Pat's Diary - Part 5 Nov - Dec 1940

Friday November 1st 1940
Dear Diary
Today is the first of November, it's just a little less than two months to Xmas.
No news, so as to speak, only that on Monday I'm going into DJs to find a position. So now I'll be a working girl.
Composed a poem, "Down By the Billabong", today and am sending it to S tomorrow. My finger is bad again, that's the fourth time this year. (previously jammed finger in car door? Destroyed nail-bed)
No more news tonight. Yours, Pat Pyne

November 11th 1940
Armistice Day
Dear Diary
Tonight I came home with my first pay, tightly clutched in a little envelope. I brought Mummy a box of chocs to celebrate the occasion. When Mr Burns handed out the envelope to me, he thought he was just giving one of the shop girls their pay, but as I'm not typed as "they", & I am an individual, he was very much mistaken.
I have only 11/- bob left out of my pay. 3/11 next week's ticket, & a pair of stockings tomorrow about 2/11.
Yours, Patricia

November 24th Sunday Morn
Dear Diary
On Tuesday I shall be working three weeks.

December 1st 1940 Sunday
Dear Diary
Just two years today since dear Grandma Furner passed away. I don't know if the others remembered the date, (I think Mummy did) but the very first thing that came into my head this morning was that.
Outside the rain is just Sweeping down in bucketfuls. It's Teeming.
Today the Avenells arrived from Kempsey, and dear little Tric is with us tonight. At present she is sound asleep with her mouth open wide & two big teeth peeping through. She's such a sweet little kid. I'd love a little girl like her, just seven, but oh so wise. Her eyes are brownest brown & her lashes terribly long.
On Tuesday next I shall have been working a month. It doesn't seem that long, and yet it seems as though I've always been there.
Only about three weeks next Wed to Xmas. I'm going shopping next week & going to spend about 10/- on presents. I've never before had that much to myself. I was contemplating buying dad a shaving set, I don't know what to buy Mummy.
My poem "Australia Fair" was published in "Woman" 18th Nov. They have discontinued the children's page now, so I'm going to write to the Herald.
I saw Eunice yesterday. Oh she has changed!
Dad killed one of my chickens last Sunday. That's the first one to go. I'm going to keep the smallest white rooster. I do hope they'll be alright tonight, as the rain is simply terrific. The first Mate's wife has just had her third lot of children, four this time.
Well, I hadn't written for almost a month, it won't be long until the next time I write.
Patricia Ann Pyne, age 15 years & 10 months

December 7th 1940
Saturday Night 9:30
Dear Diary
The days seem to slip by like the leaves off a tree in Autumn lately. On Wednesday I went shopping & did some of my Xmas shopping. I still have two to get. Next Tuesday I shall have been working 5 weeks.
Yesterday I heard the March of soldiers & airmen. Uncle John was in it. I'm going to make him some socks after Xmas.
I'm going to have my photo taken on Wednesday. Until then, Patricia Ann

New Year's Eve Tuesday Night December 31st 1940
Dear Diary
Tonight is New Year's Eve. Tomorrow will usher in a new day, as well as a brand new year. This year, which will fade out tonight, has been a good year. The Government have made ready plans for Wartime duties, and has done a good deal of work for the war.
I have succeeded well with my literary efforts during the year and had 10 poems published as well as several stories.
Christmas has come & gone, for another whole year. We had a jolly Xmas. Dad & Mummy gave me a lovely white handbag.
Yesterday I received a card & letter from a Lonely Soldier in Palestine. He wants me to write to him, so I'm going to.
Harold Moore sent me such a lovely box of handkerchiefs for Xmas.
All the girls at work are going out to celebrate the new year, but none for me, I'm sailing to bed.

I thought this letter was rather touching. A girl at work said to me, "I should imagine that this place would take all the poetry out of you," and it has really. I never have time to write or I'm either too tired. I've been working nearly 9 weeks. 9 weeks today. Today I bought a lovely pair of white shoes with a wall toe & rather high heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pat's Diary - Part 4 October 1940

Three days later
October 3rd 1940 Thursday
Dear Diary,
I do wish my little mummy would get well. She is so sick, and the doctor, to point the seriousness of it, was contemplating in sending her to hospital. Oh I do wish God would let her get well. I'd even promise to be a nun, if only Mummy could have always health.
Today Poppy gave me the sixteen shillings he owed me with one shilling interest. Poor little thing, he's not so very rich himself.
Today Matilda laid the first egg in the new fowl run. Marye the Black Gynn now has laid 7 eggs in 10 days in her outside nest. I do love my little lot of poultry.
Tomorrow Aunty Olive is taking me to see aunt and Lilliput Mansion. I'm going to wear my costume & a new frill blouse, so I'm going to pray that it will be warm.

