7th March 1945

Wednesday

Dull, and a little rain.  To office, hard work all day.  Got ready for a school-class in the library.  Parcel came from home, posted Monday morning, but reached here only today.  Miss Payne sent me an orange!  Bless her.  Letter tells me there were five alarms at Colchester on Friday, and one at 11.45 on Sunday morning.  Father has not been very well, but seems better now.

John Swift called for me in his car tonight, and I hope I have left the White Lion for ever.  43 Clarkson Ave. is a very pleasant house.  Had it all to myself this evening.  A lot of noise of aircraft, and a big explosion about 8 o’clock.

The only other lodger at the moment is Dorothy Brewer, headmistress of the Queen’s Girls School.  She is a very tall, good-looking Lancashire girl, very charming, and extremely young to be a headmistress – certainly not more than about 25 or 26.  There is also a Miss Tony who lives here permanently, a very old lady, but have not seen her yet.  The rest of the household consists of Mrs. B’s husband, semi-paralysed by a stroke and there is a son, Alan, who must weigh 18 or 19 stone, and only 19 years old, who has a terrific stammer.

News this morning that the little Jones girl has been reprieved.  Great indignation among the White Lion inhabitants, who were determined to a man (or rather to a woman) to hang her.

6th March 1945

Tuesday

Glorious morning.  Decided to go to King's Lynn.  Left at one, arrived 2.30.  In several places on the way saw ploughing and drilling with 3-horse teams.  Went to Lynn Market – several horses and ponies for sale.  A poor market though, very much down-at-heel.  The day of the country market is ended.

Went into Museum, which is in a terrible state of neglect and decay.  Quite the most derelict collection I have seen, yet containing so much good stuff.  A lot of birds, some rubbish, but including a sea-eagle from the Norfolk coast.

A Saxon skeleton is shown, not only with the objects associated with it, but with other objects found nearby, all huddled together in one case.  Labelling very poor.

In the main hall is a tiger given by George V, a good specimen but so unsuitable here.  Walls of the hall – (it is an old chapel) covered with heads and antlers, and at one end, a huge painting of a hunt, early 19^th century.  Lighting poor.

A case labelled “bones” includes human and animal, some ancient, some modern anatomical specimens.  A label on a human femur says rather startingly: “Foremost of the mammiferous divisions of Creation, Man forms the culminating point of the great scheme of nature.”

In another case, an alleged “hoard” of arrowheads, found in Norfolk.  Several American specimens are labelled as being of Norfolk origin.  The stone implements, many from Norfolk, are very good.  All labels are typewritten, and are bad.

There are cases of fossils, bugs, butterflies, a large brown bear, a deer, foreign shells, a passenger pigeon, foxes, and monkeys, (the last all in one case).  At one end is a Morrison shelter, presumably for the Curator’s use.

The Archaeology is badly shown.  Everything they have is in one case – a beaker, Roman, Saxon and Medieval pottery, many with labels wildly wrong, but maybe they are on the wrong objects.  Noticed Romano-British sherds from Roman villa at Grimston, given by P.G. Laver.

Runcton Holme – material of the same character as that from the Redhills.

Some labels seek to absolve the local authorities from responsibility by saying “Classified by the British Museum.”

One label mentions 120 Romano-British pots (cinerary urns?) found near Swaffham in 1879 when cutting for the railway.  A nice beaker is shown, from Massingham, near the Peddar’s Way.

There is a nice specimen of the ichthyosaurus, found in 1844.

Behind the main hall is the old chapel school-room, now divided into two sections.  One is used for art exhibitions, and the other contains an astonishing mixture of Royal gifts, ethnology, and local Lynn and Norfolk bygones.  There are some very nice Lynn prints, relics of Eugene Arain, portrait of dear little Fanny Burney, a magnificent Viking period stirrup, inlaid with gold, half a dozen celd and a palstrave, a “Celtic” horse shoe, tobacco pipes, a wood “spud”, all in one case.  There are 15 loom weights, but no labels on them.  Every case is dirty.

