Wednesday morning 8 August 1945, Marks Hall

The nuclear bombing of Hiroshima, 6 August, 1945

Darling Margaret,
                           Your extremely exuberant letter arrived on Monday, to gladden me with its tidings of new dressing gowns, sweetly functioning kidneys, superannuation cheques and vacated coal cellars. I am very glad indeed to hear that Kate is so pleased with you: you seem to be in every way a model of expectant motherhood. I suppose that on your next visit she'll be giving you a thorough examination and I'm sure she will find everything quite satisfactory.

                         After our Sunday evening storm the weather turned distinctly cool here and in fact yesterday was rather a bleak day. I hope your good weather is continuing so that you may continue to enjoy the garden rather than be cooped up with your 'wally dugs' and highland cattle.

                        When you mentioned on Sunday the name of the teacher who is expected back to school, I am afraid I was very dumb not to recognise it. When I was visiting H.Q. Middle East in Feb. of last year, I found Alec Keith sustaining the dignity of a Squadron Leader in Signals and from him I got several whiskies and the information that our wing was on its way to Corsica. He is a very pleasant fellow. I don't quite understand why he is going back to Albert, as he had left us before the war to go to Jordanhill college.

                       Some of the papers this morning are forecasting a big acceleration in demobilisation. If this turns out to be true, I'll begin to have some doubts about the wisdom of coming out under Class B. If I received an offer within the next few weeks, I would accept. But the longer they delay, and the nearer my ordinary release comes, the more do I think on the financial advantages of coming out in the normal way. In fact I should not be surprised to see the Govt. scrubbing the whole class "B" scheme, as it has not been a great success.

                       The Bomb has thrown everyone into a Wellsian frenzy and the "Express" today obliges its readers with a diagram showing the "probable construction of the new bomb" - the last word in journalistic fatuousness. I find the discovery extremely depressing, even though it will undoubtedly shorten the Japanese War. If mankind can't avoid future wars, the only survivors will be a few Arabs in the centre of the desert or a happy dweller near the north pole.

                       Such a diabolical discovery will I think be another sad blow to conventional religion. The old "God moves in a mysterious way" gag has already been stretched to breaking point and I don't see how the doctrine of an external, omniscient, guiding presence can be made to include a man-made weapon of destruction which promises to make earthquakes, fires, floods and other "acts of God" look simply childish. The parsons will have to go back to Plato to learn how to see God in the recesses of Matter. Whitehead is very good on the necessity for a new theology and I think you should recommend his book to Jack Shelly.

                    Time is passing quite quickly these days and it will soon be a month since I left you. And in less than two months I should be seeing you and the offspring. You have always been a reasonably punctual person and I am expecting you to deliver the goods right on time. I suppose that the child gets increasingly active as the days pass, and by 27th Sept. it will probably be shouting at the pitch of its infant voice "Don't Fence me In".

                  My regards to the family ...


This blog has several fascinating entries on the demobilisation process and the bombing of Japan.

Wednesday 1 August 1945, Marks Hall

My darling girl,
                        Your plethora of corn plasters arrived today to my great and immediate relief. I had forgotten about the medicated variety which should enable me to get rid of the painful excrescence in a few days. Thanks very much for your promptness in actioning my request.

                         Your Sunday's letter, written after the phone call, got here yesterday morning which is quite speedy work. I am puzzled to know what you mean exactly by dismissing a brand of religion as being "too full of sweetness and light". Am I to understand that you dote on Calvinistic gloom or the wrathful mutterings of an Old Testament Jehovah? Or was the Welsh professor simply regarding the world through the usual ecclesiastical blinkers?

                       Yesterday I spent an afternoon at the coast - at Clacton and at a little place to the North of it called Holland-on-Sea. Our intention had been to bathe but though my two companions braved it, the leaden grey sea and the cold wind daunted me completely. For the past three years, bathing has been a pleasure that required no Spartan initiation and I just can't face the prospect of the icy paralysis and chattering teeth which are associated with the pastime in this country. I'll wait till I have you to shame me into it.

              What a dismal coast it is. Prestwick, Troon, Helensburgh and all our less esteemed resorts are queenly in comparison: of course the relics of coastal fortifications, the dilapidated entertainment buildings and the large gap in Clacton pier don't increase the impression of jollity. It was a real East coast day with very feeble sunshine and altogether I never saw a more miserable collection of holidaymakers. And it was for this that they stood in all night queues in London stations and paid the exorbitant boarding house charges.

              On our way back we stopped at a tearoom run by an old dame with sentimental leanings to the R.A.F. who gave three of us a magnificent tea in the garden at an all-in charge of 4/2d. It was a pleasant outing and I take any opportunity that's going of getting out of Marks Hall for a few hours.

             I am filling my days with routine work at my own job, occasional dull E.V.T*. lectures, reading history, and summarising bits of Whitehead's book Adventures of Ideas. This is very heavy going but it has some very useful stuff in it. And of course we all do daily speculation drill on the probable date of our release.

            I had a composite dream last night in which some sequences showed me back at school again and other featured you dandling a very respectable infant (a boy as far as I could see!), so future time seems to be pressing heavily on my spacio-temporal subconsciousness. Let us hope such bliss is just around the next fourth-dimensional corner.

            It is to be hoped the weather at HIllfoot is warmer than we are having now or you won't do much lounging out of doors. Judging by your list of intending visitors you are not going to be lonely at all events. I wish I was one of them, but I am better to wait until I can see what you have been hiding sub-smock. As a result of my dream, I think you had better sound the family on their reactions to the use of Stewart as a Christian name! [Stewart was M.F.'s maiden name]


          Look after yourself darling and take a big hug from me - with no unkindly emphasis on the big ...
                       

* The only explanation that I can find of the acronym E.V.T. is that it stands for the Finnish phrase meaning "How am I supposed to know...?"

Monday 30 July 1945, Marks Hall

My darling,
                 Your letter of last Friday arrived as expected, this morning. I am extremely sorry to have missed the political shindy in which Uncle Doad took on the rest. The silly talk you mention has even been paralleled here and, I suppose, everywhere that people are talking politics. Of course in a month or two all these scares will die down, but they are illuminating in showing just where fascists would find their support in Britain. It was the bitter prejudice against movement to the Left exhibited by the uninformed middle class wage-earner that gave Hitler his first general support and later caused the paralysis of France. It is a hopeful sign that political power is passing away from the class typified by Hyndland because their ignorance is woeful. Next time I am home I may be staying at Hyndland Road for a little (if you are still in Redlands) and I must do my best to convert your mother to Labour.

