There is the thumping of a dance band dimly through the walls of this hut from the adjacent NAAFI where there is a Unit Dance, with a covey, squadron or fleet of WRNS to be danced with, and the loch side to be walked round. But although everyone is in gleaming S.D. and is gay and spruce I am happier far in my nice old Battle dress, with a table by the stove and you to write to, the Stevedore article to write, and a bed to go to when I have no more writing to do. And you are a theme to keep any man quiet and content whilst others dance with inferior women.

                        A nice letter from you, a loveley letter in fact, thrice read and under my pillow to be read again last thing. You told me about the pictures, I never ordered six, they said four for six guineas, did they mean six for four ? Anyhow, I’ll order two big ones anyhow, four if I have to have four, and a few little ones if I can have 2 big ones only, for Eileen, J.G.L., your handbag and Mrs. Spncer. Anyone else ? You shall have the distribution rights of them. Bertha might like one, I’ll see. Its all very difficult, I must get some money. The bank will like to know about the Battles. If your household is all square the money, twenty four or forty eight guineas, six or twelve, shall go straight to Mr. Lloyd and set our overdraft to rights. My promotion to Lieutenant has come through so I’ll get the full pay now, that will help. And if in some benighted way these strange lunches lead to a captaincy, in the unwisdom of those who do these things, then that’ll help again, Dickie is worth getting promotion for, bless his heart. But its only surmise, maybe I’ll be lucky enough to stay with D Section and my very happy band of brother officers, than which no band of B.O.’s are bigger toots. Bless them.

                        The Loch is very loveley today, though it is cold. The hills and the little white cottages at the water’s edge, are picturesque in the most brazen manner. Oh, on the letter table today was a letter in your unmistakably nice handwriting for CARTER. I am cleaning, oiling and loading my revolver this evening. He arrives tomorrow morning. I shall hand him the letter with my left hand, my right will hold my revolver.

                        Your voice was bewitching, at half past midnight ! You are bewitching. I must get to you soon, I must. I think, by the way, you had better address letters to Bromborough after Friday week, March 12th. ! Then I’ll tell you what to do and where to write to. Quite good news that, because it does put leave back, staying too long on courses.

                            Oh, the battles. Here is the list I’ve sent to Sybill Matthews. Now, I know but little of the Battle of Hastings, Will you send Trevelyan, and the Bayeux tapestry book, which is, I think, in the book case in Dickie’s room. Also will you read it up in those big green five volumed history books and also in the red ones, they’re quite good, and in Green’s History, if its there, and then send me a brief account for me to write up, I want any anecdote about it. The same treatment will serve for Crecy and Agincourt, not the Bayeux tapestry though, I want a nice childish appect, not as per Cambridge Modern History. I need a brief resume of the reason of the battle, the time and place, the course, the result with any figures, and always an anecdote or something, the Black Prince and his spurs, Shakespeare’s story of Henry V at A being pleased they were outnumbered. You might send me that quote.. “What, who is he that . . . . . . ” and all that. When Henry says there are gentlemen in England now abed, I can use that I think. That’s three jobs for now, to look up Hastings, Crecy and Agincourt. Will you please, and quickly ? I wanna der monie. Oh and job four and five, hunt out my talk for Uraguay on Trafalgar and on Blenheim, and my other Blenheim script, – Rhoda Power. And the Blenheim book. That will be five to do at once, I think I can pour them out, and a good thing too. Will you please do this ?

                  There are many ways, I used several;- Medditterranean, Meditteranin, Mediterranean, Medditterannean, and so on. Its not me, its the typewriter, not a very clever one.

                        Little vests and pants and nighties, why not pyjamas ? Christopher has pyjamas. But you know best. Not prickly wool, please. If heshe is at all like the Old Man heshe’ll hate, whiskery or sandy pyjamas.

                        Sandy pyjamas, Sandy Powell singing My Mothers name is Mary on the radio as I write, Odd ? No, not  odd.

                        Can you lay your hands on the saving certificates we started ? I’ll finish them off and others as well for Dickie-Anne for you. We do it hard here, sales go up every payday, so I may as well contribute to D sections total. Also to Dickie-Anne.

                        Yes, Julian would be a nice name. Why not this one ? Ask himher, and find out.  Actually we’ll know, same as we knew Candy’s name. Same as our book people, their names spring up ready-made.

