Scotland
1/7/42*
1st JULY 1942
First July 1942
July 1st 1942
Dearest Heart :
My birthday, our birthday, because we share such things. I’m writing this in the morning, in a vague convoy lecture, because if I get leave of absence from the lecture this evening I’ve a treat on, Hansel & Gretel by the Covent Garden Opera Co, at the Theatre Royal. I don’t know whether my application will be frowned upon or not, I just wait & see, – & hope for the best. Its a lovely idea. Certain to stimulate thoughts of you.
Now that completely serviceable & nice smelling exciting present is truly & morally mine. Thankyou, seven times seven. You didn’t ought you know.
I left Caldergrove at 1o/c last night, and began to walk home, a moonlit three miles. But a ghost bus, dark & thundering stopped for me. The conductor, & the sensation of many people but none visible in the pitch black interior. I stood on the conductor’s platform & peered eerily, I then realized that it was full of very tired, silent motionless miners with coal black faces ! As though by magic I was put down at the corner of our lane. And so I was home.
7.15 in the evening :
No luck over the Opera. Edward was charming. He was very sympathetic & explained that it would be the thin end of the wedge if he let me go. Others would want to go as well. But he suggested that I might risk it. But even on a hint from the Co. Commander I thought it wiser not to go and its just as well. I only had 4 hours sleep last night so an early night tonight will be better. Peter & I are going to Hamilton for a drink & a birthday supper & then back, clean rifle etc & early to bed.
This evening I had an hour with Ingram over the show. I’ve got some Blackout ready and various ideas. It may be all right. We’ve got a meeting tomorrow at 6.30. I had intended to go to Caldergrove but . . . I cannot dodge all this. I’ll do my best. Maybe I can get away after giving the Blackout some production. Your Monday letter came at teatime, a dear letter, in which you had realized that today is my birthday. I also had a book from Auntie Emma & promise of socks. 50 cigarettes & 2oz of tobacco from Auntie Edie – & promise of socks. & a letter from Mother & £2. Also a promise of shirts & so on. Quite the spoiled boy.
I must write to these good people, but not tonight : Your letter, yes & the then cleaning. We had a vicious assault course this morning & we are all in a pickle. Along the burn, in the water to our knees, grenades fired at us, clay bombs & so on. Then a lot of crawling & climbing, much leaping & and then a controlled Bayonet charge of 100 yards & up the Bing, sticking dummies as we went. Through smoke & gas, D.M. & altogether a desperate encounter. But taken by & large, fun, genuine fun. This afternoon we rehearsed the Pass Off for an hour & a half, in the heat wave. Advancing in Review Order, General Salute & so on. Then a demonstration of field cooking, & then this evening a lecture by two Poles, officers, on The Polish campaign.
No more now, dearest. Yes, make it D’s & cope & the Croft for lunch.