Map shows Hillfoot today

                You sounded very spry on the 'phone last night and your letter is very lively in its tone. The future can't be bothering you much when you are absent-mindedly making plans to go to the pictures just about the time you should be "brought to bed of a fine child" as they used to say. A restful period at Hillfoot* should put you in fine battle form for what you  quaintly call D-day.

               From now on I'll telephone from the office, always at the weekend and whenever possible on a  Sunday evening. I don't suppose you'll be out late any night nowadays. Under a new arrangement we can use the office phones for private calls after 5.30pm and the cost is added to your Mess Bill. If you should ever urgently need to get a message to me, the office number is Colchester 4249, Extension 61. The odds are four to one against my being on duty at the time but there is always someone there who could take a message for me - even if the message was only to telephone you as soon as possible.

               I see in today's newspaper the comforting assurance that teachers released under Class B are allowed to go back to their old jobs. But this item is still of only theoretic interest since since I have not yet heard of any lucky pedagogues being set free.

              Bottling your surplus plums is a very good idea as they seem to retain the virtues of fresh fruit in this way. Also, I believe you can make small quantities of jam with bottled plums later, if we manage to scrape together a few grains of sugar.

             I have been back here for a fortnight now so time is going past fairly well. I'll soon be anticipating my next leave even though it will plunge me headlong into paternity. I hope C.M. will have the good sense to grow up exactly like her mother. I'm sure that when she finds out that the exterior is as charming as the interior was comfortable, she'll love you almost as much as I do.

            Look after yourself, my love ....


*This quiet village to the NW of Glasgow was presumably much less built-up than it is now. I don't know what family connection let MF go there for a 'holiday'.

Friday 27 July 1945, Marks Hall

Margaret dearest,
                         I am fortunate enough to have two letters to acknowledge, written last Monday and Wednesday. Both record very high spirits, with heartburn diminuendo which pleases me greatly. Your account of a pleasant walk in the dusk with Irene [MF's sister] made me think for a moment that you could no longer face the open eye of day but I was reassured to hear of Grace's [a friend, already referred to in an earlier letter]  expression of wonder at your continued trimness!

                      The weather here broke last night with a rattling thunderstorm and today is much cooler. I hope you get some decent weather at Hillfoot so that you can find some benefit in the garden. You'll be able to have pleasant walks at the cooler periods of the day and laze about outside when it is warm. If there are any garden chairs, beware of the beastly things and see that they don't deposit you on the ground or nip off your fingers as they collapse.

                     The election result has I think astonished most people and the new P.M. more than anyone. The result will I think be popular in the Forces especially among the ranks. People holding numerous stocks and shares are very gloomy over the falling prices and I'm glad I have no money in coal mines or railways. The Labour Party has a great chance now to make its long-promised onslaught on monopolies and reactionary elements in heavy industry. I expect that the monied interests will try to engineer a financial crisis to discredit the new Govt. and a lot will depend on the speed with which it can get going.

                     The very heavy defeat of the Tories was I think due to Churchill's ridiculously vulgar election tactics and the antics of Beaverbrook. The Daily Express today makes amusing reading and I expect the Mail and other Tory rags are equally lugubrious.

                      For the consolation of your mother, your sisters, Mr Goodall and any other bereaved Tories, you can point out that the Labour members contain a much higher proposition of professional men and minor landed gentry than ever before so I don't suppose the tumbrils will be too busy just yet. Though Jean [another sister], with her ability to knit, talk and watch at the same time would spend many enjoyable hours at the guillotine.

                      Your family's intention of buying the pram is kindly but ridiculous and please don't entertain the idea.

                      I am suffering at the moment from an unpleasant corn due to tramping about in the heat. Do you think you could send me a box of these little oval gummed rings which we used to find rather relieving?

                     David is having an unpleasant time with woolly bears and Welsh nurses prowling about his underwear. I know which will be the most difficult to eradicate. The Stewarts seem to have a weakness for the Principality. How does your mother fancy a daughter-in-law from the Dowlahs? [sic: probably miss-spelling of Dowlais] 


                    I'm going to tea now so cheerio for the present. I'll try to phone on Sunday and hope I'm successful.

......

P.S. I enclose a cheque for telephone bill and cornpads. It may also pay for your taxi.

Tuesday 24th July 1945, Mark's Hall

Darling Margaret,
                          As I said last night, something appears to have happened to the telephone system in these parts. On Sunday night when I tried to 'phone at the usual time, I was told that there would be two hours' delay, and last night I had to book my call and wait nearly an hour for it to mature. I believe that trouble was caused by a violent electrical storm which they had down here just before I returned. It put several main lines out of action and may still be causing delays.

                         So on future Sundays, don't be disappointed if I can't call you, and don't on any account sit up past eleven o'clock. I'll always try to get my call through before that hour.

                         I'm sorry to hear my letters are taking such a long time to reach you. Yours aren't so bad and your Friday edition arrived here yesterday morning. I'm sorry to hear that your weakness for pickled herring has again mastered you, and sorrier still to see you emasculating Shakespeare in your description of their after-effects. Can you imagine Sir Toby Belch saying 'Fie on those pickled herrings'? Anyone would think you had been brought up on Bowdler.

                       I am sure you can safely leave to your family the buying of a super-sprung, ball-born perambulator. It will save you any more exhausting visits to town. Thanks for fixing Mr Meikle; he is really very obliging and has been extremely useful to us, or rather to me, for I don't suppose you'll dote on the "Social History".

                      I'd like to visit Mary Goodall [school friend of MF] for a few days but I'm rather unwilling to leave the unit just now. There are all sorts of rumours of moves and moreover if anything did happen about Class B, I want to be here to look after my interests. I'll write her a letter explaining my difficulties.

Clement Attlee, the P.M.

                          As you remark, the newspapers are quite unhelpful about demobilisation and it is obvious that they know nothing about it. I should not be surprised if the new Govt. attempted to popularise itself by accelerating releases but meanwhile I am reconciling myself to another six months at least of service life.

                          I have not heard from Annie Jutson [a former pupil who excelled in English] for a long time. A very probable explanation is that I did not reply to her last letter. As a correspondent I get lazier every day and soon I'll have to reply to all my outstanding letters by an announcement in the personal column of the Times. I've nothing to say to anyone but you and that's the God's truth.

                          The demands of personal hygiene compel me now to go for a bath. It is grand to hear that you are keeping so well and I hope you have a very restful time at your Hillfoot residence. You have better take some of the classic with you so that you and your mother don't run out of reading matter. Look after yourself ....