                        The Dance was quite a success, apart from our recent, telephone talk ! I hated going, and struggled but one has to support these things. A village hall about two miles out, very hot and sticky, and lots of females, and quite a fair number of men. Peter beamed and gushed and sweated as MC, Jack didn’t win any prizes. My affability was mild and gentle, and I told them all about you, and the Land army girl who has an easy job cutting brussels sprouts was made to gasp at you, alone in a sahara of sugar beet, bent double day after day. But maybe all my blazing affaires and my quadruple life will crystalise into a single married bliss when we are three. A great tie to a wandering husband, a cheeeild, or so they say.

                        For three days I’ve worn no glasses. On Sunday the right lense tinkled out into my dinner, to everyone’s delight, and then I wore the army ones leaving the horn ones by my bed. The army ones bored holes in my nose, so I took them off. Lockley skillfully mended the others but the lens is inside out and upside down. I don’t like telling Lockley, so I went without and I’ve had no headaches, seen everything and read easily, Maybe my eyes are mending. Maybe not.

                        I’m in radiant health and full of life and vitality and wish you were with me But as I’m going to see Auntie I its just as well not.. But directly I come back from Auntie’s you must come and stay, I think the dear Reeds were damp and bad for is a pity, so good in all other ways.

                        Little Allan goes to see Ruth tomorrow and I’m orderly stooging for him. I hope to write summatt, for Dickie and for the picture and for you. As I have to redraft THE ADVENTURE for broadcasting maybe I can start from memory and do it anew anyhow, d’you agree. No new word for Douglas Cleverdon. Who are the four pictures for ?  Do tell me.

                        I’m that fond of you, and above all my silken liassons, my amorous adventures and my don juanning I have the vision of you to set off the poor substitutes.

                        This mess is very handsome now. We have, an entrance hall, new painted and bare, and on the left, after a right turn from the front door, the Ante-room, a large oak beamed room with wooden corner seats, churchy.  Here is a large double leather sette against the wall, our table tennis table, and round the fire, two settees and three deep armchairs. Then opposite is the mess room, with a handsome  highly polished oval table to seat ten, made of two round tables filled cunningly in and the whole highly polished. .There are deep baths and fine rooms, scandalously handsome. Come and revel in it.

                        Abca tomorrow for three sections on Army Food. Should be a brisk discussion.

                        Bless and save and preserve and burgeoen you. Dickie is beyond all shadow of doubt now I suppose ? No pains ? I loved the nurses tales !

Your shape is glorious, my dear, and your growing glory makes David love you more and more; never nave I loved till now, nor pined for you, till now, nor ached to have you and to hold you, to comfort you and to solace you, to see you merry, and thoughtful, and quiet, and vivacious, and talking in your inimitable way to animals, who love and trust you as no Other mortal is loved by these discriminating souls, the four footed, the furred and the feathered. Ask Corisande who is the loveliest nature she can conceive, and she will “take it to Missis”.

                        Thursday midday. In a Canteen on the Docks, surrounded immediately by cheerful & kindly sappers & less closely by many very fine ships with famous names.

                        I was stopped last night by a fracas of high-spirited subalterndom when Peter attacked Allan, & then we changed & trooped off to Peters concert – The Bright Blackouts. Harry in the O/C’s chair, well Mrs Harry, Ham with Mrs Ham & the Hall full. And a most distressingly bad show. No talent, no originality, no good qualities at all, & the humour in poor taste & savouring of homosexuality. So we are sending in a very fierce report. Afterwards Harry & Ham brought their ladies to the Mess & we talked & supped & so to bed. Eileen asked eagerly after you. The Reedess is clean & careful & her profile is her only virtue. You would handle her well, & she’d act like billio, while you just handled her.

                             A certain amount of reorganisation is going on in the company. All very odd. Only among sappers.

                             We had an inter company cross country run yesterday & Peter gallantly ran, for long miles, & came in 15/30, a stout & very glistening red effort. Good old fond Peter.

                     Sergeants dance on Friday & you  will be very polite & amicable, but still exceedingly . Peter & I are trying to get to Liverpool on Saturday to see “The Pied Piper“, supposed to be a goodish film.

                             Now lunchtime is over & I must collect my stalwarts & back to work.