Eight hour day
Monday 7th 1940
Dear Diary,
Today is the least public holiday to Xmas and now today is over. It's been a most glorious day, on the River in a boat for Peggy & I & three of the girls from her work. Laugh! I don't think I've laughed so much in all my life. Betty the gingerhead fell headfirst into the river. I just saw feet disappearing over the edge. We took it in turns to row there, but coming back, two young boys towed us kindly to the boatshed. In all it was a splendid day, and I ended up getting terribly sunburnt.
On Friday my D.O.S certificate came to hand. It's a beautiful one with dark engravings and my name written in ticket writing.
Also went to the Australia Day display in town. Everyone said I looked OK in my costume.

Glenayr, Roseville
October 8th 1940
Dear Diary,
"The Flowers that bloom in the Spring" tra la. I feel as gay as a giddy lamb. Today whizzed by like a merry go round on edge. I hardly had time to sit down It always goes fast when one is working, & anyway I couldn't sit down if I wanted to, I'm so sore from yesterday.
There is a lovely new song out about the diggers leaving Australia. One of the lines as follows: "And the fields of waving corn"
I liked that that. I haven't had an inspiration for ages.
Today a young girl at Willoughby was murdered in her bed. The street she lived in starts six or seven streets up from us. She was only 16. I'm not going to sleep on the verandah any more.
Today I wrote to Eunice & asked her to come down on Sunday.
Well no more news has Yours Truly, Patricia

(Aunty Olive & Mummy PHOTO)
Thursday October 10th
Dear Diary,
Yesterday I posted the letter to Eunice and she rang last night. It was good to hear her again. She joined the VADs but is leaving again. She also had her hair done like mine. She is coming down on Sunday.
Today I received my certificates cancelled from "Woman". I suppose the book will follow tomorrow. I'm going to turn over a new leaf right now, and no-one will know me. I might even be a nun, but I'll have to think that over because nuns have to get up even in Winter at five o'clock, and if there's one thing I do like in Winter, it's my bed.
I do wish Mummy would get well. I'd willingly give my life for her to be always well, strong and happy.

Monday 14th 1940
Dear Diary,
Received book "Anne's House of Dreams" on Saturday. Princess Elizabeth made her first broadcast today. She spoke very nicely, slowly and clearly, and didn't sound a bit nervous. It was lovely to hear her.
On Saturday we saw "Under Two Flags", an old revival with beautiful Ronald Coleman. I really must see "Gone With the Wind".
Tomorrow I am going in with Muz & Fuz for the Farmers exray.

A week later
Sunday 20 October 1940
Dear Diary,
Tonight the wind is howling outside and at times the rain beats heavily on the pane. The only reason I want it to stop is because the hen house isn't too strong and liable to collapse any moment.
Today I composed a poem five verses long, entitled "Two Songs". The Song of Peace & the Song of War. I am sending it to Sunbeams tomorrow.
All weekend I've had a wretched cold in the head, and it made me terribly miserable. Mummy had one too. I've had two wretched nights. I can't breathe because of the cold, and so therefore can't get to sleep.

At my little attic window
Friday 25th 1940
Dear Diary,
And so another day has passed! On Wednesday I missed a position by one inch. A girl was wanted for a frock salon, so Miss Pyne (me) applied at 11, which was a few hours too late. But oh she was such a nice woman, the Manager, she said she would have taken me had I gone earlier. She was very taken with me, but she had engaged a a girl earlier that morning. So I finished my day at the theatre.
Another batch of evacuees arrived in Sydney yesterday, 39 in all, poor little kids! I'm glad we don't live in England.
Mummy is not quite well yet, and in some ways I'm glad I didn't get the position. I've still got a wretched cold, it's just as bad.
There is a light breeze blowing in through my curtained windows & fanning my face as I sit here, with the whole of my youth behind me, and a future in front. Around the bend, I like that phrase, but what is around the bend? Perhaps wealth & unhappiness, perhaps joy & sorrow, or maybe a long life & happiness. You never can tell, and so we must live a day at a time, until we can turn the bend.
I must end my light romantic dreams. No doubt you will smile as you read this, but at times it is a luxury to fly with your thoughts into swifter & wider channels. I must away now as my candle has just burned away (the candle of my thoughts).
So Avious (sic) until next tome, A very tired Miss Pyne, Patricia