Thursday 19th July 1945, Marks Hall

My sweetheart,
                       Your welcome letter of last Tuesday arrived by this evening's post and I hope that by this time you have received my last letter. I'm glad to hear of your freedom from heartburn: it really does look as if my gluttony is indirectly the cause of your sufferings.

                       The weather has been extremely hot since I returned, with none of the relieving showers which the rest of the country seems to be getting. This afternoon I spent a drowsy hour sitting, with a few others equally somnolent, in the shade of the trees while an officer droned on about the history of trade unionism. This is part of the E.V.T. scheme which is now in operation. It is difficult to see the value of this kind of desultory education and the meetings seem to be popular with the airmen only because they are held during working hours. I learned nothing but a new sympathy for the numerous classes that I have bored with the same subject on many a hot summer afternoon.

                        As you remark, the newspapers are once again on the rampage about demobilisation but today's statement today's statement by the Ministry of Labour seems as vague and as complacent as ever. I'm afraid the whole business is a colossal muddle. After 2½ months of peace in Europe the only man who seems to have been demobbed in this place is one old fellow who would probably have died anyway if they hadn't got him out in time. Class B seems to be particularly chaotic and the official unwillingness to reveal the numbers released under this category seems to indicate that they were very few. Of course for a man like a bricklayer who is liable to be sent anywhere in the country, Class B release has nothing to recommend it. I presume that if teachers are taken out they can go back to their old employers: if not, they can put the scheme where the monkey put the nuts as far as I'm concerned. But with superannuation and other difficulties I don't see how the Ministry of Labour could 'direct' teachers to anything but their former jobs.

                        Meanwhile no-one knows anything about it and I'm hoping Mr Barclay can find some information for me.

                        I've got my new issue of service clothing coupons but there is nothing I want to buy at present. A propos of a dressing gown, I doubt if I could buy one even with the "special" coupons; such an article is certainly not listed with the non-military attire for which the special coupons are to be used.

                      Your injunction not to work too hard is funnier than you could possibly imagine. I have plenty of leisure and when the weather is less oppressive I hope to do quite a lot of serious reading. Very few people are busy these days in the services and it is the dreary prospect of lengthy inactivity that dismays most people.

                      Thanks for writing to Mr Meikle about Trevelyan: I am informed by one History teacher that there is doing to be a fairly large reprinting in the autumn, so perhaps I'll get a copy then. Everyone who has seen it says it is very well worth having.

                      I have had one night at Coggeshall and a very temperate one at that. The beer is undrinkable these days since none of the pubs has the means of keeping it down to the proper temperature. So you'll be gratified to know that most of my drinks are of the S.D.I. variety these sweltering days.

                      I am looking forward to hearing you on Sunday evening. Till then, my own darling, I hope you continue to enjoy our placid life. You are certainly looking well on it and I was greatly reassured by your radiant appearance. Take care of your self.

Thursday 8 March 1945, Marks Hall

My sweetheart
                       I am generally expecting your letters, but I was pleasantly surprised this morning by yours of the 6th, full of interesting details about Redlands. It seems surprisingly cheap having a baby there (by the way, do they double the charges if it should prove to be twins?) and I hope it is in no way inferior to a nursing home. Have any of your friends been there?

                       By all means keep as much of that money as you like, in the current account. And any bills that you don't feel like tackling in the next few weeks, just send on to me. There is no need for you to deny yourself anything. Thanks to the incredible dullness of life on this station I am spending very little, so there is no reason why our offspring should not be born with a silver spoon in her or his mouth, even though we may have to pawn it in later years. Some time next month I'll make arrangements for increasing the monthly transfer.

                      I'm glad the 'Companion' [to English Lit.] has arrived. It was decent of Mr Meikle to reduce the price though that did not enter my mind when we went to him. I'm sure it is a tome that will be very useful to me in teaching.

                    Your report on your health makes better reading now. I think you are wise to cut down your evening engagements and get some chair pressing hours in. The milk ration for 155 [Hyndland Road] sounds colossal: one would think some ancient Roman lady was using it for toilet purposes. Maybe I'll manage to get a few drinks when I'm on leave.

                   Another bundle of old letters arrived yesterday including one from you, one from your Pop and the famous epistle from my uncle.[Dan Gerrard, Minister of Fintry Cof S] So next time you phone Fintry you can tell him that his honour is vindicated. Your letter was written on 13th Nov. when you were in the middle of your bad cold and expecting me daily. I can see now that the long time I took to come home, coupled with the fact that my last letter before embarking never reached you, caused a long period of anxiety and suspense for you. However, all turned out for the best.

                                                                                                           After tea:

                   During tea time, the wireless was giving details of the debate in the Commons on this 5/- family allowance scheme. Some critics are complaining that it is too little to stop the decline in the birth rate. This talk about the falling birthrate always depresses me because of its implications. A country needs a large population only because firstly of recurrent wars and secondly cut-throat rivalry in trade. And if we are moving forward to an age of peace and economic cooperation it does not seem to matter if the population falls a bit. As for the other point in the debate, I suppose you as an ardent feminist are all out for the mother getting the five bob for her second child and not the brutal and selfish father.

                The news continues to be exciting and all the less serious newspapers are filled with speculations about the date of the final collapse of Germany. They are also putting forward all kinds of "authoritative" statements and beliefs held in "responsible circles" about the the government's demobilisation scheme. But the Govt. has not as yet indicated just to what extent demobilisation is going to be carried out on Germany's defeat. I can't help feeling that the period of waiting is going to be very boring. I have completely given up hope of teachers being taken out before their demob. group. Only the building trades seem to be getting preferential treatment.

              I am keeping very well ... Life continues to be very dull but because of that, time passes quickly enough in retrospect. I hope you are soon completely free from your morning disability: please continue to be as lazy as you can.

...

Note: This is the first of a number of letters that had been opened by the Censor and resealed with the label shown in the photo. It must have been an inhibiting process.

Wednesday 7 March, 1945, Marks Hall

My dear
             I intended to write yesterday but was kept busy all day. Your letter of Saturday arrived last night to cheer me up when my labours were over for the day. It's a find long letter too. I'll be keen to hear your opinion of the "Companion to Eng. Lit." As you know, we ordered it with a very vague notion of its contents. Thanks also for your promise to inquire about the etymological dictionary: I hope you don't object too much to these commissions.

             Your account of the children's party makes my blood run cold. Perhaps love of the young has still to unfold in my hard heart; let us hope it is latent there. But at present a little incident like the one you describe (in saying the grace) leaves me feeling very bleak.

            A letter from Lloyds today tells me that the £200 has now been transferred to your account. I don't know how they contrive to do it so quickly. I like to think of a special messenger hurrying north with my £200 in his bag, but I don't suppose the process is so dramatic. Anyway, use it as you please.