                        Bless you for ever, dearest heart. I’ve never felt so much a man as now, through you.

Hullo, my little wife, and my child’s mother. You ask if it is important, this child-bearing. I consider it the most important, most vital thing I know of, it is the only thing which can take level place with the love we have for each other. We are to be a family. Only I worry sometimes, about you and the ordeal through which the great happiness has to be bought. It may be trite to say so, but it does seem unfair, that you should have the suffering. Yet I should not even think of anything but a straightforward affair, I’ve not mentioned it before because we must be sensible and you are so sound and natural a person. All will be well, I must not worry.

                        A ships captain with whom I drank beer this morning in his cabin, captain of a large C.P.R. ship, a benign cultured man, and composer of popular songs, became yesterday and grandfather of twins and his daughterinlaw’s two grandmothers bore twins.

                        Deardeardear . . . .

                        Tonight I’m staying strictly in, so I shan’t have telephone to tempt me to ring you. I must have you with me as an imaginary voice and not a real dear and chuckly one.

                        I’m smoking a pipe quite regularly now, a good boy.

                        Oh, information about Movements of troops is not to be divulged, but despite that I have an awful journey, with twenty men, one C.Q.N.S., and one sergeant, Leave Liverpool 00.15 hrs. Monday, arrive Glasgow 0751, leave Glasgow 12.15 and arrive Dalmally 1645. All night in the train ! The rest of them come up on the twenty fifth, and I have to arrange everything for them, rations, quarters, training, and so on. Quite a job. Then we stay there five weeks. Oh dear, but if one approaches it correctly its grand training and grand fun, yet further from you. But out time will come. I must make enough money to let us live as joyously as we wish. Joy making money for you and himher.

                        There is great happiness and friendship and teasing and high spirits in the Mess now. Me in bounding health, Peter reacting brilliantly, Allan gay and frisky, Harry the benign O.C. (the O/C is on a course), and Jack smily and fun. Ham is the only odd one, but he tries to play. Great teasing, ragging, romping and wittiness. But we have our wistful half hours, Peter and I often.

                        You ask for news always. I have no news, but there are strange rumours of a splitting up of our company for the formation of new ones, which, if true, does not seem to imply embarkation in the near future ! Mind you, I don’t know, but there’s talk. Maybe idle, perhaps careless, perhaps, even, dangerous. If only I could be with you in in August, but that is too wistful, and to wish it is shirking my responsibilities as a man.

                        A balmy day at the docks today, not night working as I thought. We have three loaded ships to train men on and I went to my Micky and did wire rope splicing. Warm sun and no wind. Like May it was. Micky is a dear and so fond of me. He’s sixty three next month. You’d love him. Full of Navy sayings . . . “Attitude’s the art of Gunnery and Whiskers make the Man” He gave me long accounts of shortening the T’Gallant Royals in half a gale and drawings of rigs with his thumbnail on a wall. The world is full of great men who have no memorial.

                        Barchester Towers goes well, and pulls this evening, but I must do some writing, we have a concert tomorrow night, so that’s mucked up, and we entertain 1028 officers and some groupists on Thursday, but I’m orderly dog and can take it easy, Friday there is the Sergeants dance, to which we are invited and it might be beery. I think its very likely. Sergeants dances are like that, I fear. As you say, the duties of an officer are manifold.

                        Now fare thee well, and never be anxiou about me and you and dickie-Anne and Candy and the million very fine-spun ties with which you have made me fast. No Grannie’s in those lashings, good seamanllke ones, unshakable by storms blonde, brunnette or piebald.

Bless you dearest one. . .
Ever your own….

Nice talk, dearest one, to you at the Chapmans. I tried 66 and Candy said you had gone down to Marjories, or it might have been Teddie. Anyhow I told them at Trunks about Ewart and his cows and said I didn’t know their address and they gave me 61. Nice of them. Then there you were. And bless you for your ineffable youness. I go to Auntie I with a sergeant and twenty men as an Advance Party on Sunday night travelling overnight.

