This was found in a note book in the spare room at 146, Campkin Road, Cambridge, after Auntie Marie’s death (George & Marie Cruden were my great aunt and uncle- they lived at various addresses including Oxford Road, Cambridge and finally Campkin Road, Cambridge – George was my grannies brother [Connie Toller nee Broom]
A Garden of Memories by George Cruden
At the bottom of my garden are large trees; in my garden more trees, but these are fruit (the latter belonging to me, but not the former). Along this fringe of trees runs a stream, or ditch, which divided my bungalow from a cornfield at some time. Unfortunately the cornfield has gone, but we now have birds – birds of all kinds – birds which rob me of a good deal of fruit; in fact I never get a cherry from the cherry tree, which has thousands on it by early June. Alas, I have to be content with a pound of imported ones usually from the shop down the road. Realising after many years that it is necessary to compromise on some matters I have given in, but not without a certain amount of frustration, mark you; after all, does a bird really know what grows wild and what I cultivated? Perhaps they think we are robbing them of Nature’s food. Every time I have killed one of these birds in the past I have been filled with remorse. The dawn chorus, which during May and June begins about three-thirty a.m. also needs some re-adjustment of life.
However, I love my garden, and to potter about in the shade of the fruit trees, for instance, one remembers. One remembers, but does not plan; pleasant memories come crowding in of those years that have gone, of those people one knew, the places visited. For most of us, fortunately, we remember the most pleasant things above all, the sunny days especially. Why is it that we seem to have had March all summer years ago? I have to search my depths to remember fog or snow; it was there, certainly.
Being a Londoner, and having been born at the turn of the century I certainly can remember fog – those cobblestone streets, the smell of leather, horses, stables and blacksmith’s shops (I still love the smell of leather, of which we now see little.)
These letters belong to my aunt Joan Punter ( nee Toller ). They contain interesting home front information and political views of the war. They were written by my Great Aunt Marie Cruden( deceased ) to her husband George Cruden( also deceased ).
Marie refers to George as Peter Precious in many of these letters, this was because she was a Catholic ( originally from Ireland ) and when they first got together she didn't want to introduce him to her family as George because that was the Kings name! Some of these letters are written from London and from Nottingham where she lived at one point and also from Cambridge where they finally settled.
Wednesday. the. 14th.1941
My Dearest and Best, x.x.x.x.x.x..
Just a few hurried lines, to day
we are alright, although we have had a hectic time here to-day. Jerry has ben over all day, doing his stuff properly, and had quite a scare about 2.30 after the siren had gone, still sat on here carrying on, all at once he skimmed the roof tops, machine gunning all he was worth.
He's dropped three bombs in the town again, and we have heard that he has been shot down a little way out. Phew!!!! talk about getting hot and bothered wasn't it. Hope you had a quiet night in London. The weather is one of those dull depressing days, trying awfully hard to rain but does not even wet the pavement. Had a letter from Gidd this morning and she is looking forward to seeing me on the 24th, and wonders if ther's a chance of your getting down too for a long weekend. By the way RWB says what an awful time they have had in London, the worst ever, he says. Jerrys has compleatly gone he told me, and all our trade in the city has ceased to function with the exception of Bradburys. Its ghastly and no mistake.
We are alright in London, but every window and frame has been blown to blazes. By the way, I mentioned to Arthur Smith about the travelling facilities for the wives of men in the forces, and he says they would only be issued to me if I were travelling to London to see you or any other camp where you may be stationed, and they would not be issued in a general way for use.
Anyway, perhaps you could find something very definiate about that. Really, on the face of it, it seems that travelling to see husbands in their respective camps would be the only logical thing for them to do, otherwise with some of the wifes they would be charged up with no end of expenses,
Well, darling, its five o'clck again,- really the time flies in every sense of the word. I do hope you are keeping alright, and will not have to go to Cardington.
Wish they would re-open Hatfield. Still, thats too much to hope for I suppose.
Well, cheerio, sweetheart, I haven't any news for you, and the time is getting on, but just thought I would drop these few lines.
All the best of love and hugs and thoughts,
Always your own,
This is my great uncle arthurs wife Violet. They lived in Oxford road in Cambridge. This is a picture taken on a day out at Histon.
Cambridgeshire Community Archives
My great Uncle Arthur standing in the back garden of the house in Oxford Road, Cambridge
Cambridge Community Archives
About Michelle's Archives
This is a blog page for the archives in Michelle's own collection. It includes many of Michelle's personal family archives, tales and scrapbook items to all kinds of general archive items mainly from around Cambridge and East Anglia but some even more further afield. Search for items or subjects of interest under the categories below, by date or keyword, name or place etc. Any problems finding something or if you've any questions or comments please do get in touch by using the 'Contact' page on this website.
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