DIY History | Transcribe | World War II Diaries and Letters | Helen Fox Angell letters to Bess Peebles Fox, July 1944-April 1945 | 1944-10-19 Helen Fox to Bess Peebles Fox Page 1

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Helen Fox Angell letters to Bess Peebles Fox, July 1944-April 1945

1944-10-19 Helen Fox to Bess Peebles Fox Page 1

Pictures -
H.F. in front of Princetown church on Dartmoor - Jay is background
Jay on bicycle path near here - Note sidewalk, bicycle path & highway.
View from moors above Plymouth
Jay & HF eating cake on Dartmoor
October 19, 1944
Dear Mother,
Be prepared to endure a whole series of upside down envelopes, because I addressed a chunk of them just now and more than half of them were turned wrong.
I had such fun Tuesday night and Wednesday. Jay and I took a bus and went to visit the lady she met who lives in the Cotswolds. She lives very near Minster Lovell, which is the quaintest thatched village you can imagine and equipped with a ruined castle, a 15th century church and a small, swift river called the Windrush. We had to eat a second dinner when we got there, which almost foundered us, but we came through nobly, eyes glazed and buttons popping, but still conscious. When we stepped off the bus into the dark and rain two very nice girls met us and escorted us up the long avenue to Whitehall, the estate house when Mrs. [Brodtman?] lives. It is large, with several lodges and cottages, stables, servants quarters, garages and formal gardens. Even greenhouses full of grapes. We had a roast chicken dinner and ended with hot mince pie and then coffee, apples and nuts by the drawing room fire. There were the two other guests for dinner, Mrs. Busby, who lives in one of the cottages and Sybil Williams, an outdoorsy

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Pictures - H.F. in front of Princetown church on Dartmoor - Jay is background Jay on bicycle path near here - Note sidewalk, bicycle path & highway. View from moors above Plymouth Jay & HF eating cake on Dartmoor October 19, 1944 Dear Mother, Be prepared to endure a whole series of upside down envelopes, because I addressed a chunk of them just now and more than half of them were turned wrong. I had such fun Tuesday night and Wednesday. Jay and I took a bus and went to visit the lady she met who lives in the Cotswolds. She lives very near Minster Lovell, which is the quaintest thatched village you can imagine and equipped with a ruined castle, a 15th century church and a small, swift river called the Windrush. We had to eat a second dinner when we got there, which almost foundered us, but we came through nobly, eyes glazed and buttons popping, but still conscious. When we stepped off the bus into the dark and rain two very nice girls met us and escorted us up the long avenue to Whitehall, the estate house when Mrs. [Brodtman?] lives. It is large, with several lodges and cottages, stables, servants quarters, garages and formal gardens. Even greenhouses full of grapes. We had a roast chicken dinner and ended with hot mince pie and then coffee, apples and nuts by the drawing room fire. There were the two other guests for dinner, Mrs. Busby, who lives in one of the cottages and Sybil Williams, an outdoorsy