Pat's Diary - Part 3 late September 1940

Glenayr Wednesday September 25th 1940
Dear Diary,
I am of a most undecided mind. I want to go to work and I want to stay home with mummy. I don't know what to do, I'm torn between. If I did go to work mummy would have to do the washing and work in the house and she's not at all well, she has a terrible pain all the time in her side. What will I do?
On Sunday my story was published in "Sunbeams". I won a purple certificate for it, and now I will get 10/- for all of them when I write in.
Today I found to my great delight, that my chook Mary, the Black Gin laid her very first egg. It's only a very small brown one, which was laid on a slope.
Bruce & Dorothy went for a ride early this morning on Bruce's two bikes, as far as Frenchs Forest.
Yesterday Darling Mummy was just in the act of cutting my hair, she had snipped one side, when I caught one horrifying glimpse of myself in the mirror. I refused to let Mummy cut another inch off me, so now one side is missing. I'll have to curl it up.

Sep 26th 1940
Dear Diary,
Today I applied for a job. I must get it. If God knew how much I wanted it he'd give it to me first shot, because I've been very good lately despite a few grumbles. As typiste, at one pound a week commence, & I'd work hard, oh if only I could get it. I've written out all the things I can buy with my money, for the next 10 weeks. Tonight I'm going to pray so hard.
Mummy is going to have Dyfimac(sic?) treatment for her pain. She's really very sick.
Mrs Gibson rang today, and I think that if she didn't take such an interest in my little chickens I would dislike her intensely. She refused to agree that Tite had a personality, she clasped her hand to her chest & laughted, "Oh Pat, you are funny", when I told her. I let my little chicks out now, they roam all day, & they're happy as the day is long.


September 29th
A very wet day, from my little attic window
Dear Diary,
At present the rain is teeming in bucketfuls down the pane. Today I am happy, for today I received the D.O.S. That is to be my title from now on. September has been the luckiest month I've ever had. I've had two poems published, one "The Lark" last Saturday, & "Elfin Piper" on the 6th. I've had three essays published & won a book, & now have enough certificates for ten shillings from Sunbeam. And a book from "Woman", and now I have the D.O.S.
It's simply teeming like one thing now, it hasn't stopped once since 12:30. Elaine & I raced up the back in raincoats & umbrella, to rescue the little chickens. They were shivering with cold & fright, for they've never seen rain like this before. Poor little things. We bundled them into their little box & covered it over, never stopped to count them. I hope I didn't leave one out, because I know it won't be alive when & if the rain ever stops. As soon as it does, I shall move the chickens coups into the fowl house & put some old clothes for the chicks to rest in, for I'm sure they must be wet though to the bone. You'd never ever believe how hard it is raining. Elaine, here for the weekend, will find it impossible to get home, methinks.
Elaine's Uncle is home on final leave.
I just can't believe I have won the D.O.S. It's a thing I've always dreamed of but never for once thought I'd ever have.

September 30th 1940
Monday. A very rainy night.
Dear Diary,
Today is the last day of September, and it certainly isn't what you'd call pleasant. It's blisteringly cold out o'doors, but I don't want to go out, I'm snugly tucked up in bed with a sand bottle at my feet, & by jove it is warm. It's raining heavily outside.
Today I waded out in the heavy rain to post my letter, or rather my certificates, to Peter. I asked him for either "Anne's House of Dreams" or "Magic for Marigold", delightful books by LM Montgomery. I doubt if I'll get any of them. I'll write my poem below,
Virgil Hope
"With marching feet & your head held high,
And a grim smile on your sunburnt face,
We know you'll go to do or die,
But not come back to a conquered race.
We watched you as you sailed away,
To fight for Life & Liberty,
We can but hope & wait & pray
Until you bring us Victory."

I'm all excited about my D.O.S certificate. It will probably come next week as the names are hand painted on each one. I'm a very tired Patricia Anne tonight, as I've had a very busy day. I wish I could like boys, but I can't. The only boys I do like are Poppy, Laurie Hinder, & someone I'm not mentioning. So unless my affections change, I'll remain
Widow Pyne (Patricia)

Clark Gable

Clark Gable & Jeannette McDonald