Quite a quiet three days, preparing the reception of the Company. But I shall be isolated rather. We are there from the 25th. for four and a half weeks, all the rest of the winter till the spring, in fact. Heigh ho,

We can write, but not telephone much. The S.P.P.P.S is in operation. Two Bulletins have been published. One expelling Ham for a month for treating his men badly and being Captainish. He was cross at first and then he was so ingratiating and upset and polite and “little boy in Coventry”. He’s changed greatly and is admitted back. The Captains have been definitely better. The Colonel has a copy, he’s vastly amused with it.

Dreams. You and me criticising a rather pretty and very young and impractical girl he has brought in for tennis. Me rather pro-filly, you slightly anti-Filly, Me watching you bath him-her from the bathroom door at the rubber duck age. Me trying to explain the school reports do mean something and you making him see I was talking nonsense immediately afterwards. Me…. you… him…  her… them… I don’t know.

This is to be a short letter, not that my love is littie or short, but that I had a grand day at the range in a tearing hail storm alternating with brihgttsun. but always a great wind, and since four I worked in the office and now I am ready for bed, and shall there think much, gently, of you and the future, we have our future, dearest one. Us, the two, three or four of us.

Gosh, I am proud of you, the calm, glowing way you accept and prepare to perform the miracle of miracles.

                        Did I grow like Teddy did Teddy grow like me ? It’s an arresting thought. Choose your wooley pet companions and your child will grow like them ! But I did spend a great deal of time at the most formative period of my life with Teddy, we slept together, talked, played, told him stories to which he listened most charmingly, and generally led a double life, of intense innocence, in his very charming company. I do hope he and Dickie get on well together.

                          Two delightful letters from you today, with Susan’s so nice letter. We will sail with the Harveys, and the three boys, or five, can be crew. While Morris makes a film the scenario of which I will write. I see high jinks ahead.

                        Mrs. Matthews pays the same as Anne, four guineas, and her talks are much less fuss than Anne’s plays. So Mrs. M is the line for the boiling of the pot.

                        Nice about you and Anthony whateverhisname is, bathing him. I’m glad you liked it, and feel baby conscious. My God, you must be that. Oh dear, you and a Baby. Peter is undressing at my left hand and has exposed a great deal of his person. Now top and bottom is covered and his nice is clean-ish blue pyjamas. Little Allan is quite sweet in blue bottoms and no top yet. He’s doing his hair, having bathed.

                        The idea of the little pots of flowers for Norman Ireland, with your skill and his charm some good people should get some good things.

                        A busy day being a section officer, with the men nearly 11 the morning and welfaring this evening and about the place this afternoon. Tomorrow I’m on a ship, not working, but instructing, a very large magnificent ship indeed. Quite a to-do. Me and sixty men. Pay parade at half past five.

                        Little Allan is in bed and wants to go to sleep, Peter is cutting nails all over me and I want Candy in her chair, Teddy on his Tallboy and you in my bed, my Staples. You are worthy, the only truly worthy one, worthy, for a Staples.

                        No writing yet. I will, believe me. For now, my love and I wish I could write to you as I want to. I have many many dreams, and visions. We must have a tall slight lad, or plump gay girl, with few complexes and lots of love. And I demand, in your ingredients, I demand wit. Let there be wit.

What a nice telephone talk we had this evening, at the end of two hours of interviews with Sappers. I’m having each one in in turn, two hours an evening, to find out all about them, and look at their wife’s photographs – which they all produce when they’ve thawed out, and to tell me their troubles and lack of troubles.

               Heavy gloom lies over our happy Mess because of this trip to I. on the 22nd of February. Five blasted weeks of loading ammo. cases full of wet sand into ships when we could be discharging real cargo ! Hurtful to our sense of fitness, but it keeps a lot of regular sappers out of the war, the I. racket. Or so we, hurt at being disturbed, say.

                        A nice day, Orderly Stooge, and lots of looking into things, turning out of glitering Guards, and la-di-di-da. I am waiting now to go to turn out the Soldiery at eleven and then staff parade,

                        A lovely letter from D. Sadgrove, and another from you this afternoon. Glad about the invites and the notice on the Church Door, like Cranmer or someone declaring for Protestantism or something somewhere at some time or other, he did it on a church door.

                        Take Candy for walks, be nice to the chickenery, be nice to your mother, be nice to Dickie-Anne, be nice to me and to yourself and nice to everyone.Glad Marjorie Chapman came up. She’s a good lass, though heavy. Not so heavy as Ewart, though. How’s Marjorie Suffield, Christopher Mere.

