Cliff wouldn’t get home to marry Dorothy for another 18 months, but, for now at least, I’m going to end this story with 2NZEF about to embark for Italy in October 1943.
For one thing I’d like to stand back a bit and see how I feel about what I’ve done so far.
Dad wrote compellingly about the Great Depression and the War, but he stopped after the Battle of Alamein in late 1942, and from then on I’ve had to construct a narrative from his letters to Mum, his diary and various anecdotes he wrote down after the war. Reading those letters brought me much closer to him as a young man, but it also gave me a deep fellow feeling for the men of 2NZEF — if that’s even possible for somebody whose life experience has been so completely different. What have I got to compare? Boarding School and School Cadets! Parading in the summer sunshine, with Ken Leigh and Paul Holmes in their old air force and army uniforms. A week in camp in Papakura, of which all I can remember is the big echoey barracks, queuing for meals, firing a Bren gun and deciding I didn’t like the boys from Dargaville.1
And Dad’s cobbers would have thought boarding school was pretty good — the food was OK, there were girls in class, and we went home for holidays. Whereas I look at the photos of the men jammed together in a freight train to Palestine, or even enjoying a feed on their picnic at the Delta Barrage. Bereft of the female company they missed so much, and with their lives on hold for up to five years, if they made it back at all.
Also, time flies. Heather wouldn’t let me use A Race Against Time as the strap line for this project, but it is, and I have other things in mind for it. And to express it a little flippantly, I’m starting to feel as sick of the war as Dad was by the time he saw Maadi Camp for the last time. We both need to move on.
There’s another reason why I feel comfortable leaving Italy for now. Dad and I went to the 50th anniversary commemorations of the Battle of Cassino in 1994, and the diary I wrote at the time does give a flavour of his Italian experience from a completely different perspective — Italians and the old soldiers from both sides together.
Dad was in better shape than many at the reunion, and he did live another 10 years, but I, his self-confident middle-aged son, was in charge. It’s well worth reading, I think, provided you promise to bear in mind something I’m very careful to say up front, that the only people who come out of it looking bad are me and an impatient Italian waiter.
1994 — Battle of Cassino anniversary.
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In fact Cliff did see Maadi again.
I’ll read all the letters — honestly! — but, like someone skipping ahead to the dénouement of a detective novel, I’ve cheated and read the last few. Dad’s last was dated the 1st of March 1945 and written in Maadi on the way home. Mum’s one and only surviving letter is dated 20 February, and she expects him eight weeks later. It was a delight to read, and I’ll reproduce it in full below. It’s good to see her self-confident and a bit saucy, and giving as good as she gets on the “Dear” and “Sweetheart” front.
In fact Dorothy’s timing was spot on. Cliff sent a telegram when he arrived in New Zealand on April 23rd and they married on May 16th. Some stories have happy endings.
If you have feedback, corrections, photos, or can help fill in the gaps, please email or let me know in the comments. ~ Ian
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Darlingest one
Taipuha
Feb 20th
My dearest
Hullo sweetheart, it’s me again, eh? How are things going tonight dear? Just 100% all round I hope. Everything here is pretty good & we’re all pretty well. I am really very well except that at the moment I have a patch under my left eye that has come up in a lot of small water blisters just if it’s been burnt. It’s fairly sore & a bit swollen, but not at all serious. It arrived yesterday afternoon & by evening was quite noticeable. Today it’s even worse so I’m hoping tomorrow will see a big improvement in it. What caused it though I have no idea, so that makes it all the more annoying.
Oh, dearest, just think of it — approximately 8 more weeks & you will be here. If you are longer coming I can survive but it will be hard. However I’m not thinking of that. I wonder how much longer it will be worthwhile writing. Gosh darling I am getting excited over it. By the time the great day arrives I will be almost hysterical with excitement. How I am longing for your company & to really feel that I am belonging to someone again.
Darlingest one, I do so hope you will like any changes you will find in me. There are changes, some for the better, others perhaps not. I am not nearly so self-conscious as I was & I can manage a bit of small talk with strangers, so those are two bits for the better. I can sew moderately well, am keen on both gardens, resign myself to cutting lawns, hedges etc, can still cook a bit, although there is a lot of practice required there; am quite an efficient butcher & pump benzene like a professional. Still love dancing, teasing people, being sarcastic with those who know how to take it, & generally getting some fun out of life. You can sort out the good & the bad for yourself, & that is only a start. I am also still the possessor of a fiery temper that has to overflow at intervals, & sometimes I need smacking for a nasty disposition. (That will be your job in a short time now.) You will probably have to contend with my teasing too as after nearly 24 years of practice I couldn’t stop in a few weeks. I don’t think you’ll find it hard to take though.
As for the dancing, well darling you’ll just have to get into practice again so that we can both enjoy it. I used to love dancing with you & it will be added bliss after all this time.
Well, sweetheart I have a written terrible a lot of rubbish haven’t I, & I don’t know how or why you put up with it. I haven’t anything much to say though & I did so want to talk to you. That is my only excuse, sweetheart.
Oh, Cliff dear, I do love you & I need you so badly, just to be with you again & love you & be loved will be heaven & I don’t think I will ever be happier. When we are married we will be very happy but the first reunion will be so glorious. Mr & Mrs Cliff Baugh, won’t that be wonderful. Who are you going to have for best man & groomsman, darling? I expect you would like some of your cobbers who have been with you over there. Well, it’s your choice for them so I leave that entirely to you. Plenty of time to discuss it later of course, but it’s handy to think of it ahead of time. I have almost decided on pink for the bridesmaids but may still change it to one blue & one pink. I’m starting on my own frock too, & will see if I can find anything I like next week in Whangārei.2
I suppose I must stop now honey, so Cheerio & God Bless. I love you very very much dearest, never doubt it. Soon now I’ll be able to show you. Tons & tons of love, sweetheart. Yours forever, Dorothy xxx
Footnotes
- Oh, and learning in front of our entire platoon that marching was best done swinging the left arm and right leg together, not both on the same side. Well, have you ever thought about it?
↩︎ - I wrote a love letter to wedding albums some time ago. They were (and are) a large part of Queensberry’s business, and I featured Dorothy and Cliff’s wedding.
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