as if I’ll be down by the 24^th.⁵ You will probably forgive me but it would be best for me not to dash down without properly doing the place over. I’d love to be there. However have a good dinner. Get that or the other casserole or what ever you like – go to £20. With love from your devoted, Willie.

Thursday [5 Aug 1943]

Bad show I didn’t mail the above pages this morning. I went up to the strip with a crowd of pilots at 6.30am and arrived by at 4pm. Consequently missed the bus, I mean the mail.

This blarsted country is full of things wot bite. Between the heat & the wogs I’m as knobbly as a mills bomb.

All day the fighter lads lounge about inside their dispersal hut (near the ‘drome) in attitudes crooked but horizontal.

There they remain, with but slight variation waiting for the call to arms. One morning early at least 4 of them were asleep when an alert came over. Like trains through a station they were off & in the air. Fortunately the aircraft responsible for the alarm was identified as friendly.

The weather seems to be getting hotter. Myself more enervated. Sweat rolls off me – thirsty ants swim up my cascading body & quaff the salty juices. Beaut-O!

There’s been quite a lot of feeling that it’s near time the yellow men come over. They sunk a ship a few days ago & have been fairly active. A couple of months have passed since they did anything and the fighter lads are anxious to have a crack at them to relieve the boredom.

Hope Harold Coy has been behaving.⁶ Also the damned old Ponty.⁷ You poor darling I dare say Jane⁸ has been giving you the real works. Is Tommy⁹ up north indefinitely?

Hope Dossie’s little girl doesn’t have 6 tits – it’ll be awful hard to find a beau with 6 hands.

Some bear bandit or other has got down on my bottle whilst Iwas away. That’s the sort of thing that leads to lynching in this h’yar country. You can as King from me – Where is the Ethics Committee of the A.J.A?¹⁰ What are they doing about it all? When are they going to send a missionary up here?

That there smudge is sweat.

Which reminds me you mentioned Turkish Baths. Haven’t you had any? Why don’t you go away somewhere for a couple of weeks? It’s getting right hot, mu chickadee. I’m afraid this climate would suit you down to the ground. I can’t see how one could stay very flat what with all this here perspiring going on.

Don’t get too morbid, honey. It won’t be long before I’m home. How’s the houses for sale? Why don’t you go around and have a look at a few just to get an idea of value, etc.¹¹ I can’t think of anything for the flairs.

When its winter
Way down yonder
It’s a pint’er
Beer I ponder
And a bit er bread
An’ butter an’ a sponge

Which reminds me how’s frige behaving?

Lots of love from yours meltingly,

Willie.

[On top of 1^st page is a note written by another person]

Hello Jess you beautiful thing I love you despite all absences(?).

Yours

(?) x [indecipherable]

That goes for me too

Willie

Believed to be members of RAAF 457 Squadron, Livingstone Airfield

Dispersal room at a fighter squadron, Livingstone Airfield

Snooze in the sun for a weary pilot, The Australian Women’s Weekly, 20 Nov 1943, p9

Notes:

1
Wep must have obtained a print of this photo with F/L Newton in it taken by official photographer Harold Dick a week after Wep’s visit. It is also reproduced in Darwin Spitfires; the real battle for Australia by Anthony Cooper 2022, pp132-133
2
Australian Women’s Weekly journalist Adele ‘Tilly’ Shelton-Smith was the first woman to travel from Australia in 1941 to report from an overseas military theatre in Malaya.
3
William Brindle was a Daily Telegraph photographer
4
In Which We Serve (1942) starring Noel Coward starring
5
Wep and Jess 10th wedding anniversary
6
Harold and Bassie Coy ran the Hotel Hunters Hill, a favoured drinking spot of Wep and Jess
7
Wep’s 1935 Pontiac 8
8
Mary Jane Graham (nee Wray), Jess’s mother
9
Tommy O’Dea was the former General Manager of Guinea Air in Papua New Guinea. He joined the air force but following a major crash in New Guinea he transfered to the Royal Australian Navy as a Coast Watcher
10
Australian Journalists’ Association
11
Wep and Jess moved to 85 Northwood Road, Northwood in mid 1940. They were initially renting the property and ultimately purchased it in August 1944 from Harry Charles Allan, Assistant Secretary of the Department of the Navy

