1021 Docks  Op. Coy. R.E.  C.M.F.

Dearest,

There has been a gap between my letters, inevitably. But here we are again, in a tobacco plantation, with lots of jolly little lizards with spotted sides and a coy sideways expression. I have, like everyone, a nice hole in the ground between five foot tobacco plants, and my bivouac over the top, and cosy it is to be sure, though very much a single seater.    All well and happy and nearer home.

No mail can get to us for a while, but it will follow us, like the women in Napoleonic armies.    The last is still the 12th. August one, about the birthmark, a much read letter.   A pile will come bless them and the Spectator would make intriguing reading. My typewriter travels with me in a sheet of balloon fabric and is doing well.   My woolley dressing gown enshrouds me at night, and your leather washing things case is used daily.   And your letters are always a joy to read.

Does Dickie grow in grace?   Has he laughed yet? Has he become aware of things about him?   Does he feel at home in his home – our home, his home, a nice thought.    Candy, is she well and no dislocation of the nose?   Gold would cope, Uncle Gold would reset it.    I shall.    Oh yes, I have a true sense of proportion and know that long go Hen ears and flappy furry paws and a very soft heart looking through very large eyes are worth, ten little English boys of pinkness who cannot bark, nor jump, nor shut doors nor guard a grouse under all circumstances foregoing everything, forsaking all else, and cleaving only unto said Grouse. Master will re-set any dislocated noses, phelt noses.   And phelt pheet, how is he bearing up?   Very superior to Brer rabbit I expect. Oh, let there be no women in Dickie’s life, no female penguins nor gander ducks, women are the devil.    Let his playmates be few and manly.   He’s women enough, and to spare, I expect.    Let Leonard or Peter see him sometimes, unshaven, L. or P., so that he will be accustomed to a grizzled chin for at times mine will be grizzled. Its   smooth now, under all conditions – and we have our little ups and our little downs,- do we shave our chins.

We hear snatches of news of the greater campaign, but nothing definite, some are rumour some are not.    The Italians giving in is good thing, and Jerry must be in need of intuitions now. But he can still fight quite well, though not just well enough.    But of more interest to us here is the Mail and the sooner it filters through the better.    In a week it may begin to come. I’ve got a mountain to come, all your pre-air-mail letters but one since July 10th., and all the air mails except the first. Also papers and other letters maybe, though its yours that signify.

My office here is a   fifteen foot square hut, the tobacco growers tool shed, more recently a German Coy. H.Q.    I have a table and two chairs, nails in the walls with bull dog clips holding papers, my precious rubber stamps, and my Useful Box and pin box. Also a German dagger-bayonet as paper knife. (For Dickie later) Peaches are the local fruit, but they aren’t quite ripe yet, but there’s a good time coming.

Does Dickie look dignified, in his perambulator, or solemn, or intrigued, or indifferent, or what?   Colour of eyes, presence or absence or colour of hair, eye-lashes, flappiness of ears and such information gladly received. I expect you can understand how eagerly I will read any comments, pictures, observations, or details of any sort.

How does the money manage? I am not spending much, there’s nowt to spend it on, but I’ll spend nil if its needed. I’m sorry I’m not writing any thing or getting a rise yet, these things take time.   I’m ripe for it, but have to wait for the opportunity.    But with Field and Colonial allowance and your augmented allowance you should manage. But I know how difficult it is.    Let me know the bank figure from time to time.

Just had an apple, quite a nice one though not like the Great Alne ones. Next year maybe.   How are the apples.

I am a fond husband, though busy just now and not fretting, though in my little bed at nine – we bed down with the sun now again, no lights – I think and drift, thinking, into sleep. Bless you dearest heart.

Ever your own…

Kind regards to Mr. Scott Daniell (Junr). And to your good mother and Marjorie and Candy and the hens and Julian and Uncle Jack and Mrs. Anderton.