Wartime Brothers 1944

I’m feeling rather cheesed (off), as you can imagine, Darling, but I’ll try not to sound too browned off - though it’s not very easy when, at the slightest chance, my mind starts wandering back and reliving the grandest leave I have every yet had…

The journey up wasn’t too bad in a physical sense …I managed to find Dave (Arlot) on the platform and as he had got a couple of seats we were alright although the train was more crowded that I have seen it before - they were standing in the compartments as well as in the corridors. We got back to camp about half past ten and I felt pretty tired - guess maybe I must have had a late night or something….. All the boys are back and seem to have had a good time (although it must have been pretty mediocre in comparison with mine), except the W/Op who once again hasn’t returned. I haven’t yet been able to find out whether he has managed to wangle another extension but I suppose he has - he certainly knows how. The transition for me up here seems to be progressing quite easily despite some ... remarks - though they have not been nearly as numerous nor as rude as I have been expecting. Maybe the boys are getting soft or are sorry for me! Maybe.

It’s getting near bedtime now ….so I’l finish this off in the morning.

Hello Darling. I’m awake again (fairly, anyway) so I’ll try to get this finished off before lunch. The W/Op turned up this morning having, as I had expected, got a 24 extension, although it wasn’t a wangle this time. The weather today is really grand - bags of blue sky and sunshine, with a very slight breeze. Definitely spring like, in fact the season when young men’s fancies idly turn or something. Good show. I have finished that book and enjoyed it very much…..I’ll send it back in a day or two….I’ll send your hair clips as well - and don’t leave them lying around in such places in future, please.

The “this evening”, in my miserable few lines at lunchtime has come along so, having settled down fairly comfortably in an an armchair in front of the fire, I’ll do my best to thank you for those letters of yours……

………. don’t think anybody knows just how much I am looking forward to that day when we achieve at least a few of those dreams - ..a home of our own, a fireside, a radio, a bookcase and those bookends. don’t know how long it will take before that happens, or even if it will ever happen, but I do know that it is something well worth fighting for.

You asked me if I remembered that day we went to Hampton Court and lay in the sun - do you honestly think, Darling, that I could ever forget it. That was the day when I could really begin ot hope that the odds weren’t too heavy against me - and that’s something well worth remembering. After I got your letter today I was laying out on the ground by the kite and the day was very similar - sun shining, a few clouds in the sky a slight breeze. When I closed my eyes, I could feel you there beside me again, and it was just simply grand.

…..’Up here’ , by the way is still not doing too badly, and the new mess, I must admit, is quite an improvement over the old one. Table napkins, however, appear to be reserved for the more elect - far above a mere junior and very sprog P/O. Apart from that, I haven’t any grumbles so far, and am managing to get quite a spot of table tennis in at odd times. I think it’s about time I wandered down to the billets, Darling and grab a spot of sleep - although I doubt whether it’ll help my own particular (or peculiar maybe) style of beauty very much.

…I’m writing this in front of a fire in the mess very correctly attired in all the finery appropriate to a “butterfly” — including a certain very special pair of cufflinks, which are in a addition a very strong link between us and remind me of you every time I think of them or put them on.

I regret that I have no suitable reply to your remarks upon my transition from maggot to butterfly (I know maggot isn’t the exact word but I don’t like risking my spelling). I can only point out that I am upholstered neither with manly chest not bulging muscles - in fact I often wonder where I get the strength to lift up half a pint and breath to drink it down. So if you’re really so dead keen on those particular [ilks ?] of chest and muscles I’m rather afraid i’ve had my time - Skinny’s the word.

Many many thanks indeed, Darling, for yet another grand letter from you. I got it when I got back here last night, having been down near Oxford. One day maybe I’ll get a chance to sit down properly and really have time to write you a decent letter in return - I think I’m owing you quite a few by now. At the moment, however, time is once again rather limited, so - well, I’m awful sorry, dearest love, but this is only another very scrappy effort.

Heaven only knows how you consistently manage to make each letter even better than the last, but I’m awful glad you do…those letters help quite a lot in making that gap between leaves seem not quite so long…I suppose it’s queer how one’s ideas change - at one time in my life this way of living would have been pretty near ideal. A decent mess, a good bunch of blokes and enough money to be reasonably comfortable. .. now..I begrudge every moment that has to be spent away from your presence.

In answer to your request for yet another photograph, I rather feel that you ought not to impose upon your parents by having such a grim reminder of their daughter’s associates thrust upon their outraged vision. And I very much doubt whether they would thank me for aiding and abetting such an idea.