                        Lockley is very well, and Dale and Tulloch.

                        Peter has a Dutch band playing at the Hall and everyone is amused about it, he’s so red and excited. I hope someone goes to make an audience.

                        Burrrr. Inverary in March !

                        The valise has come and is good and nice with vast straps which will look smart on the Humbers post war bonnet. A nice valise I must say, I must write something you know, plays and things, did I ever send you a copy of The Adventure have you got it if you have will you send it please for me to edit for the Harrap man and for the BBC who might as well have it don’t you agree, here is Bertha’s nice letter. This is an odd piece of paper thats all I have I’m afraid sorry about that.

                        Difficult phoning from Inverary. Very. But you can write there this time I’ll send the address.

                        You and a Staples make me a better bed than me and a camp bed, I’m cold o’nights without you to warm. Allan says this is a little box of words. Nice idea stop

                        I go to see to my doings militaire. All is well, if you are well. And you are aglow now with lovliness, little do you know how envied I am among men. Bless you for ever.

                        Fair thee well till tomorrow. Ever devotedly yours…

A heavenly day, crisp and sunny, and pleasantly spent really. Up betimes at half past seven and breakfast of bacon and egg on our polished table of which Harry is so scared, we have to spill nothing, nothing at all, and then all in our smartest raiment with Sam Brownes gleaming the four Subalterns and our Captain walked up to Vanderbyl Avenue where the company awaited us. The O.C. popped brightly out of his house and inspected everything, and then I took over the C of E parade and marched off at the head of a snakelike column of about two hundred and forty men, a vast parade. A grand march to Church, a harmless sermon and service, and back to the office till noon, then drinks in the sergeant’s Mess and home to dinner, and table tennis. At three Peter and I were established by the fire in deep chairs and he became sensible and we went walking for five miles, through neat little suburbia which suited our domestic trend of thought, and then through Lanes, past a Large Barnados school where we met a crocodile of little boys and I talked with them at great length, and was asked to visit by the Master and then round by Spital Cross roads and home to the Mess where Mrs. Granger, David and his Daddy were, with a grey pram outside the front door. Gret fun. Peter and I had talked domestic and children all our walk and now there was one, all shy and funny and comic and rather nice. They stayed for tea and everyone was kindly and Uncle this and Uncle that.
Peter has a baby,
Fauciett has a son one week old.
Speller is expecting
I am expecting
AND NOW HARRY, all coy and confidential in his bedroom, says his wife has hopes and has missed two as he puts it. WE ARE A LOT OF CLEVVER OFFICERS. Quite right that the O.C. should have a 2-year-old one and Allan the baby, be only engaged. Lusty lot, and who says the British Army is effete.

                        This is an office typer, I’m waiting for your call to come through. Hence vagaries which you will magically understand, I’m sure.

                        Mrs. Grainger sends her love and says that cat is quite better, the one with the eyes. David is nice but dumb bitch and plain, not like Dickie, who, being for me a dream and for you and invisible actuality, has all the virtues.

                        Barchester Towers is good reading, a lovely picture of the fifties of the last century, and quite exciting. Nice crisp living characterisation. Oh, Mrs. G. And the Major do want to read my books. Send the two last in the next parcel will you please.

                        For money I think Children’s Hour version of THE ADVENTURE and then something for Mrs. Matthews is the line to take, easiest if I can get a line. Think of some people for me to do, or another kind of thing. ? Great Moments in British History , ? If so what ? I know, the Crown Jewels. Where do I get the dope , the Vicar’s library or do you go to the Hansons for me and read it up for me in their Britannica ? That’s an idea. Or First Things From Britain. The first Railway, the first steamboat, the first printing Press, and so on. The first Lighthouse , (Eddystone) any good d’you think ? This ribbon’s gone gaga.

                        See if that’s any better.

                        After you have talked me on the telephone I’ll go back to the Mess, write a little letter or two to various folks, and then read and bed.

                        Meanwhile, dearest, I love cherish and want you. Bless you my sweet.

                                                        A letter came from you this morning, which shows how quickly Postie comes from there to here. A dear letter, brilliant in its atmosphere and wit and love and good sense, lively understanding and perception which, are rare qualities and all gifts of yours. I have read it thrice, and shall again before I go to sleep.

