“Writing Home, WWII” letters series

I have been working up to writing this long series of transcribed letters for some time. It is to be an emotional journey, revisiting these stories once again. I hope you will enjoy them, and think of your family as you read.

Joseph Henry Thompson (known as ‘Mac’ in RAF circles) was born in June 1925. He was my Uncle, though I never knew him. The eldest of 4 children, and brother of my father (dad being the youngest).

He was born in Birmingham, England’s second largest city, in a relatively poor neighbourhood. His father had died in 1941, leaving his Mother a widow and WWII raging.

Joe ‘joined up’, along with thousands of other young men, in 1943 at the tender age of 18. The RAF was his chosen destination, and he said goodbye to his family and left for training in December, which is where these letters begin.

After 65 years secreted away in a plastic bag, the letters were re-discovered by my family last year. They had been in my Aunt’s possession (inherited after the death of my grandmother) but unseen by myself or my Dad.

They represent the most precious cargo, for these letters were written between 1943 and 1947. They were tokens of love between my grandmother (at home, husbandless, with 4 kids to support), and her eldest, handsome, brave boy Joseph who joined the RAF and went to fight the Nazis.

The letters are full of love, adventure, fear, deprivation, cold and disaster. Joe’s crew was shot down on their virgin mission in a Lancaster Bomber. He met a girl and talked of marriage. His mother wasn’t sure that this was a good idea.

Most of the letters from Joe to his mom ends with the words “God Bless and Keep Smiling – I do! xxxxx”

These little bite-sized memoires are treasures enough in themselves, but for one fact. Joe survived the war and was posted to Singapore, but in 1947 the letters cease abruptly. Joe passed away from cancer in a military hospital at the age of just 22 years. Far from home, his mother restricted by the ability to travel due to the cost and the presence of 3 small children, he continued to write, wobbly-handed shorter notes, upbeat and witty.

His final letters tell her that he’s fine and she must ‘keep smiling’.

As a child, I failed to recognise the significance of the photograph which steadfastly took pride of place on the mantelpiece, year after year. As a grown woman and mother, I become emotional every time I see these letters, and ashamed of my former ignorance of the story of this man, my uncle, our family hero.

So I hope to do justice to Joe, so that he may be remembered always, and inspire others to recognise the value of the keepsakes which they own. Our objects hold wondrous family stories, and the people we love hold even more. It is a tragedy that we find such a lack of interest in ourselves that we fail to pass these stories on.

Time will make all things which hold love precious, so I urge you to preserve your memories whilst they are still fresh. A birthday card written today to your child will be clutched to their chest in 20 years time when it is rediscovered.

A home is just a home, and a letter is just a letter, but your memories will last a lifetime.

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All Posts in this series:-

Letter 1, 29 December 1943 – arrival at RAF Recruitment Base for basic training

Letter 2, 31 December 1943 – getting to grips with 5 ‘Joes’

Letter 3, 5 January 1944 – confined to Barracks!

Letter 4, 8 Jan 1944 – a boxing champ and £1 in wages

Letter 5, 10 Jan 1944 – a theft and wrongful punishment

Letter 6 – 13 Jan 1944 – preparing to leave basic training camp

Letter 7 – 13 Jan 1944 – high jinx and punishing parades

Letter 8 – 14 Jan 1944 – being posted to Bridlington!!

Letter 9 – 18 Jan 1944 – Arrival at Bridlington (the dump!)