MY TRULLY
By EVELYN SIMPSON Y TRULLY christened himself. His first letter to me began " Dear Miss E. Simpson," and ended " Your Trully Jim Smith," and 'My Trully he has remained ever since. In fact, I now find it quite difficult to remember offhand what his real name is, and I had a little shock when once (but only once) he lapsed into the familiarity of " Your Sincerly."
He is what the ladies' magazines call a pen-friend. When my brother was called up two years ago, he wrote to tell me about one of the men in his tent who appeared to have no family and no friends, and who had not received- a single letter or parcel since he joined the army. Would I, asked my brother, write to him occasionally, so that he would at least have an envelope to open when the other boys were reading their mail from home? His parents had died when he was a boy, and since then he had done casual jobs—a bit of road-repairing, a bit of unskilled labouring, and so on—and had never settled down anywhere. I said I would do my best, but I was not very enthusiastic. How could I write letters worth reading to someone about whom I knew so little, and with whom I obviously had so little in common? I would regard it as part of my war work, but I didn't expect to enjoy it. The very first letter, which came almost by return of post in reply to mine, reassured me, and ever since then my almost weekly budget has been one of the nicest things in a not very pleasant world.
" Dear Miss E. Simpson " the letter_ ran, " Just a few lines to thank you for your letter and parsel as it came a great surprise to me, and I must thank your brother very much for thinking of me . Just at the moment I am sitting on the floor with my dinner plate for a writting desk as we are billeted in empty houses with no chairs or tablet so you must excuse my writting. Some time I think I am lucky in having no perants as some of the boys are allways worrying about them. I use to have a few friends before I joined the army but they seem to have forgotten me. I am afraid I must close now for the present as it is nealy light out. I thank you for the sock as they are just the right size."
As for things to write about, so far we have had no difficulty in finding them. I tell Trully about what is happening to me here at home, and he comments. In the blackberry season last year, for example, he wrote: " I hope Jerry does not invade your jelly," and later, when I told him that my charwoman had left, and I couldn't find another, he sympathised " If you don't get someone soon, I shall have to apply for compassionate leave and come and help you." In return he tells me about life in the army. " Another officer came today this makes the tenth I don't know if their supposed to learn us or us them." " The new major is Irish and as a devil of a temper bur I suppose we shall get use to him." " The new major is no better he is a grumpy old frosil." " General X. came to inspect us yesterday and we had a march past, and didn't we show off for even the major who as never smiled since we've known him gave us a little bit of credit." " There was an'other march past this afternoon and the Major was very pleased with us and gave us all a pint of beer each." At last " This will be a lonely place in the winter but one thing we've lost the major."
Sometimes he cheats. I think he must copy things out of books, or get someone to help him with his letters, for he occasionally turns out purple passages like "This is indeed a lovely spot, with the silver seven meandering through the green fields " or " Let us pray that next christmas peace will be here and we shall all be reunited with our dear ones " or " I must also thank you for the books for I am keeping them to wile away the weary hours of gaurd if the sireens don't go." But as a rule he keeps to everyday matters and answers all my questions with the most careful thoroughness. Once I asked him what was the difference between a gunner (his own rank) and a private, and this was his reply : " About the different ranks in the army, in the infantry they run, private lance corperal, corperel, sarjent, in the Royal Artillery they are the same but a different name Gunner, lance bombardier as one stripe a full bombardier as two stripe and a sarjent as three, as far as I know some old General wanted to be different to the rest of the army so he gave us a different name " . . . When all my friends were talking enthusiastically about the new plans for army education, I used Trully as a guinea-pig : the result was hardly encouraging. " I am afraid you would not do very well in our battery with lectures as thats what we get from morning till night and many's the boys got C.B. for falling to sleep in same."
From time to time I hear about some of these " boys." " One of the boys had a peace of bad luck," I was told. " He was all teddy for his seven days and had his kit all packed and everything when the major caught him sitting down by the gun so he had is seven days C.B. and when he was out and all teddy again he was essing about with the gun and accidentally fired same so now e as to go before a court." (What, I enquired, happened to you you had to go before a court? Were you turned out of the Army? " No, you are not turned out of the army for firing guns r else we should all be firing them all day long.") Again, " Nothing uch as happened this week except that one of the boys ran amoke e had a nervous brakedown and as I was on guard that night had to look after him, and what a time I had."
Recently, Trully's letters have become rather less frequent, and though the reason he always gives is that he has been " very sy," I have cause to believe that there may be another and more easing one. For a few weeks ago he wrote such a blissfully happy ount of a day's leave spent in the nearest town that I was drawn remark that I hoped he had a friend to share it with him. His ply was satisfactory, though ambiguous. " I must tell you I've and a friend to go out with me the only thing is they get fed up waiting for us to get out which is only once a week." My iosity triumphed over delicacy. Was it, I firmly asked, a girl end? This time my information was definite. " Yes it is a friend and she is teaching me to dance I have never bothered ut it before and I did feel a fool but she says I am doing fine. e had a social yesterday and the girl friend won the spot dance not with me worst luck." I pressed home my advantage, saying I hoped she did not live too far away, so that they could meet ly often, and Trully wrote " The girl friend lives quite near in fact her back garden comes right down to my gun sight so u see I am alright for a cup of tea now and then." It looks as as the good old silent screen used to say, Romance has Dawned, I hope that by next Christmas Trully will be able to spend seven days with his own "dear ones " instead of in a hostel in chester.
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