It is a long way between India and Yorkton, Saskatchewan.
During the war, there was really only one way to communicate with loved ones and that was through snail- mail, or what was known then as, postal services.
It was through letters, many, many letters that I kept in touch with Paula – and she with me.
The mail, however, was very unpredictable. Often, I would receive a dozen or so letters all at once. And sometimes, I would receive no letters at all.
The mail arrived every day. There was never any fixed time when it would come. It came by boat. We never knew when it arrived – but we all believed we had some sort of special mental telegraph as we could “tell” when the boat came.
Everyone rushed to the post office anxiously awaiting to hear news from home. Letters were very important and when they came – you’d feel elated. When they didn’t come you would feel pretty down.
The good thing was that all the letters came at the same time for everyone – so no one was really left out.
I saved my letters. But Paula, before we were married, burned hers. She often wished she had kept them as they were somewhat like National Geographic in that there were many times I wrote about India and Ceylon (Sri Lanka).
When the letters arrived I was over-joyed. But can you imagine answering 15 letters at once? I tried to sort them by date and answer the most recent ones first.
We could get recordings of the latest songs just s fast from Dumdum, India as we could get letters from Canada.
Imagine a Dumbum delivery service better than Canada’s postal service? I guess some things never change.