            On Monday night I went with two other (Griffiths and Taylor) to Colchester. We saw a long picture programme comprising Dark Waters and History is made at night. The first was dreadful, with Merle Oberon, looking very haggard, wandering incessantly in swampy forests. The second, with Jean Arthur and your old pal Chas. Boyer, was amusing in spite of a wildly improbable plot. I did not see much of Colchester, but was not greatly impressed. The best thing of the evening was the hot supper dish which was awaiting us on our return to camp.

            I am continuing my study of Fowler. I confess to some surprise when I learned that "Should you like a bath?" is correct and the use of 'would' in such a sentence is a horrible solecism. Evidently in questions in the second person, shall, will, should or would are used according to the answer expected. Fowler confesses that only the Southern English use there words naturally in the correct way, and that the rules governing their use are so involved that other speakers find them impossible to understand. So it seems that we must continue to give forth barbarisms.

           One of our cypher officers got himself into a fine state of agitation last week. All mail from his wife suddenly stopped and frantic letters from him produced no reply. He considered every morbid explanation from illness to sudden death or an American. Yesterday, while scanning the Mess table in despair, he noticed a great pile of letters in a docket which had been allocated to him ten days ago without his noticing it. Now he is wondering what his wife will make of the letters he has been pouring out these last few days.

            My next leave will definitely not be before the beginning of May so you won't have to make any special arrangements with the Corp. on my behalf. You'll be a "lady" by then and no longer a school teacher. I'm sure you must be looking forward to the rest. I am glad to hear that the holidays you took on my behalf have proved less expensive than was expected, though like you I can't understand the Corporation accounting in this case.

            You are extremely reticent about people's reactions to your intersting condition. Was Miss McLean overcome with shyness? How many of your dear friends have you told yet? Have you warned the school that they'll be losing you soon? I'm sure you are a most unnatural creature to fill your letters with Beethoven concerts at a time like this!

              I'm charmed to learn that you are now getting stuck into the mild and eggs. I warn ou that I expect to find you in overwhelmingly radiant health when I see you next - something like a Sanatogen advertisement figure, though not quite so amorphously dressed.

             You sounded quite chirpy last Sunday in spite of the fact that I surprised you in undress. I find these pleasant Sunday conversations come round very quickly: the weeks are slipping past in an admirable fashion. I keep my eyes fixed on my next leave and, at some unknown distance beyond that, my exit from the RAF. And after that, an endless paradise with you. ...

Saturday 3 March 1945, Marks Hall

My darling,
                The letter that I expected this morning came, rather unusually, by the evening post. I'm glad you have received all the extra coupons and though I understand your diffidence about letting shopkeepers into the secret at such an early date, I hope you won't let anything prevent you from demanding and devouring every extra that you are entitled to. It is really a very good thing that the state should supervise women's nourishment at that time and I hope the plan remains after the war.

                 I didn't really mean to wander from your interesting condition into politics. Excuse the diversion. You have not given me any details of the reservation of a bed and I am thirsty for knowledge. Did you visit the place and pick a particular bed or did they send a prospectus offering different qualities of bed and emphasising the social status of your neighbours on their more select sites? I must know all about it and will not be put off by any wifely secrecy.

                This morning's post brought the bank statement which you forwarded. It makes plaeant reading, for a long-expected adjustment of my F/Lt pay has at last caught me up and the result is a lump sum of £60. Also the balance of my Mediterranean pay book (£140) has at last got into my bank account so that my credit is now £446. This is too hight for a current account so I propose to send a letter to Lloyds instructing them to pay in £200 to your account at the Union Bank. Out of that I want you to take anything you require for your immediate or future needs and put the rest into the bottom compartment of the steel safe. I don't know how many certificates I hold, but in making your calculations don't forget the small number in my old book. These I will definitely cash the next time I'm home on leave.

                I'll write to Lloyds tomorrow and the actual transfer should take about a week. So you can ask at the Union Bank in about 10 days time. When you have completed the business, pleas send me the following data (a) the number of my Savings Cert. Book (b) how many certificates I hold in all (c) how many you hold. I am sorry to worry you with financial business but one's money keeps piling up in the most tiresome way. And once again, don't hesitate to take whatever you want out of the sum I'm transferring. You are such a strangely proud little so-and-so that I have to emphasise this in a most unseemly way.

              The war is going beautifully just now and Germany is obviously "ripe for shaking". Monty seems to have brought off another of his classic right hooks with the American 9th Army. The final showdown is going to be terrific and I don't think it will last very long since the Russians will obviously be going again by that time. Germany must crumple up if she has to face two major offensives conducted simultaneously on her own soil while the Allied air forces are wrecking her interior lines of communication.

(Sunday morning)
                  Once again work interfered with my letter-writing last night. This morning it is very cold but beautifully clear. We have had a succession of cold bright days here. Yesterday I went for another walk and went quite a reasonable distance. .....

                I hope you are telling me the absolute truth when you say that you feel fine during the day. I'm glad you say that you are going to throw up your job just as soon as you feel like it, without considering anyone else. I am already looking forward to fussing over you during my next leave - and it's only about eight weeks away now, if all goes well.

                I must write also to the bank before the post goes. Give my regards to everyone at 155 [Hyndland Road] ...

              

                

Wednesday 28 February 1945, Marks Hall

My darling,
                 A pleasant mail today consisting of your letter of Monday and Merchant Adventurers. The latter has taken some time to come but is in perfect condition. I have already read half of it. Did you realise that you had given one side the quaint address "RAF Officers' Mess near Colchester Essex"? On the other side you had fortunately remembered to put Marks Hall also.

                Thank Jean for her sciatica expert. I'll enter his name in my tablets but don't think it will be necessary to consult him this time. My leg continues its slow improvement and yesterday evening I went a short walk which I enjoyed. I think I'll probably do quite a lot of walking round here in the spring.

                We have already started to arrange our roster for the next leave period. I have put my name down for the beginning of May, with a period at the end of April as an alternative. So if things go to plan, we'll be able to celebrate together your exit from the teaching profession. Your next teaching job will be a purely amateur one and you should have the advantage of a very intelligent pupil!

                I'm glad you have arranged about the bookcase. It is badly needed and will enhance the appearance of our drawing room. Do you think that when he is at 66 [Novar Drive], you could sound him as to the possibilities of that mahogany table in the dark room? There is no need to do anything about it just now; that will be impossible till I can arrange a new dark room elsewhere. But it would be interesting to hear what he says.

               Don't do anything about these Plumier photographs at present. I think I'll wait till the censorship regulations are less strict. After all, it should not be very long now before some of the amenities of peacetime are restored.

