Gold Frames...

March 12th, 1915...

My Dear Beth,

I know that you were born a month ago, and named for your mother, my dearest Bess. She tells me that she kissed my gold-framed photograph each night, now on your behalf as well as her own, until you are old enough to do it yourself. I pray that the Great War will be over before then, or that I will have had leave enough to come home so you both can kiss me in person, before that time.

Your Uncle Jim is in the bunk above mine, as I write this, and would send his love if he were awake to do so. Your oldest cousin, Alfie, is currently out on patrol, fixing wires under the cover of night, but if he returns before I finish my letter, I shall make sure he sends his love too.

It has not been so bad, these past few weeks, but it is becoming clear that we are in for the long haul, here in the trenches, and not the quick and decisive victory that the papers promised.

Nevertheless, I hope to see you at the end of it. In the meantime, be sure to mind your mother, and grow up healthy and clever, just like her.

All my love

Your father

Thomas.

*

My Dearest Bess

There are days that I hardly know what to write, when home and you are so far away, like a distant memory.

In good weather, the trenches are not so bad, but when the rains come, everything turns to mud, and despite our best efforts, it gets into everything.

Thank you for the photograph of little Beth, I keep it next to yours, my guiding light in these dark times.

I will write again soon, but in the meantime, have a kiss from me, and another for Beth, and keep your chin up, dearest.

All my love

Thomas

*

January 2nd, 1941

My Dear Bruce,

Another year begins in your absence, and I miss you every day.

The children ask when you are coming home, and I have no answer for them. I used to be one of only a few women at the factory, but now the men are few and far between, mostly those medically unfit for Service in the armed forces. They are apparently building outposts on Mission Island, so that Darwin will have warning if any bombers come from Asia.

The other Capitol Cities are too far south for bombers to get that far without warning, but the military forts in the harbour islands are being upgraded to scan for warships and submarines, in case of water attacks. For now, we are all safe, but the longer this war drags on, the more the worry grows.

There is hardly a street that does not have a gold star in at least one window, or a black ribbon on a door, and scarcely any house that does not have at least one gold-framed photograph of a loved one at the Front. There are rumours of some smaller country towns who have lost an entire generation of young men, and others where it will soon be more fact than rumour.

But I should not trouble you with problems at home, when you have your own concerns to worry over. There are new cookbooks coming out with instructions on what can be substituted for the same flavour profile as rationed items like sugar and chocolate, and you know how I have always loved trying new recipes. By the time you return, I shall have many new dishes for you to sample.

Lily and Irene are doing well in school, we recieved their yearly reports today, quite understandably delayed for the same reason that the classrooms are quite crowded now, due to a scarcity of teachers. Barry claims to be looking forward to starting in the new term, but we shall see how long that lasts.

I have enclosed letters from the children, as well, who want me to assure you that they were very careful in their efforts,

All my love,

Elizabeth

Dear Daddy,

Mummy says to tell you not to worry about us, as Australia is too logisitically difficult to hold to fear invasion. She didn't say what logistically difficult meant, can you explain?

Love Irene.

Dear Dad,

Writing is hard, but my teacher says I am improving rapidly, and that my knowledge of words outpaces my ability to write them.

Barry knows his letters because Mum taught him, buthe still preferrs to communicate in pictures, so he is using the last of the paper to draw one for you.

Love you,

Lily.

Hi Daddy

I drew you a picture

Barry.

*

21st June, 1973

Dear Barry,

The Passing-Out Parade was only a few weeks ago, yet it feels like forever.

I hope you are well, over in south-east Asia, and that you will tell us if there is anything we can send you from home. Anything non-perishable, anyway, I doubt perishables would reach you before they went bad.

Irene has another month to go on her nursing course before she can apply for an overseas posting. I wish she would stay here, far away from the action, but she is determined, and I know all too well where she got that stubborn streak, to believe that I will be able to talk her out of it.

It is sweltering summer hear, and I can only imagine how much worse it must be for you there. Your father is safe from conscription this time, which is a great comfort, but he has been asked to assist in training, due to his experience in the Pacific Theatre in World War II. We all prayed that would be the last war, yet here we are again, embroiled in another one.

I pray that you stay safe, my son, and come home to us when it is over.

Hugs and kisses, even if you claim to be too old for them.

Love Mum

*

November 29, 2001

Dear Lizzie,

This is the fourth time I have waved a loved one off to war.

I worry for you, as any grandmother ought to, because I know all too well the cost that freedom demands. I am also so very proud of you, the first of my daughters and granddaughters to serve in the armed forces, instead of as a nurse or auxiliary forces that were all we were allowed to be if we were not waiting at home as dutiful mothers, daughters or wives.

As with your mother, uncle, father and grandfather before you, I pray you will honour their legacy and come home to us at the end of it.

All of my love

Nana Elizabeth