Some of the African material is very good.

Quite a lot of pilgrim badges, dredged up from the Purfleet.  Some Roman coins, badly labelled, many of them obviously fakes.  Among the bygones is a fascinating “horn moon” a great rarity.  The collection has great possibilities.

Walked round the town.  Noticed very nice house, about 1525, Bennetts Yard, at the N. end of Tuesday Market.  Lower storey is stone, with a fine Tudor Gothic arch leading into yard at rear, and the upper is a massive-framing, overhanging on the street front.  The place is now derelict, but not beyond help.  It appears to be the only survivor of a considerable slum clearance.

Called at the Library, and saw in the Lynn paper that A.P.D. Penrose has been adopted candidate at the coming election.  Reference Library is still firmly closed.

After 6 the town was quite deserted, and rain began, with low scudding clouds.  Set off home, leaving Lynn in its black-out and rain.  Thought of the little Welsh girl Jones, who is to be hung for murder in 36 hours time.  Thought too of the possibility of increased air attacks this month, before the lighter nights come.

Saw the brighter street lights of Walsoken at quarter past 8.  Turned off at Sandringham Avenue, and called on the Levers.  He remarked on the brilliance of the gas-lamps in his road, all of which are left burning during raids.  The only thing to do, in event of an attack being obvious, house-holders to go out and smash the lamps.

Stayed until 10, then walked slowly back to the White Lion.  Found a very pleasant Irish girl there, a Miss Courtney, something to do with the Girls’ Life Brigades.  Sat talking about Ireland (she is from Ulster) until nearly midnight, and so sadly to bed.

5th March 1945

Monday

Quiet night.  Up early, and got ready for the meeting of the Committee at 12.  Eight members came, including old Edwards.  At the end, there was a “secret session”, when he and I were firmly excluded.  Seems probable that the Committee are about to make him some sort of presentation.  Quite right too.

Letter from dear Ann hardly readable, scrawled in pencil.  Says she is suffering badly with fibrositis in both arms and both legs, can scarcely move.

Worked in office until 8, and then walked out in the rain and went round to the Osbornes in Lynn Road.  We sat talking until 11 and past.  Home in the dark, - no moon until 12.30am.  As I lay reading in bed at one o’clock, a ‘plane crashed somewhere in the Fens, not very far off.

4th March 1945

Sunday

Asleep last night before midnight, without a care in the world, only to be awakened soon after by the sirens.  Cloudy sky, and an obscured moon, not at all the sort of weather when an attack might be expected.

Most of the street lights were on, and cars were moving about, men and girls laughing and screaming outside the Town Hall, where there had been a dance.  Dressed over pyjamas and went down to the street to see what was happening.  Walking along South Brink.  The clocks struck one, and there was a distant explosion.  Met a group of “specials” at the corner of Somers Road, stopped to talk. 

Turned back along the Brink, walked round the Crescent, (another heavy distant explosion) and went through the churchyard.  Some men on the far side of the Market were singing and shouting. 

Most of the street lights still on – apparently no means of extinguishing them.  Streets silent now, except for the sound of footsteps echoing across the river.  The moon shone faintly on Bank House.  Wondered if Miss Simpkin [the housekeeper] was awake – Miss Peckover [the owner of Bank House] of course sleeping the blessed sleep of the deaf.

Gentle rain began to drip down like dew.  More flashes, East and North.  A car drove into the yard of the box factory, a man got out, roused the Watchman, unlocked a building.  Went in, put all the lights on regardless of raid and “semi-blackout”, came out dragging a heavy chain, piled it into his car, jumped in, called “Goodnight” and drove rapidly away towards the town.  Leverington Church struck 2, a faint, distant fairy bell.  Wisbech clocks both followed.  A “jeep” came rushing along at terrific speed.  The street lights were now out, except for those on the bridge, no doubt left on to help the enemy find this important target.

Met the “Specials” again.  Told them who I was.  One elderly man, (Mr Stimpson the Grocer) very pleasant, said he’d read about me in the paper, and asked how old Curtis Edwards was.  Suddenly at 2.25am the sirens screamed ‘all clear’. 