              I have fallen into a routing of doing a few hours' work for the future during my spells off duty. My present study is Fowlers King's English. It is interesting to see what changes have occurred since the book was published in 1906. Some of the words which he singles out as neologisms at that time certainly don't suggest their recent origins nowadays eg racial. While one can't hope to follow his precepts, one is forced to admire his beautiful discrimination. A study of many of his extracts from the respectable journals at that time suggests that the standard of writing in decent newspapers has gone up greatly in recent years. On the other hand colloquial language is infinitely more slangy.

             Is there any word yet of the Oxford Companion to English Literature? Next time you are speaking to Mr Meikle, will you enquire about Skeats Etymological English Dictionary? I think there is one published by Oxford at about 8/- and if so, I should like that also. That postal order which you probably haven't cashed yet will pay for it!

           Since the last paragraph I have come off duty and retired to my little tin hut. It is a lovely night, as mild as if in summer. It has really been astonishing here since I returned from leave, and quite unseasonably warm. Every tree round our hut seems to have an owl living in it and tonight they are giving a fine querulous concert. It's a mournful sound but not unpleasant.

            I've just been recollecting that a year ago tonight I was camped near Baalbek on the first stage of our long journey to Cairo. Home seemed very remote, with no prospect of getting mail till we reached our destination. Surely by another year I'll be doing all my reminiscing at my own fireside while you doubtless recount the Prodigy's exploits of the day.

            My tin of water on top of the stove is beginning to sing quietly so I must have a wash and so to bed. I hope the decrease in your morning malaise continues. Please continue to look after yourself and fill your day with taking milk, orange juice, halibut oil and vitamin A & B tablets. Thanks to informative panels in the daily press, I am as well informed of your duties as you can possibly be. Look after yourself with the most complete selfishness. It's justified at this time.

...
            

Tuesday 27 February 1945, Mark's Hall

Thurber drawing

My darling,
                  It is now 11.30am and I have just got out of bed. I was on night watch and had a fair amount to do, so when I came off duty I had a couple of hours' rest. I intend to finish this in time to catch the one o'clock post.

                 We have been quite busy recently and it makes a pleasant change. I hope this continues. Meanwhile the was shows signs of interesting developments. From this morning's news it seems as if the German resistance is rather feeble in some parts and Cologne (or its remains) should be under shellfire soon.

                Your letter of Feb. 24th arrived yesterday. The news of your being sick after getting back from the panto is worrying. I've never heard of anyone being literally sick with laughter before. Also on Sunday you said you were feeling tired o'nights. Both these facts compel me to reiterate that you must give up school at once if these symptoms continue. Why should you struggle with fatigue at night and sickness in the morning, when you could be coddling yourself at home? Of course this may be a mere passing phase and you may enter into a period of blooming health, but darling, please be guided by your own feelings and don't let any ridiculous motives keep dragging you out to school. As I said before, you have done far more than your share of hard work and deserve a little leisure now. I'll be enormously pleased when I get a letter telling me that you have told the Corp. to put their job where the monkey put the nuts.

                 My reading just now - God help me - is Naomi Jacob's Private Gollantz. It's complete rubbish. I can['t] stand her intense, arty and perfectly humourless Jews. I have also been reading Parody Party which contains some clever and cruel parodies of Chas Morgan, Dorothy Sayers, Somerset Maugham and others.

                 Thanks for sending on Blakeney's letter. It was a wild demand for an answer to his previous one. I am now wondering what happened to the previous letter I sent him since it also contained photographs. I think I had better write him an airletter explaining the whole position and asking him to make it clear to the Plumiers why they can't have any photos just now. I certainly don't feel like applying for an exporter's license and or whatever is needed merely to send half-a-dozen snaps.

                 I am having an awful time just now with Gee, the fellow in my hut whom I described before. He is a Thurber fan and when I confessed rashly enough that I don't think Thurber very funny he took my remark as some modern form of blasphemy and has been labouring hard for my conversion ever since. He leeps bringing in Thurber books and shoving them under my nose saying "Look at that - don't you think that's funny" and so on. I have to laugh sometimes - at him, for the drawings invariably throw him into hysterics. Tell me honestly, do you like Thurber's drawing? I'm getting really worried about myself.

               I'll need to stop now if I want to get this letter away today. .... Please look after yourself. Glad to hear you have completed the bed booking arrangements. All my love ...

Saturday 24 February 1945, Marks Hall

My darling spoufe,†
                             Congratulations on having your probable confirmed. I should have been rather surprised if Kate had decided otherwise as your symptoms seemed much too marked to be the product of suggestion only. I hope you are pleased: I know I am, but then my share in the business is short, pleasant and soon over. Probably once the initial malaise goes, you'll have quite a pleasant time being pampered by your mother. I only wish I were there also to make my ineffectual contributions to your wellbeing. I believe a husband always fusses around with cushions at these times.

                      Kate's "sitting up nicely" is an astonishing phrase to use about Caroline Mary who probably has go no very well defined bottom to sit on as yet. However, probably it simply means that the positioning is satisfactory from the medical point of view. And what less can be expected of an infant conceived with such energy and welcomed so promptly with cakes and ale!

                     See that you lead a life of gormandising complacency from now on and give up school whenever you feel like it, irrespective of what Kate says. You deserve a rest and I feel it is time I kept my wife for a change. And just in case your nasty wicked mind is flickering around the previous sentence, the emphasis is on the word "I" and not "wife".

                     How are the rest of the family taking Kate's annunciation? I'm glad Mrs B is pleased. I can imagine Irene giving a slightly scandalised "goodness me". You'll have one helluva time when you tell Bessie and had better be prepared for anything from a battery of short-arm jabs to a flood of tears.

                     After a lot of dull weather, today is fresh and bright. I should go for a walk, but I shall need to visit the library and then do some reading in the sun. If your father has already despatched Merchant Adventures, I'll be pleased to get it. I've been reading some more passages from the other books and they are really very good.

                     I'm sorry to hear Willie Skinner's death confirmed. He was a nice lad though pathetically unsure of himself. I wonder what inner compulsion made him volunteer for that dangerous branch, for he did not seem by nature the type for it. It is hard on his mother for Ian, though pleasant enough, is too lazily self-centred to be a mother's boy.

 ...........

                  It is three weeks tomorrow since I left to go on that lovely leave so by simple arithmetic is'ts only about 9 weeks till I'll be seeing you again(- DV, as Jean used to add). So time is passing quite quickly. Meanwhile the war seems to be slowly coming to a head  and the neutrals like Turkey obviously think the end is near. If by entering the war, *Turkey can open up the Black Sea route to Russia, David [Margaret's brother] may be left with little to do where he is.

