Below you will find a small selection of letters both written by Mr Jim Forge and sent to him along with several poems he wrote.
Early letters contain the offer of a trial period at the Prudential assurance company, confirmation of student admission to The Royal Institute of British Architects and some poems. Letters from 1940 contain letters to and from Jim and his friend already in military service. The latter letters contain congratulations that Jim had won a poetry writing competition for army personnel in India. He also won the 2nd edition of the completion and was offered the chance to have his work published in Britain along with a sizeable cash prize.
Full transcripts below.
6364/2/1 Reference: 13th June 1933 Image Number: 6364-2- 1 1
6364/2/1 Reference: 5th August 1933 Image Number: 6364-2- 1 7
6364/2/1 Reference: 19/9/40 Image Number :6364-2- 1 11a
H Section,
161st A.A Battery R.A
Wood Cottage Hall
College Road,
Dulwich, S.E.21.
Thursday 9th September 1940
Dear James,
Very many thanks for your letter of the 8th. I am very sorry to hear your digestion is still giving much trouble as ever, and can only hope that at present it is behaving better than usual. I’m sorry to say too that the London editors are showing less perspicacity so to your literary work that at the Manchester Guardian. I don’t envy you your experience of being in a bombed area, nor the mental strain caused by having your family living only too near to a very popular military objective. You would have an even trickier time trying to get home now then you actually did, as the Southern doesn’t seem to come any nearer Waterloo than Wimbledon at the moment.
As you will have learnt from my last letter, which crossed yours, I did manage to get home for a somewhat peculiar leave; I was lucky to do so, as on the day of my return seven day leaves were cancelled for the time being, though twenty-four hours are continuing. Within a quarter of an hour of getting back, a bomb, fortunately a small one, was dropped about twenty five yards from my hut; like the true soldier I am I lost no time in diving under my bed as a fountain of earth shot up and then descended on the roof. The bomb was one of a stick dropped quite without warning from a loan raider flying in low cloud. Three of them fell on our site (all harmlessly) and the rest tailed across the common. Since then there has been peace for us though only once did we receive anything too uncomfortably close- a shower of incendiaries on Sunday morning- and we have been in action on standing by for it most of the time day and night, taking snatches of sleep when we can. Surprisingly we seem to thrive quite well on rationed rest, but it means that generally speaking there is no time for anything but work and sleep. So should you not hear from me for long intervals, don’t despair of ever seeing me again in this world. Today (touch wood) we are all enjoying a most unwontedly quite spell, though I don’t think it can last much longer. Usually everything is a mad race to beat the alarm bells. Our guns kick up and infernal din all night, but the people of Clapham seem to enjoy it (at least as an alternative to bombing) and have shown their appreciation in a minor fan mail, and more materially, two barrels of beer, some cake, and gloves and scarves. Very touching. Your confidential information about Bolton and Pauls and Shorts is interesting, but I hope you won’t have much more of the same kind to tell me in the future.
Many thanks for the puzzle, which I will try when I am feeling stronger in the brain- at first glance it looks utterly hopeless. I never was a mathematician anyway.
Very bad luck about the housing scheme- another case of the misunderstood man.
The Savoy Opera volumes sound most attractive and I hope to see them some day. Your offer to save me “the World of Nature” out of the Illustrated London News is very kind and I am sorely tempted, but on the principle of what the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve for, I think it best to refuse, thank you very much. I have collected more things than I really know what to do with as it is.
All the best – and don’t incite munity in the R.A.F. Grey, by the way, is now a Flight Lieutenant.
Please remember me to your mother next time you write. I hope she is keeping well. My own mother beams out wonderfully, though Putney isn’t as pretty as it used to be. Luckily our own house is intact so far.
Your affectionate friend
Desmond.
6364/2/1 Reference: 27.6.40 Image Number: 6364-2- 1 16
Manchester Guardian Competition 25
To An Umbrella
Symbol of power, borne high in state,
Behind a Eastern Potentate.
Butt of blunt wit & foolish jest
When brought _____ Cathey to the West.
Token on one man’s vain endeavour
To hold a crumbling world together.
You now shall come when, ringed by foes
Alone, undaunted Britain shows.
A world by Tyrants renewed
The lamp is mightier than the Sword.
27.6.40