Sunny this morning.  Conversation at breakfast all about the alarm.  Fair fat blonde saying she was terrified, and intended to go home to Cheshire.

Rain this afternoon, but went to see Warby at Elm.  He gave me several more pots in fragments, and some more T.S. sherds.  Called at “The Limes”.  Delighted to find Mrs. Coulter there, her husband having gone to a pedigree Jersey farm in the Cotswolds to get some semen for one of his cows.  There is no doubt that farming is now reaching the ultimate insanity.

Mrs. Coulter talked about the raid last night.  Said she was very frightened, and just could not bear it if they were going to start regular nightly raids again.  Did not say that I fear this is only too probable.  Stayed talking until 10.30, then back to an early bed hopefully.

3rd March 1945

Saturday

Another busy day.  Did 12 letters, mostly to Colchester.  

Tonight called on the Swifts’, and talked about my moving.  John very kindly offered to bring my things from the White Lion in his car.

2nd March 1945

Friday

Fine day.  Everybody on earth came in to see me while I was away, a mass of odd jobs and chores to be got through.  Miss  Thompson in a very bad temper all day.

Art Club tonight, a very pleasant meeting.

Saw Mrs Burnett today, and arranged to move next Wednesday.  Feel very happy in the prospect of leaving this hotel.  The dinner tonight was abominable.

1st March 1945 - St David's Day

Thursday

Had a good breakfast, left at 9, and caught a bus on the Horkesley Road.  To the Museum and saw Poulter.  Spoke about a Mr Kitchen who lives at Bures and who is an official at the Ealing Film Studios.  Might be a useful contact.

Went to see Diana, and took her for a coffee.  She spoke about a woman who said she wanted her daughter trained for dancing, especially for the ballet.  The woman said: “She’s only eight, but she ballets beautifully!”  Diana said she wished I was back in Colchester.  Called at the Town Hall and spoke to Harvey about the ARP troubles at Wisbech.  He advised me to see the County Controller at March, or, failing him, the Regional Commissioner’s Office at Cambridge.

There was a small excavation just outside the Albert Hall, and a few fragments of Roman tile and Septaria were thrown up.  It is approximately where the north boundary wall of the Roman main street might be expected.

The station was full of conscripts and troops, with notices all over the place – “Recruits for Mecanee Report Here”, “All Returning BLA men Report RTO on other Platform” etc.  Saw old Sim the horse-loader, who asked about Grubb.  On the way down to the station, looked in at the North Castle Stables, but there was no sign of Robin.

The train was made up of decent, clean, comfortable coaches, most unusual.  Surprised to see Mrs Seymour and Anne get in, on their way to Ipswich.  Anne looked very pretty.  Her likeness to Alan in both appearance and mannerisms, as he was as a boy, is quite remarkable.

Train ran well on time, past all the old places – Ardleigh Station and the little gate lodge, the Land Settlement, Birketts Wood, the long meadow.  Humberlands among the trees, (What of the General?), then Sherbourne Mill, the house, and the buildings, with some washing hanging out.  At Manningtree the tide was full, and little sparkling waves glittered all over the estuary.

On the other side of Ipswich, up the green Gipping valley, the deep auburn coloured Suffolk horses were cropping the sparse grass under a pale eggshell blue sky.  The trees and hedges were just tipped with green, and the winter corn is beginning to show in the dry sandy fields.  The great timber mill looked very fine.  Here and there the landscape is spoilt by harsh lines of Council houses.  In many places horses were at plough. 

Got to March at 4.20, and found no train to Wisbech until 5.40.  Spent the time making sketches for an  Art Club competition “March” – they mean of course the month, but I can't resist a feeble pun.  Noticed what a common thing it is now for officers to carry their own luggage.  

Away at last, home at 6, and feel ready for a quiet night.  Called at the office, but disappointed to find no letters at all, nothing from Edinburgh, nothing from Ann.