                 I have been writing this with rather cold hands so please forgive he bad writing. I'll phone again late tomorrow evening. Meanwhile I must to lunch. ... I am so pleased that our second honeymoon is to be happily commemorated.

*Turkey remained neutral during most of World War II but entered on the side of the Allies on February 23, 1945, a day before this letter was written.
† Written thus to replicate the style of script found here.

Thursday 22 February 1945, Marks Hall

Mark's Hall from the air

My sweetheart
                     I hope I have got the day right this time. It says a good deal for the complete monotony of my life here that even with the assistance of newspapers I never know what day of the week it is.
                  
                    I have two letters of yours to acknowledge, dated 18th and 20th. How dare you develop a stye as soon as my back is turned. The sooner you are out of school and pampering yourself at home, the better. I hope the wretched thing has cleared up now.

                   I have been wondering about your visit to Kate yesterday. I very nearly phoned at night but decided you would not want to shout such intimacies over four hundred miles of wire. So I'll just have to wait patiently for another letter to tell me whether or not we are going into production this time.*

                   Thanks for sending me Annie's letter. Her last letter to me must still be wandering round the Med. She is full of enthusiasm for her job at the Girls' High and judging by the timetable she has been given, they seem to appreciate her value. I contemplate her career with some self-gratulation [sic] rare in me and I'm longing to meet her mother again and recall the embittered fights we had over Annie's future. [This was a former pupil whose mother wanted her to get a job rather than go to University] Genetically speaking that girl is a mystery - unless there was a mute inglorious Jutson among her more remote ancestors.

                 I'm still reading far too much and with a lack of discrimination imposed on me by the library. The founder of this must have been a Compton Mac fan. I have just finished Sinister Street which I liked better than some of his others. It has some rather acute studies of childhood and adolescence but is far too longwinded. I liked Burmese Days - a nice brutal, incisive study. When my head begins to swim with too much fiction I sit down to Fowler's King's English and summarise some parts likely to be useful to me in the future. Occasionally I do some work.

                One of our men here has just got his ticket on medical grounds. I envy him his freedom though not his stomach. Just imagine the joy of leaving the RAF for ever. There have been times in the past when I would have voiced more noble sentiments and begged for the privilege of being allowed to finish the job. But now I just want to settle down with you - and anyone else who happens to come along.

                This released man is from Glasgow, is named Drummond and, as I have just discovered, used to work in the Central Agency. He knows my second cousins Charles and Jo Cassells - in which he has the advantage over me, for I would recognise neither.

               Don't bother to send on Merchant Adventurers. Good books are apt to get damaged in the post, so just lay it aside for our new book case. I shall however be delighted to receive any Penguins which your good taste selects. They will make a happy addition to the library here when I have read them.

                There is quite a stir in Parliament just now about teachers' salaries. In one way this levelling process is a good thing: it may make for unity and concerted action in the future. If however the slight differentiation in salaries leads to a falling off in the numbers of graduates and honours graduates, then changes will have to be made. Naturally I feel some financial reward is due to the more highly qualified teacher but quite honestly I think few secondary teachers would exchange their jobs with the slum school elementary teachers, even on level salaries.

                 I didn't realise G_____ was growing to such enormous breadths. Poor George will need a rope and a set of climbing irons before he can get busy - with the ever-present danger of breaking his neck if he falls off. I wonder how she would get on with her 'stoutness' on North Goatfell now? As for "nappy talk", if the future brings what we hope, I can see you having to snibben G_____ pretty sharply for the nones. Otherwise you'll be overwhelmed. I'm afraid maternity went with a rush to G____'s humourless head. Your friend Eden T. sounds as if she has a more detached viewpoint on the subject.

               Nothing of note has happened with me. I have been definitely posted here and look like staying for some time, though of course appearances of permanence don't count for much in the service. My general health is excellent. I hope you have not more of these little physical ills which are so damned annoying when you have to teach. I'm looking forward with great eagerness to your next letter ........

*Presumably the news awaited was confirmation of the already suspected pregnancy. 

Tuesday 20 February 1945, Colchester

My dear
             This is my morning off so for a change I am writing in my own time. I am looking forward to receiving a letter from you today but if I wait till it arrives before finishing this I'll miss today's outgoing mail. So perhaps you'll excuse another letter with very little "substance" in it.

             I was sorry to be so late phoning last Sunday. I was on duty during the evening and got involved in some work just as I was leaving. The line was very good and I heard your voice better tan ever. It is painful news that you are still feeling bad in the mornings though I don't suppose that we could reasonably expect you to be exempt from a universal complaint. Perhaps Kate [Dr Kate Harrower] will be able to indicate the time when you can expect relief from that uncomfortable phase of your present enterprise. I feel it is all wrong that I should not be enduring some pain or discomfort also. But short of inducing a series of regular hangovers I am afraid I can only offer you sincere but ignorant and helpless sympathy.

           ....The milder weather [has come] and it is most pleasant just now and quite unseasonably warm. I sat yesterday evening at the door of my hut and watched a lovely delicate sunset while he birds were shouting their heads off. We cannot hope that this is spring just yet by it is very pleasant after the horrors of January.

             The more I think of my last two leaves the more do I realise how marvellous it will be to come home for good. The bondage of Glasgow Corporation may be chafing at times but at least it does not lie on one day and night, and it leaves home life unaffected. I'm longing to get back to an orgy of domesticity - painting, whitewashing, refurnishing and generally making a new start in our life together. I am sorry we won't be able to move at once to the kind of house you would like* but we'll have lots of fun refurbishing our present home. This second start is going to be even more exciting and enjoyable than the first.

            Meanwhile I am patiently enduring a life of matchless dullness and monotony. It is really worse than the desert where there was always a war at hand and the exigencies of mere existence. However I count the weeks - only ten of them now till my next leave and a good prospect that Germany many be smashed during that time.

           I've at last written to Blakeney. I'm afraid my letter was too facetious to be of much help in his moral dilemma but probably the latter has resolved itself one way or the other. His next letter should be rather amusing.

          I'm dipping into the Impressions of Engl. Lit. with great enjoyment. It's a grand book for odd minutes. Some of the writers are violently prejudiced (eg Graham Greene dismisses Shaw in one slighting sentence) but interesting for all that. And the pictures are lovely.

          Lunch is beginning to call me insistently and with it the prospect of your letter. Receiving one means as much to me as ever it did in foreign parts. I'll be very interested to hear at the end of this week what Kate's verdict is. Meanwhile continue to keep a very watchful eye on your own health and comfort. Give my regards to all at 155 [Hyndland Road, home of his in-laws] and take a big hug (administered with due regard to your condition) to your own sweet self. ...

