This camp is full of sisters, mostly beautiful American women, and do they get down to work, even in its unpleasantest form, such as cleaning out the lavatories, washing up our dishes after meals. Some of them look like old-fashioned princesses in their quaint wimples & veils. My hands are now coarse and unpresentable but theirs - still seem to retain their beauty.
There are 3 kitchens and the same number of dining halls. We feed in Kitchen No I - which is run by very capable nuns. Kitchen No. 2 is run by Joan Donnelly. It is absolutely hopeless. More often than not the folks just have bread & margarine for breakfast because the cooks, etc. do not arrive before 7.45. People leave the table ravenous.
We are definitely treated like jailbirds. Lights out at 10p.m. All our money handed in to the bank. But the lavatories are disgraceful. The ladies’ have been unusable because of stoppage for practically a week - I daren’t think what this place will be like when the flies come.
I have not been able to keep my promise to write to you every day as my days are full to overflowing and literally have no time to spare. This eternal round of washing of clothes,
queuing up for meals, for the lavs, for water, takes up practically four to five hours of one’s days.
Our home is a popular pied-a-terre, and not a day passes that we haven’t a genuine caller. Of course we have been fortunate in that we have been given 2 rooms, which give us a certain amount of space. Robbie comes in for his elevenses, Marie & children for tea and then Robbie & Marie pop in for tea after supper.
The food here is most inadequate for hardworking men. Can you imagine what it must be like to begin the day with bread porridge (well cooked & nicely flavoured with orange peel, by the nuns) then stew, potato, leeks for tiffin, then spinach soup for supper? Fortunately, one can eat as much bread as required. This diet cannot be blamed upon the cooks - they have as a matter of fact produced the best result on the poor materials given.
A case of Typhus has been brought to light - a Belgian Trappist monk, his clothes and bedding will be sterilised, or rather deloused - and he was covered in typhus lice. Must have been disgusting sight. He is expected to pull through.
28-X-44 On rereading through I have to add that I made milk puddings for the priest as often I
could.
The warmer weather has come thank goodness and we are able to leave our front door open all day. But tonight, the Salvation Army are playing their wind instrument in the church garden, just within a stone’s throw from us, and I hope it will not chase away all that I want to tell you.
From 7 p.m. to 8. it is my own precious hour, when Christine is asleep, Peter and Gay
still away playing and Sid a-calling, I recline on my bed, with the door open, and if I care to look out on to what we call the Main street I can see the world and his wife out on their evening stroll - the ultimate object being the baseball field immediately behind our house. There’s no other walk.
I attended Passion Day Mass and was most impressed. It is amazing to see such an array of bishops and clergy. The service is held in the non-denominational church, and the stage is quite narrow with one circular stained glass window, quite low behind the altar. Five bishops, 2 on one side and 3 on the other in their purple beretta, etc., and the singing was magnificent. I never realised that plain chant could sound so full and round and mellow. The Passion was sung by three deacons on the stage each his prescribed bit – which lasted an hour, of course.
Shall I tell you the duties of my typical day. Up for roll call at 7.30 then dress myself and Christine (Sid dresses Peter). Then I make the beds and collect all the cups and utensils used the night before by visitors and selves. Then queue up outside dining room for the dishes to be washed by the Nuns, then return with thermos flasks for boiled water. Then wash nappies, perhaps sheets, pillow-slips, towels, shirts, undies, regularly I wash 40 pieces daily. Then cook Christine’s two-course lunch, Christine is fed fruit or pot and into bed. Then queue up for the tiffin, get dishes washed, fetch boiled water, tidy up again, take Christine out from 3 to 4, visiting. Then prepare orange juice for Christine, tea for the Robinson kids and our own, then bathe Christine, feed her and put her to bed. Then queue up at 6.15 for supper, wash dishes, draw boiling water. Then peace and quiet until 8.15, when the Robinsons, perhaps Hennings drop in
for tea, coffee on Saturday. Visiting the lavatory at 9.30, lights out 10p.m. and bed! Isn’t that a full day. Gay is in second upper and loves school. Bobbie D. just upper, the parents don’t understand why, but I do.
Love to you both, Ida
P.S. My carpentry comes in handy, I have made shelves etc. and other things.
Actual letter to:
18th April
Dear Freda:
I have just returned from Mass which has impressed me beyond words. Can you imagine Mass celebrated in a non sectarian church, filled on the left side by American, Dutch & Belgian Priests, on the right by American, Dutch & Belgian nuns. The stage consisted of a very plain altar, and on each side of which sat five bishops, looking magnificent in their purple & grey robes and purple berettas. The centre was filled by the ordinary lay congregation, a large number of non-Catholics attended the service.
I loved taking part in the responses to the Latin chants. The male priestly choir was beautiful it made my heart want to stop beating.
Then the sermon was given by Father Leo, Superior of the Peking Franciscans. His delivery was little short of perfection, he was obviously an American, and that slight accent did not spoil the English,
on the contrary I think it gave it a very attractive tone.
I came away with all sorts of good resolutions in my heart.
Peter almost spoilt it all. He has become quite uncontrollable and seems to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. He became quite fidgety during Mass.
on the contrary I think it gave it a very attractive tone.
I came away with all sorts of good resolutions in my heart.
