"Many a time, my mate and I have waited for a bus on the left-hand side of the road, and then we have woke up to the fact that they travel on the right side of the road. But of cause, we are getting more used to it now so I suppose it will come strange again when we come home."
In 1942, my Grandad (Ted Smith), was posted to New York to fit supply ships with guns. He was living in an apartment with a mate in Brooklyn, and working at The Ministry of Shipping at 25, Broadway. New York in the 40’s!
On 10th October, he wrote a letter in tiny writing to his Mum and Dad in Leytonstone, East London. Delighted that there are references to farting and drinking. Here’s a little excerpt, transcribed from the original.
Transcript:
By the way, how is Charlie getting along? Alright I hope. Give him my best respects and tell him I hope they still have plenty of gas left in the gas company, but should they run short, I think him and Jack would be able to supply plenty. Ah ah. Nell tells me my brother Stan has been promoted serjant, we are getting a proper promotion family on the quiet, aren’t we. Have you been able to have a run over to our place at Walthamstow, Dad. I hope it is still standing. I expect it is in rather a dirty condition now, I know it worries Nell a bit. Still it will all be cleaned up when this war finishes, and hurry up I say.
How’s the old ‘Bell’ looking up Dad? Do you get up there much these days? Couldn’t I go a nice pint of English ale now, this is all like larger beer out here. It’s not too bad once you get used to it but if you do have a drop too much it leaves you with rather a big crust in the morning, well it does me, anyhow. But it soon goes off. Of course I think I told you in my last letter Dad, they are open all day long here from 8am til 4am, Sundays 1pm til 4am. But as I have said, I don’t touch it during the week, well I can’t afford to, one thing, so it doesn’t worry me much being open all day. But of course it is nice to know if you want a drink you can just get it. My mate is rather fond of a drink, but I’m beginning to bring him round to my way of thinking but he is a proper pal and a good sport.
Thanks for the information about your brother Charles, Dad. Of course 30 years is a long time ago, it is a pity you could not find that letter from his wife. Then again, I don’t suppose she would be at the same address now, would she? But still I’ll keep my ears open etc etc, and perhaps I might get to find something out about them although we don’t touch the Navy Yard at Brooklyn in our work, not at present, anyhow. Of course, we might do later on if America comes into the war.
How are things Dad, in general, as regards food. Do you manage to get enough? We have heard that fags are hard to get and also that some of the public houses are closed all the week, and only open the weekends, is that so? Well, you can always do without beer, can’t you? I’m sure you can Dad. Ah ah. How about a nice little trip in the old bike, now Dad? Good eh? Nothing so common out here, it’s all cars. No wonder, they are so cheap to run. I was talking to a chap the other day, and he had a 30 horsepower car and all it cost him to run it was 15 dollars a year. About £4. Why, in England, to run a car like that it would cost about 20 to 30 pounds I reckon. I haven’t got a car yet, and I don’t think I will, as I don’t think I could get used to the right-hand driving out here. Many a time, my mate and I have waited for a bus on the left-hand side of the road, and then we have woke up to the fact that they travel on the right side of the road. But of cause, we are getting more used to it now so I suppose it will come strange again when we come home.
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