*It was in fact ten years after the war that they bought their own house in Broomhill, in which Margaret Findlay lived till the age of 92. Until then, they continued to rent a top flat in Novar Drive, Hyndland.

Sunday 28 January 1945, R.A.F. Officers' Mess, Mark's Hall

My darling
                 Since last writing I have received your letter of Jan 24th - the one enclosing Andrew's screed. I am sorry to hear that my letters are taking so long to get to you. The reason is that a censorship has been imposed on our mail and that always increases the time they take to get to their destination. Fortunately for me, incoming mail is unaffected and your delightful letters are coming through as well as ever.

                  I had a slight headache this morning due to a hefty inoculation yesterday. That, as the M.O. says, makes me completer for another year. I sincerely hope it is the last jag I'll get from the R.A.F. My headache has now gone and I'm looking forward with relish to the Sunday evening dinner.

                 It's still snowing here as if it would never stop. Since I came here the temperature has hardly ever been above freezing point and most of the time it has been far below. Underneath the snow the ground is iron hard. It actually hurts one's feet to walk on it. Still I manage to keep fairly comfortable and I feel the cold much less than I did at first. Also I've taken to going to bed at night with a brick. We heat our bricks on the charcoal stove in the hut, then wrap them up in a towel and the result is far more comforting than any hot water bottle. It makes going to bed much more pleasant but nothing can be done to alleviate the shock of getting up in the morning.

               On the whole however the weather is not as trying as what I experienced at Aleppo this time last year. there the icy winds used to penetrate all my blankets and I had to wear a balaclava in bed to keep my ears from falling off.

                Andrew's letter is very interesting. His life out there sounds very fictional. In fact, what with his bearing the white man's burden in the wilds and leaving a hopeless love affair at home, Andrew is developing his whole existence along very melodramatic lines.  I have no doubt he extracts some enjoyment from this fact at present but I wonder what his plans are for the future.  Alternately waiting for forbidden fruit to fall into his lap and then stifling his disappointment in the Nigerian forests doesn't seem to me to lead anywhere.

                 I've just read Action at Aquila by Hervey Allen. It's passable, if rather sentimental. Meanwhile I'm still struggling with Lavransdatter. It's a terrible book to read under present conditions. Winter broods over it. People are always stumbling over iron-hard snow or crying themselves to sleep in an icy-cold bed. the only time any of the characters shows the slightest bit of animation is where there is a spot of rape imminent. At other times they sigh over a gloomy past or a foreboding future. If I ever finish this book, immediately on top of Bleak House, I'll feel I've achieved something in the way of a literary marathon.

                 I hope that by now your throat is completely better. I just loathe the idea of your having to go our to work in weather like this. For Heaven's sake stay off if you don't feel quite fit. You must take care of yourself. I'm glad to hear your mother is recovering. I hope your father has avoided all the effects of this cold spell. My leg is getting better gradually. I'm resting it as much as I can and that undoubtedly seems to be the right treatment.

                I'll be phoning you later this evening. Meanwhile, cheerio darling. ...

Tuesday 23rd January 1945, Earl's Colne

My dear,
               Again I have allowed a longer time than usual to come between my letters. The reason as I said on Sunday night is a recurrence of my rheumatism ... I went to the M.O. yesterday and he gave me lots of Veganin tablets and a good embrocation but he says if it remains stubborn I must go into sick bay for rest and radiant heat treatment. Evidently the notion that one should exercise rheumaticky muscles has been displaced by the idea of complete rest. ....

              I heard you perfectly on Sunday night thought the line didn't seem to be so good from my end. I enjoy these brief spells of contact very much but my thrift revolted at the idea of having a double spell. You see I have given up the attempt to phone you during the cheap period which I believe ends at 9.30p.m. During that time there is always a long delay which means hanging about in a cold hall near the telephone. So I wait till everyone else has finished phoning and then I get through without difficulty. I hope you don't consider this horribly extravagant.

              Your letter posted Friday reached here yesterday. I'm sorry to hear that the cold weather has reached Glasgow and brought to you all the usual worries about freezing pipes. If it gets really bad you can leave the lamp box* on the bathroom switched on all the time: I don't think it will set fire to anything. Also, one bar left on in the dining room day and night would help to heat the loft. [of their top floor flat] However I don't believe that the cold at present is anything like as severe as it was in these dreadful winters early in the war.

                Thanks for your graceful little exposition on the Brueghel family. If you prefer the Winter Scene for the dining room we'll have it by all means. At any rate a Brueghel on the wall will enable you to dispense as a careless trifle all you know about that artistic family to our open-mouthed guests.

               I am now embarked on Kristin Lavransdatter and wallowing in its high-souled melancholy.  It seems to be well done though it is not exactly my type of poison. I don't greatly care for such thundering long books.

               You don't need to worry about my laundry. There is a weekly collection of stuff for a laundry in Colchester and I've sent my things there. Anyway, I wouldn't dream of sending stuff home to you as you have quite enough to do as it is.

               Once again the evening news bulletin is very exciting. If the Germans are going to stop the Russians and gain a few months' respite they'll have to do it in the next few days. Otherwise I think all organised German resistance will collapse and the Russians will be all over the Reich. Opinion seems to be evenly divided between those who think that the Germans will halt the Russians in time to make another spring or summer offensive necessary, and those who believe that the end is now in sight. Personally I don't know what to think but the truth should be clear in a day or two.

               I'm sorry to hear about your mother's cold. Tell her I was asking for her and make her drink a third of a tumbler of neat whisky. I hope you are not being overworked at present. Please keep well and look after yourself...


*Lamp box: to the best of my recollection this was a square biscuit tin with four holes drilled into it, into which fitted the fixings of four light bulbs, thereby producing a primitive low-wattage heater. It was still in use in my childhood.

Friday 19 January, 1945, Earl's Colne

My darling
                 I intended to write yesterday but was out all day on duty. As a result of this delay, I have three letters to acknowledge, yours of 15th Jan and 17th Jan and your father's of 16th Jan. The enclosure that came with the first of these was from Stapley. When he left me in Naples he was on his way to Cairo but when he got there he found a telegram announcing his mother's death. As he was the only relative, he was posted home to settle her affairs. He doesn't seem to be doing much work where he is now, and finds service life at home very dull. His chief hope is that of wangling a posting near his home: it is in Uxbridge, so he should have quite a good prospect of success.

