83 St. George’s Rd

London S.W1.1

13.9.39

Dear Lawrence,

Do forgive me for being so long in writing. You are always so thoughtful about letting me here about things, and I feel very remiss. But you can realize now how busy we have been all summer in case anything happened. I was to take my vacation in September; now I am afraid I have lost it altogether, as they have cancelled all leave. We have been at war for ten days now and I can hardly realize it even yet. It had to come or it would have been our turn next but I assure you this little island- not as big as New York State- has taken on a big job. But with France and our colonies, and the moral support (which I know we have from America) of all our friends we will pull through. We are so much nearer to Germany then you that the situation has been intolerable for years. We have taken in refugees and lent money and tried to reach a peaceful settlement with Germany, till nothing further could be done. My department is responsible for A.R.P. locally lest it is all in voluntary hands now and the people are doing so well. London is much the same as usual during the day except that nearly all the windows are plastered with protective paper, even the store windows; people are going about as usual and business as usual, but at night all is dark and silent. No theatres or cinemas; little traffic, for people are all “to hum”, there is none of the excitement that I remember in 1914; people are just quietly working. I had to work late at the office one night and even the charwomen wanted to leave her pails and fetch me some supper! But I assured her that I was nearly finished. You know the war news in America nearly as well as I do. For with wireless now and radio message, the world seems only 5 minutes away from everything. I was listening to Raymond Gram Swing last night from New York. He is always so interesting.

My sisters in Argyleshire have both got evacuated children in their houses. It is an ill wind that blows no one any good for at least the children from crowded areas are being well looked after in the less crowded areas. They go to school, and really in their teachers charge. The teachers have accompanied them. But it has been a stupendous task and again nearly all done by voluntary workers, mostly women, who of course have more time.

We have had three air raid warnings only, so far. But I was through about 8 raids in the last war so they don’t worry me much. One gets blasé, and if you are to be bombed, well, you can't help it, so there isn’t much use worrying. Our houses all have rooms in the cellar cleared out for shelters and I have a lovely gas mask, which can be unpacked and bunched on in 30 seconds.

I have only had one letter from Scott since the war began; they are all so busy. Bessie has a Jewish boy, a refugee, going to school. His father is a Jewish doctor, but is interned somewhere, and she says that Peter is quite happy except when he gets a letter from the concentrating camp and then he cries. And the poor boy is only very slightly Jewish. I don’t like Jews but they should never have to suffer like that. One of the large boy’s schools in Edinburgh has given Peter a free place, and he says the boys are so nice to him. Then he will later go to one of our colonies, with, we hope, his parents. Another of my nephews, John S., whom Cousin Jesse will remember, is in artillery training near Edinburgh, and Andrew Y. is entering an officers training camp. Marius C., who is in his 4^th year as a medical, is working hard. His class volunteered to go together as a unit, but they were told they would serve best by finishing their training and they have been promised that they may do active work when needed, even if they aren’t quite thro’. But I hope we won’t have many casualties. Andrew C. in India is in the Bengal Light Horse (as a Volunteer officer) so he may be sent home. Charlie will probably go to Africa. He came over not long ago. I gave him your letter, as when it came he was away on his honeymoon! He said again how kind you were and was sorry not to see your friends. I send you a photo and a paper. I have met Frances. She is a nice girl, not pretty but with lots of common sense. Charlie did enjoy seeing you so much. I didn’t see him for nearly a month after he returned, but he told me all he could remember which was a great lot. He was only sorry that his stay was so short. He said what a good cook Blanche must be, so he must have enjoyed his supper, and he was sorry not to have able to visit Helen as well. It was so nice for him to meet them all. But he regretted not meeting Virginia. Perhaps Morris will be luckiest. He is determined to do a year’s medicine in America, either at Harvard or John Hopkins. But of course the war may change all that, like so many other things. He was in France lately with an athletic team, and they completed against some American athletes, and one be liked very much was Clarke J., who was in charge, I think, of the American team, but I have forgotten which they were.

Your friends would tell you about our meeting at the Elsenor Hotel. I did enjoy very much seeing them, but I still remember Miss Marie J. and would like to meet her again. Your friends had such a short time in London. Well I tried next day to run up to the hotel with a London tie for you; but that very day they decided to move our office to another address and I had to stay and take charge. However I hope I will get it out before long. Also I have not forgotten the photo of Stitchel. If I don’t manage up to Berwickshire soon, I will write for one to Kelso, and see if they have any on sale, better than those postcards of the church. But the gravestones and the church will last another 100 years. It is such a quiet peaceful place. I could almost wish I were there now. Charlie thought the World's Fair simply fine, and I am glad you had a visit in America from our King and Queen. They are a quiet and very charming couple, and have done very well since they came to the throne under very difficult circumstances. It must be difficult for Americans to realize that while they are the head of the state, we only regard them as two very nice people who have to do a hard job of work, part of which is historical. One of the things the people here liked best was reading about the American Senator, who called them ‘ Cousin George” and “Cousin Elizabeth,’ that did please the people here, for it was so spontaneous, and there are few people here who haven’t cousins in America or Canada. I went and saw all the films of Washington etc. It was so interesting. Then I saw them coming home from the station; all of London went as well, and I never saw the poor King look so bright and happy. I’m sure be won’t forget that visit for a long time, and the chatting with all the American reporters. He is so very English that he must have found them quite an education. All the church bells were ringing, and we liked like “Merrie England” again, and forget that we were a war- menaced country, for a short time anyhow. The Queen paid an unexpected visit to a Women’s Corps the other day. The people saw her car and when he came out, the car could hardly drive off, so many people ran to greet her. The young clerks, who were out for lunch, tried to make a way for her, and eventually she drove away smiling. In London they drive about quite unguarded, and no one ever thinks of danger (No S men).

Now I must close. This is a very long letter. Either I don’t write at all or else I write too much. Do let me hear soon how you are all getting on. I suppose Virginia will be going back to college now. By the way, I was re-reading some of your poetry the other day and it is very good indeed. Have you ever thought of having it in book form? One I liked so much was better than hundreds I have seen in harpers or the Century. Mother always used to look forward to your writings and thanks for the photographs, which I was so glad to see again. Have you one of Jean? Love to you all.

From

Mary Yarborough

Tell Cousin Jesse Hardie I will write her soon to Petersburg. I hope she is better.