C/O DPR Unit
Army Post Office
Darwin

Tuesday night
(I haven’t the foggiest idea of the date)
[27 Jul 1943]

Darling,

Didn’t have time to write you yesterday. Arrived down south¹ fairly late, about 3.30pm tired & dirty. Showered & rested. Fed – then off to pictures (what again!) where “Mrs Miniver”² was showing. It exhibited all the usual American glamorisation of sentiment & emotion. Just a show. By making this trip I have missed “In which we Serve”³ so if you haven’t seen it by this hold your horses until I return.

Probably I find myself as lonely as you do, although I can manage to submerge myself to a great extent in work. The nights all seem somehow short and useless. There is practically no ground of common contact with the people I meet. This is no doubt to be expected – Army people talk shop as much as others do.

You’d love to be here with me in the tent I am at present occupying. – A bloody bobby dazzler. Usually its function is to accommodate high officials & big wigs. Because the earth round about gets mighty soggy during the wet season the floor is built some 2 ft above the ground. To have a real wooden floor (even though made of packing cases) is dinkum Point Piper up here. Edging the floor & meeting the tent sides is a ducky wooden fence. Alongside the entrance steps one may tread lightly down to the sun deck furnished with deck chair. Tent flaps are open wide & sensuously warm breezes wiggle over the old bod. There’s room for twin beds how’s about? Just the cool summer night touch. All just too too.

I had my best sleep since being up here. The bed is good and I have been honoured with 2 SHEETS. Christ, this is a grim & arduous front line. Pay up for a couple of Hail Marys and pater nosters for me, my sweet. I’m battling through on fresh eggs, Gorgonzola, Scotch Whiskey and Van der Hum (imported). Keeping a stiff upper lip, that’s me. The only ointment on the fly is the dust, that’s lovely, just like wading through a foot of talcum powder.

Have walked about 6 miles today. In the morning down to a transit camp alongside a river⁴ in which one of the troops caught, while I was there, a swordfish of all things – about 2’6” long. Spent the afternoon at a field hospital⁵ – i.e. one in which the patients are under canvas.

All very picturesque, the large and calming masses of white & salmon tinted tents slashed and emphasised by the waving greens of paw paws & bananas. A good spot to paint – but time is too limited. From the newspaper point of view I should restrict myself more to close-ups of patients & to merely suggest the pleasantries of the scene. Will spend about two days over it.

Had to go down a slit trench tonight.⁶ I took it arse up – nose first. This is not the accepted technique, but I had no time for indulging the niceties of descent. I fell in. next time I walk around after dark the torch goes with me. Gave myself a fearful thump – winded me for a few minutes – However am all right except for some cutie saucer shaped bruises on the hip.

About time I got to bed – I’m losing my grip – mosquito dive bombing is most demoralising.

Lots of love to you my darling.

Willie

Hope mum got my telegram on the right day.⁷ You have to send them early here – they say it takes about 2 days. Glad to hear dad is still up & doing.

More affection to you from me.

Nightie.

Notes:

1
Adelaide River Camp
2
Mrs Minniver (1942) starring Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon- see also Wikipedia
3
In Which We Serve (1942) starring Noel Coward. See also Wikipedia
4
Adelaide River
5
119th Australian General Hospital
6
There is no official record of any Japanese air raids that night. Was probably a practice drill or Wep simply fell into the trench by accident.
7
Wep sent a Telegram to Jess’s mother, Mary Jane Graham (nee Wray 1868-1953) for her birthday the previous day, July 26.

Tag: In Which We Serve (1942)

War Letters – NW Australia: 5 Aug 1943, Livingstone Airfield; With the boys of a Spitfire squadron

Notes:

War Letters – NW Australia: 27 Jul 1943, Adelaide River; Visited a transit camp and a field hospital

Notes: