My dearest Harold,

I know I said I'd wait for you to write me before you left but it's been weeks and I still haven't received anything but the post. You can imagine my frustration at this. I miss you ever so dearly and everytime the paper boy comes past I ask him if we've won the war yet; he always says no. I think he's beginning to grow annoyed with me.

I hope you're alright. You know how I feel about boats and all that; I haven't the slightest idea how you were able to get back on a boat after we got home. I suppose that just shows how very brave you are and it's one of the things I love about you.

Laurie and Elanor are doing alright; it's hard without you though. I know they're only a few months but I believe they got used to the sight of you. Gertrude, the lady across the street with that yappy yorkie puppy, offered to watch them while I pitched in at the factories. They're a few miles away but the walk is nice and peaceful. It gives me lots of time to think.

But enough about me. How are you? I don't remember what boat you're on but I think it's quite big. Is it big? Or small? Have you got your own bed, being an officer and all. But are you an officer on that ship? Are there even officers? I haven't got a clue.

I'm rambling and running out of room. I suppose I could use the back but I won't tempt myself. Write back soon if you can. Your family thinks of you often.

Love,

Winifred

Winifred,

I'm sorry I didn't write you. Getting used to being at sea again took its toll and I spent these past weeks feeling sick. You should refrain from torturing the paper boy; I fear he'll stop giving us paper. I'm flattered that you think I'm brave but I think it's just the fact that I'm stubborn.

You must give my love to the children. I miss you all too, but just think of when I get home. They won't even remember I was gone. I intend to make Laurie a fine sailor when he gets old. Tell Gertrude thank you for me; she's a nice woman, though that yorkie I could do without.

I hope you won't exhaust yourself at work. I should grow self conscious if I came back and you had more muscles than me. I am very proud that you are pitching in to help our country, but know that there is nothing more important to me than you, so don't overexert. The children need you. I need you.

The boat I am on is not that large. It is a medium sized boat, much like the one we came back on. They do have officers on this boat but they're much different than the ones on Titanic. I tried to teach you but you never listen. Now that you have it in writing, perhaps you'll remember.

I don't mind you rambling. I could spend hours reading your letters. I hope you'll send more. They're the only things that lift my spirits while we're at sea.

You and the children are always in my heart,

Harold

My dearest Harold,

Your letter put a smile on my face. I nearly kissed the postman when he handed it to me. I should think it would be a scandal if anyone saw me. You will be happy to know I have stopped bugging the paper boy and have taken to just taking getting the post first thing in the morning from his truck. This, however, might annoy him more.

The children and I have been fantasizing about your return. By that I mean I speak to them and they listen. You should see Elanor's face when I speak to her. Her eyes grow so big and round. They look just like yours. I wish you could see them.

I was thinking of getting a family portrait taken and sending it to you so you can have it with you. Is that too much? I would have to retake it when you got back because our family isn't complete without you.

Laurie has just said his first words.

"Dad"

Are you pleased? I thought you would be pleased by that. I talk about you that often, Harry. At first I used to call you by your name to them but I've started saying father and dad a lot. Elanor hasn't spoken but she does mimick my facial expressions pretty well.

They don't cry too much, but it's a handful when they're having one of their fits.

What to say…The ivy on the walls outside have started to cover the windows. I'm too short to get them. I was thinking of asking Edward from down the road but when I went to his house his wife said he had gone to war too. Perhaps you'll see him! Say hello for me!

The bed is awfully cold without you. I was considering getting a dog to fill your spot but what would happen to it when you get back? I would love it too much to make it sleep anywhere else but beside me. Perhaps I won't get a dog then.

I heard this new song a girl was singing at work the other day. It went something like "At night, dear heart, for you I pine, in all my dreams, your fair face beams, you're the flower of my heart." Aren't those just the nicest lyrics. I should like to put them on a pillow or something; if only I knew how to knit.

I've run out of things to say, I'm afraid. I love you and miss you very much.

Love,

Winnie

Winifred,

Thank you for replying so quickly. When I read your letters, it's almost as if you're here talking to me. You write the same way you speak; but that makes sense, doesn't it?

I haven't seen much action, being in the reserves and all, but we've hit at least three German cruisers in the last few months. I have to admit the thought of a sinking ship had never before made me happy but seeing them go down did something for me.

Your letters get longer every time and it comforts me in my bunk. I've been informed we're getting close to a victory on the south Atlantic. We haven't arrived yet but since the Germans are no longer a threat in this part of the ocean we're been told to go forward. I tire out more easily than a few years ago. Perhaps it's the stress.