                  I've just read the whole of Churchill's speech and the comments on it by various newspapers. It seems to me to be one of his best speeches. No doubt the truth about Greece lies in some medial position between his attitude and that of Bevan but, even if it does offend your liberal sympathies, I think Churchill is the nearer to it. I've seen and conversed with Communists and Leftists in Corsica and France and I feel it is sheer folly for writers like Kingsley Martin  to attribute to such passionate illiterates and thugs their own refined sentiments. Many of the E.L.A.S. warriors are I'm sure only a few generations removed from bandits and can't have much notion of democracy or toleration.

                   The Russian news is overwhelming now and anything might happen. We'll know soon whether or not the Germans can put up a defence of their own frontiers. If they cannot, the war in Europe will soon be over. A rational German government would surely surrender now but I'm afraid the maniac element has got such control that much of Germany will have to be laid waste before it collapses. And I don't think the Russians will be slow to take their revenges.

....

                  Your father in his note says that Margaret had a nice letter from Andrew[Gerrard, D.F's cousin] today and adds that he'll leave you to tell me all about it. I'm afraid he has no comprehension of his eldest daughter's duplicity. By the way, have you any really attractive female cousins that I could start corresponding with?

                 Yesterday I was driven for hours round the northern suburbs of London. What a ghastly district it is. The townlets and suburbs are attractive enough in themselves but the pattern is always the same and is repeated endlessly. I should hate to live in any of them.

                 You have not mentioned yet if my ration card arrived. I hope it did since the grocer was so decent about advancing my rations.

                  The food here is really excellent. It has been a revelation to me to see what R.A.F. cooks can do when they have the advantage of decent kitchens to work in. They are a different race from the poor drudges overseas whose fires were always being blown away or put out by rain and whose raw material consisted of only dehydrated products. We get plenty of fresh meat here with occasional fish and eggs and some very nice lines in steamed puddings. I'll probably get really fat here ...

                  It is now half past ten dear, and shortly I'll be going off duty to trudge across the snow (yes, snow again) to my little tin hut. There will be a red-hot stove making it comfortable if not home-like. After putting this letter in its envelope I'll get under my seven blankets ...

Tuesday 16 January, 1945, Earls Colne:evening

Dearest,
             Your letter of last Friday came on Monday just after I had posted a letter to you. I was delighted to get it and hear of all the interesting things you are doing. My life here is very dull and uneventful. At its best it produces a kind of boring calm, but that is poor matter for letter writing. I eat, sleep, work and read and absolutely nothing else. I have not been out of the camp with the exception of that one visit to Coggeshall. But I am quite contented to contemplate the passing of time and hope that it won't be too long before I see you.

              One of the officers in my hut is turning out quite an interesting character. He is just home from Canada and has brought home many interesting things including an edition of the 'Moon and Sixpence' illustrated, or rather adorned, with thirty of Gaugin's pictures. He also brought back many fine prints of old masters including a gigantic one over six feet hight of Peter Brughel's* famous winter scene. The latter he carried all over Canada in a huge cardboard container but now that he has got it safely home, he wonders where he can find a wall to sustain it. Incidentally, how would you like a print of Brueghel's* harvest scene in our dining room? The jolly little man (in the bottom right corner if I remember correctly) lying sound asleep with his mouth open would be a grand inspiration for me after one of your excellent meals. We must inquire with Mr Annan next time I'm home.

              * How do you spell the bastard's name?  

              And talking of home, I want you to keep me accurately informed of the goings and comings of the  painters. If I should get the chance in the future of a brief spell at home I want to have up-to-date information about the decorators so that my visit does not clash with theirs. So let me have the information for my tablets please.

              From the news tonight, it really looks as if the Russians are putting on another major offensive. It is possible that the war might finish sooner that we thought at one time. It can't be too soon for me.

              A very senior officer here who was in the Western Desert at one time came up to me in the bar and wanted to know where he had met me before. As I had very little contact with him in the old days this is an awful tribute to my pan's unforgettable qualities.

              Dearest, when I began this letter I hoped to be free from interruption for a time but people have kept bobbing in every few lines with the result, I fear, that the whole thing is completely disjointed. So I am going to give it up, as I feel it will never make a decent letter anyway. However I'll post it tomorrow morning and hope you will read it with a charitable eye.  ...

              Goodnight, darling.


      

Early January, 1945, Earls Colne - leave over

F/O D.H.G.Findlay 105428

R.A.F. Officers Mess

Marks Hall

Earls Colne

Colchester

Essex

My darling,

                   I am convinced that my address should really read "Starkadder Farm, Little Howling" but I'll deal with that aspect of my present surroundings later on.

                   As I told you in a postcard, I had quite a pleasant journey [from Glasgow]to London. After breakfast in Euston I meandered through suburban Essex and landed at Chigwell about 10am. I soon found to my surprise that it was full of people in my racket [ciphers] all being trained to go to Northern Europe, which of course is not "overseas" nowadays. I reported to dozens of people and then had a full medical examination including three inoculations in quick succession. ...

... I was just settling down to compose a very dismal letter to you when a phone message came in from the Adjutant saying that myself and another officer called Davies were to leave first thing in the morning for a unit near Colchester. This involved returning to London where we passed the time between trains in a News Theatre and in the Regent Palace Hotel. Then a very slow and tortuous journey brought us here.

                   And 'here' is almost off the map. We are right in the heart of rural Essex and I was certain that old Adam Lambsbreath would be awaiting us at the station. Actually there was nobody, since the unit did not know we were coming. However after an icy wait of half an hour a car arrived to take us to Marks Hall.

                 I should think this must be one of the most primitive of home stations. Four of us are billeted in a large Nissen hut containing one stove which scorches one side of those who huddle round it and leaves the other side to be fanned by the icy gales. The temperature when we got up this morning was something awful as there had been a fall of snow during the night. However the country is quite pretty and I think I could enjoy it here in milder weather.

               However, anything like permanence is not yet in sight. Nobody knows why we are here and I'm afraid we will be on our way soon. The vast majority of those who preceded us home from the Mediterranean have been sent to Northern Europe and I fear that I may make that journey soon too. I must say that from first impressions I'd be quite happy to stay here.   

                I felt very dismal after leaving you. Life is so flat .... and the contrast between [the time spent on leave] and this semi-convict life is heartbreaking. However I suppose I'll soon settle down to the dull routine of passing time and it won't be long before I can give myself the pleasure of anticipation again. ...

... The Mars Bar I intend to eat luxuriously in bed some afternoon. If I stay here, I can see me getting in lots of bed-pressing hours.

[This letter ends with the expression of hope that the future - ie after the war ends - is perhaps "a bit nearer and more distinct than it used to be in the past."]