My father, Bob Rylands, was a Captain in the KSLI (later, a Major) and served in WWII, including landing on Sword beach on D Day. (His account of this experience is quoted by Max Hastings in his book Overlord.)
Through the whole of the war, my father wrote to my mother, mostly letters but also poems; it was in effect an epistolary courtship. As soon as war ended, they married. It was a source of much distress to my father that, when they retired and moved home, she threw away many of his letters. However, we saved all that were left after their deaths and my husband transcribed all of them, as they were written in pencil which continues to fade as the years pass. They reveal much about the experience of war, both on a deeply personal level and more broadly about the events of WW2 in its final years. The letters begin in June 1944 and finish in 1945, with a poem my father wrote looking back over the experience. (He became, as I did, an English teacher and was highly articulate.) The letters also include those to his mother whom he doted on.
The letter we have chosen is dated 27.7.44 and is an account of the D Day attack; it includes descriptions of his senior officer’s wounding which meant that he had to take over command. It also touches on comrades’ deaths and conveys his fear as well as use of British understatement. Beneath the gripping and upsetting war descriptions floats their love story, which, as their daughter, I find charming and moving.
Darling Jendy
Here’s the real letter I promised this morning – I hope I get it finished. I’ve just had one from you – terribly sorry to hear it’s tonsillitis. I know how grim it can make you feel. Now I’ll answer all your outstanding letters – such a lovely pile.
13th This arrived the night of the 17th, with our attack due early next morning, & darling, you couldn’t have timed it better, nor written a better letter. It’s been in my pocket since, & I read it repeatedly whilst waiting to go in next morning. I was very afraid this time, though I don’t think the photo shows it. But riding into action on a tank instead of in it is an unpleasant do. Actually I was hit by bits of mortar bomb during the procedure & again by shell splinters in the afternoon – they all bounced off! Tom was shot through the shoulder, & I’ve been commanding since – hence the majority, however brief its stay may prove. I’ve got a second in cmd today – a Regular many years my senior! An awfully nice chap called David C___. But that day was a strain – I actually got further forward by the evening with 19 chaps than anyone else. (I hadn’t realised we were on our own, nor presumably had Jerry.) We had been considered missing by the Bn., & my reappearance caused some surprise. But amongst others, Dickie and Peter W___ were killed. I’m faced with writing to both their girls. I’m afraid when I got back & heard about Dickie, I had to go away by myself. It was even worse than the awful day when the C.O. was killed – I expect you’ve seen that in the papers – Col. Maurice – he got the D.S.O., but never knew it, poor chap. Life seems very grim without them all. Derek, Jock and Guy T remain. Guy and I are the only rifle coy. officers left who landed on June 6th.
To return to your letter. I am so glad you’re jealous of Rose Helen! You know, it’s just nice to know you value me. I’ve got 4 unanswered letters of hers here now – she really is amusing, & I’m reaching the conclusion, not a little improper. But I can assure you I could meet her every day for a week, & you’d have no cause to worry. I know that. She does appear to like me a lot, though she thought I was 22! They certainly pig it, as you say, including having showers in a place open to public gaze! You’ve no idea of this joint – being back for 24 hrs doesn’t mean you can get anywhere – I never left the last place when I had 24 further than 100 yds. We’re resting at long last now, but I’m too busy to leave my coy. at all. Anyway, one can’t get around without permits & things, & I’d say the US Sector would be quite impenetrable.
Jenny, I was flabbergasted to hear you kissed my photo – do you really love me as much as that? And are you so complete a sentimentalist? I still don’t know you! Am I allowed to ask if you used to kiss Chris’ photo?!
I’ve just read your bit about the concert & Miss Arnold to my clerk, who loves music. He says how is Herbert S___ getting on? This clerk used to attend the concerts at Gloucester. He also used to work at the barracks and ogle Miss Whitaker’s pupils. (Since your time).
16th I’m worried about this Doctor – you really have got to watch over yourself now. Benjy seems very pleased about it.
How on earth do you imagine we’ve been playing cricket? Do you expect us to commit suicide? I’ve never been out of the shelling yet, though here we are to all intents and purposes – not a day too soon, for my nervous condition!
I believe Mike has been wounded.
It’s about time I said I love you Jendy – haven’t said it for exactly 10 days.
Did I tell you that I sent you a post card of a French Cathedral, in commemoration of July 12th. (You didn’t remember it!) But it was sent back for security reasons, even though I mentioned on the back that it would have been in the peace. I wish I could have had an anniversary kiss, Jen.
18th It was sweet of you to write in bed, when you were feeling weary & low, but there’s nothing to answer.
19th Darling, you’ve been writing heaps – you couldn’t have been better. And I’ve been bad so feel no shame. I’m eternally grateful to think how good you are to me in that & every way.
So Joe thinks you’re cold (I’m glad in that he thinks so). I would have believed the same a year ago.
I’m afraid Effie may be thinking the same of me just now – I had 3 letters from her in one day, all written in 48 hrs. She’d even called some total stranger “Bob”, whom she’d been chatting with. You must have been entirely right about her. T tells me she wrote – her name is BEHR.
I think I’ll keep your last two letters to answer tomorrow. Good night my darling Jendy.
All my love
Bob