I am overjoyed at Laurie's first words. I wish I could be there to hear him. I feel that I am slacking as a father but I suppose I can't think that way. I hope I am not slacking as a husband as well. You gave up much to come live with me, even if you don't realize it. I sometimes wonder what you would be doing if we had never met or if you had hid better with the chickens.

I hope the children's crying gets better as well. Perhaps teething? I heard my mother say that once. Speaking of my mother, maybe you could go to visit them or live with them awhile. I'm sure she would be happy to help. Just a thought.. I think you would like the town I used to live in.

I haven't heard about Edward but I will make sure to keep an ear out. Maybe he's with the land forces? I hope he is okay.

I apologize that my letters aren't as long as yours. I have little time to write, we've been so busy. I think my handwriting is getting sloppier everyday I am at sea.

Those lyrics to the song are very sweet. I should like to hear it when I get back. In the meantime, I too have heard a song. A lad in my bunk said his sweetheart back home sang it to him the night he shipped off. I suppose her rendition of it was better than his when he sang it to me. The vocals were lacking but the lyrics themselves I think you would like very much. I have included inside a snippet of what he wrote down for me. When you sing it, you must think of me.

Know that I will be looking up at the same sunset, thinking of you fondly and forever,

Harry

~Included~

Must you really sail away my Honey Boy

Must you go

Don't you know

When your ship sails down the bay, my Honey Boy

I'll be true to my Honey Boy, to you

For I love you best of all, my Honey Boy

Don't you sigh

Time will fly

When you're on the deep blue sea,

Try and think sometimes of me,

I'll be waiting anxiously, Honey Boy.

My dearest Harry,

Perhaps your letter got stuck in the mail or however those things work. It has been months and I've only just received it. I think the song you included was very beautiful; in fact I've started singing it to the children before they go to bed. I don't think they care but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?

I don't believe you're slacking as a husband or a father, and though we miss you very much, we still love you as if you were here.

The children have grown ever so big; Laurie's just started talking and Elanor is catching on as well. I don't think moving in with your parents will be a good idea. It's a long move and also we've only met a few times. I appreciate the thought though.

Perhaps it's selfish but I'm glad you haven't seen much action. I fear if you saw a lot I would lose to stay out of too much trouble.

I finally got the ivy down. I used a ladder from one of the shops in town. The owner was kind enough to let me burrow it for a few hours. I'll have to thank him somehow.

The house is getting messier by the day. The children have already started walking and have taken to grabbing things. I've had to put up all the pointy and flammable objects. The lantern you bought me for my birthday was almost broken. Imagine the scare I had when I saw it teetering off the edge of the mantle.

I read in the paper that they're speaking of a treaty of some sort. I hope that fixes everything and you come back. I promise to clean up and comb my hair. The children and I will be on our best behavior.

Oh! Laurie's gotten hold of one of my books. I have to get him before he begins to eat it. He's getting his final teeth; the ones in the back. I'm sorry my letter's not as long as usual. I promise they'll be longer in the future. Ah! And I took that family photo. I've got one and I'm mailing one to you with this letter. Perhaps keep it in your pocket.

Loving you always and forever,
Winnie

Winnie,

Thank you for the picture. I've got a pocket in my uniform right atop my heart. Whenever I feel stressed I pull it out and gaze at your faze. The children have gotten bigger! I've been away far too long. But you look the same as when I left. Did you cut your hair? I could swear t was longer when I left!

I'm sorry to hear my mail was delayed. I think the mail ship had to take a detour of some kind because of a U-boat on its route. I'm just thankful it reached you.

How long has it been since I've been with you? Let's see…I left in 1916 and I'm fairly certain we're reaching the end of 1918 now. This is the longest I've been away.

I have exciting news though. My fleet has been recalled! We are being sent back to England! Rejoice on the ship is momentous. I write to you now looking out at sea. I can already smell the honeysuckles in the yard and apple cider.

We should be home within the next few months if everything goes right. I dream of holding you in my arms and kissing you till I cannot kiss you anymore. How I have missed the warmth of having someone else in my bed, or the tranquility I feel when you lay your head on my chest.

Darling, I promise when I get back, you will never feel sadness again. If you cry, you will do it happily. If your heart aches, it will be from loving too much. These past years have been a strain, and you and I both feel that. I promise I will strive to be the best father and best husband you truly deserve. And I promise that your lips will always be red.

Wait for me,

Harry