                                My journey was quite pleasant,  Barchester Towers made it so, though at times I gazed out of the window and considered all that I had left behind me, seeing again that memorable glimpse of you, in green, charming and unique with a golden coloured dog on a lead, in the midst of the quiet unassumingly homely background of Alcester, as the bus bore me towards Birmingham.

                                Never have I been mere deeply happy and more richly aware of my good fortune than during this week at home. You are so brave and gay, and so sweet and fresh. And we had our walks with our dog, our home, our friends, and above all our dreams, tangible almost, of the future. Do you remember how we discussed this, and felt deeply that had we faith, the blessing would come ? A year ago, when you were sad and feared that we should not achieve the ultimate desire of all true lovers, to see flesh of their flesh, spirit of their spirit, and to taste immortality therein ? And now, God willing, we shall be so blessed. I only wish I could be with you always in these vital months, caring for you and loving you.

                                Dearest you.

                                The day has been pleasant. I arrived soon after nine and at once plunged into Table tennis with Peter, and then to bed. This is a well arranged place, It lacks only curtains, carpets and a woman’s skill to make it complete. I slept in my camp bed, in very masculine blankets, and thought of you as I lay there and dreamed of you and thought of you when I woke up.

                                Everyone is friendly and gay and kind and teasing, and, bless them, pleased to see me. You know that ridiculous screed I sent Peter about the SPPPS ? Well, there was a visit from group people in the evening, Majors and Captains galore, and they all read it and want a copy ! Treason. I shall be Court Martialled.

                        This afternoon the sun shone and there was no work to do and I felt vague and unsettled and should have written, but I was afraid of the melancholy, so Peter and Allan and I, and a second lieutenant attached to us for a week, mild and straight from OCTU, named Lane, went to Liverpool on the Ferry, – echoes of your footsteps on the deck – and to tea at Fullers. We found all the Cinemas too full and dull as well so we came back. We read by the fire and listened to the Radio and then I came up here to our room to write this and here I am.

                                                A  nice letter from Frank Sadgrove  this  morning,, to whom I wrote asking him to renew my overdraft guarantee to the end of the year, which he did. Also a nice one from Bertha. She gives me permission to use The Adventure but hasn’t a copy to spare ? Have you ? I didn’t think so.

                                Letters enclosed – I hope.

                                I find it difficult to think of anything but the affaire of August. The dreams of all my youth and manhood. There will be no prouder Father in this Kingdom, nor in any other.

                                The biggest pang was being alone on Spital station, where we have walked so often, carefree and loving each other. God bless you.

                        That extravagance at Whitlocks frightens me, I must “write it off”. But if I am away from you for a long time you may as well have a good picture and they do make the best of the job. Don’t tell anyone the price, please ! Four proofs will come, and I don’t know if you choose one to have four prints of, or can have a print of each or two of one and one of two others or what. When they come telephone them and ask them that point. One for you, one for Mother , and what of the other two ? Eileen ? Your mother ? Auntie Edie ? Jack Lawrence – I rather think so, he is so fond of us and we owe him so much. Ask them if they do little ones. I doubt it. They think big. They’ve pictures they’ve taken of the King, and all the Lord Mayors and Nuffield and all manner of people, money and no looks, you know.

                        I must arrest my desire to write on and on. I love you greatly. I have many more memories to store up now, walks, your brave nose, clear and sweetly cut, your profile, your new radiance which is enchanting.

                        God bless and keep you, be careful, quiet and orderly and burgeon as the Spring comes.

Tail-piece.
A man bought a parrot for his daughter and the young lady hung it in her bedroom. When she undressed at night the parrot swung about and said”OOOO….Oooooo…OOOoooo. I could do you…” This disturbed the young lady and she told her father and he took the parrot back to the shop. “Ah, said the man, “that’s because he misses his pal, an owl who always hung next to him. Have the owl and all will be well. So the man bought the owl and went home, and the parrot was rehung in the bedroom and the owl on the opposite side of the room. That night when the young lady undressed the same thing happened,  Ooooooo.. .Oooooooo.”  said the Parrot, swinging about, “Ooooooo…I could do you”. Whereupon the owl flew about in great glee and said “Whooooooo.. .WhWhooooooo .” But the parrot said,”I don’t mean you, you flat faced Bastard….”

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