My Release Book has come ! A beautiful document, and so very efficient with its many pages of carefully worked out details. We are expected to start our homeward journey on the 29th of Jan, but if we go direct we’ll go when a suitable ship arrives here round about that time. It’s unbelievable! Yet against all the glorious panoply of my return – a glory I cannot see I have deserved – against all the delights I even now hardly dare contemplate too closely is a streak of regret at leaving this job ! I have at last fulfilled myself & everything seems to quiver with activity & control. I’ve got it all so personally. People come for advice, Ian is fully mine & backs me in everything, & I’ve countless projects & plans in hand. The camp for example, was a dull medley of tents & bad buildings. We’ve already a smart entrance, all white posts & a great RE flag proudly at the head of a schooner mast, a guard resplendent in white equipment, a garden in front of the neatly painted guardroom – white posts & white ropes marking the drives, tents newly aligned, signposts & a “village green” with a rockery, & we are pulling down & rebuilding everywhere. We’ve a new Education centre launched & many things in hand. But we’ve got, Ian & I, a fine new enthusiasm everywhere. We’ve a terrific project of a training Company, for these grand youngsters coming out from England.

                        But this is stupid ! It’s because I put my heart in it. And it is very much for the best to leave with all sizzling with activity & my verve unimpaired than to be cold & unoccupied. It shows I come home in full heart & verve. Every day is so busy & full, letters, interviews, telephonings, conferences, problems to solve & appeals to Caesar to settle. So I’ll be home in full sail & ready for Action.

                        And always you are in my life, and I shall have you in my arms in a measurable number of days. And Richard to bow to. And Candy.

                        You know, just writing is not enough, I must have sundry activities, my peculiar make up demands it. I need affairs & busyness. We’ll lead a busy life, somehow. Oh, it’s all very large & exciting, the glorious years stretching ahead. Full dramatic years, rich & varied, & love & the life of our family in it all. How I’ll wait & gaze in the bow of our ship for the first sign of England. I remember my last, of Ireland, sailing away secretly and a quite High Adventure, & the mixed thoughts I had. Then it was not possible to contemplate a return. So many in that convoy did not ! So we are blessed.

                        And don’t think my streak of regret at leaving is important. It’s no more than a healthy dislike of handing over a job which can never be completed. I disliked leaving 1021 & the S/L unit ! And Alex ! And you in 1943 !

                        Never again do I have to leave you all my work. Oh, I’ll

                        Oh, important. Can you possibly trace my O/R number, when I was a gunner. I need it for my Release Book. Your very good memory may have it or an odd letter or document. It was 111. . . . . . Can you hunt & send it by return, not waiting for a letter to go with it if there’s not time. Can you rescue me please ?
Sent off three tins of crawfish today ! Hope it is needed.
Shall we play a few records when I get home ? Plans are impossible. I feel your a little bit nervous of this rencontre with a man ! Poor you. I’ll be a veritable bumpkin & shy. My monkish life has left me inexpert with ladies I fear. However. . . .

                           And there is Richard. . .

                        So I have my license to the civil life, the life domestic, the life fully individual, to you. Bless you. Live quietly in these last weeks of your three years of fortitude & patience, & of courage. Peace & quiet & then the real peace will come.