This is being written on the very pleasant veranda of the officers club, where I have dined free in my capacity as Duty Officer. It’s 8o/c &   & the setting sun has tinged the sea & little boats ply & countless civilians promenade along the esplanade at our feet. The Mess is blessedly remote & so are our troubles. As for our troubles a masterly report laid on the Colonels desk this afternoon finished those & we sit back & await orders. 70 of my men are behind bars, & 300 behind barbed wire & 100 remain, very dutiful & eager to please, in camp ! Heigh ho. It’s been a reet rare do & I’m now my old self & full of fun. The Colonel was kind enough to offer me a weeks special leave at a specially luxurious hotel at Amalfi this afternoon. I may take it. And relax. Just relax like billio, & bathe & eat & sleep & read Tolstoy. I’ve to decide by tomorrow. If I go I go next week.

                        Your two page letter of the 26th came today, bless you. Dickie had been out with Irene Fletcher. Is she really safe ? I mean, the responsibility. But I expect you have thought of that. His polite enquiries as to the bathroom amenities at his hostesses house is charming. You devote a whole much read page to an enchanting description of him with the observation that Lanave would like to paint him. How blessed are we to have him. I’ll try so very hard to be worthy of him. Yes, we’ll do our best not to nurture him, but to let natural tendencies be directed & not controlled. These shall be free & we’ll all be honest. As best we can. I’ll offer him friendship & generous collaboration. Candy shall arbitrate !

Note re: letter to D. Davis absorbed

                        A few days of storms we’ve had. But it’s sunny & hot again. All is peaceful in our domestic life.- at last.

                        Oh, do order the John Cotton please, urgently. I do like it. Better than any other tobacco. And pipes are so much better than cigarettes.

                        My poor stupid arabs ! They had got it all wrong, & let themselves be carried away to a point when we had to show them that the British army was not a  or easily defied army.

                        How does Candy feel about puppies ? Seems an idea. Ask her & Uncle Gold. Merely an idea. We’re friendly with the Avery Hancock family just now.

                        No more news. A great deal of love. The alarum & Excursions of last week are over now so have no anxiety.

                         Still your precious letters come popping onto my table, bless you. They are infinitely valuable. All is settling down here & we are very busy sorting facts, separating fact from Fiction & seeking Truth. I think I have two gifts – of going more full out than other people & afterwards of being more tired than anyone. I have 18 hours sleep every day & run up a bothersome temperature in between but I’m not ill & I’m getting better every day. There has been much to do & much report – writing & I’ve been most busy, but all is well. In a few days the position will be clear, all facts tied up in little bundles & maybe I’ll relax for a few days. But what a Time it’s been ! The compensation has been the loyalty of all the British & the extraordinary niceness of the Col, the Brigadier & even the General. O.C. It’s all wheels within wheels !

                        Someday I’ll tell you the whole story.

                        Your delightful family letter came yesterday, bless you all. It was written on the 23rd, our first day of trouble. Little did you know of how unpeaceful I was !

                        From Avery came a very sparkling letter, please to thank him. He said, apropos of cricket “It’s six years since I even broke into a trot” ! A good remark. He describes your son as “a little boy of great charm”. Bless us, I do wonder about him. From all reports he seems to be so very nice. But then, being your baby how could he be otherwise !) As Avery says, No one is going to write to an absentee father that “your son is a completely bloody little bounder”. He adds, hand on heart that mine is charming.

                        Yes I’ve been seeing the Col. off & on & a great deal this last week ! He’s going home in a few weeks time to be civilised ! Very excited. A very friendly soul.

                        No news – I mean, so very much, nothing of domestic interest. I’m not in a very lettery mood, but very fond.

                                    Bless you all, & you above all

Several days must have elapsed since I wrote last, and it seems like a month,  – I’ve lived through the longest four days I’ve ever known, since Salerno anyhow !  All is over now and peace reigns, with seventy men in goal, three hundred behind barbed wire and a very eager-to-please thirty in the camp !  And I am now getting out of the most profound weariness I have ever known !  It was a very busy time, and I had six hours sleep over the three nights, and those hours fitful and aware, revolver at hand !  It is too long a story to tell now,  later maybe.  Full of incident, and days of strain, tense electric atmosphere, and infinite wariness.  Now comes the Clearing Up and the Working Out.

                        One consolation is the very charming comments passed by the Brigadier after it was over when not only did he not blame but went out of his way to praise in the most moving way, and that helped a lot.  One was very sad all the time, the silly juggins  (90% of them)  (The other 10% were deeply stained with evil ) did not know what they were doing and thought they had a case. One saw their point of view,  and patient explaining, tireless reasoning, tricks of selecting special ones and teasing them, and an outward calm and nonchalance which was all artificial, failed, and in the end we had to call on force, and real force,  five hundred fully armed Infantry and there we were.  Bless us all, life is far from dull.   It was so much more calm in the peaceful days of war !  It was ironical that in one of the charmlng letters which came from you in that timeless period asked if the troubles in Syria and Lebanon upset the men at all. The answer was Yes. Don’t broadcast this, we don’t want Questions in the House, say only we’ve had a little trouble with the arabs if you want to say anything.  In the densest moments in my office, where I lived throughout the time, I achieved two nonsense children’s hour letters to Mother and Auntie Edie  !   I couldn’t write to you.  Since Friday I’ve slept most of the time, and in between have written a seven thousand word report on the whole show. Everyone is being magnificent, Johnny and Ronnie, and even Derek’s officers. Derek and I went about like Siamese twins, and he was blessedly leadable.  So that is that.   Our only hope of Good out of Evil is that the War Office will want us for a Court of Inquiry, but that’s being too optimistic. But Mutiny is an ugly word, and no Commanding Officer likes to have his men doing it, especially when they are simple minded and just want to go home. But they were silly and went too far, I read the Mutiny Act,  and gave them many chances, and they were working up for real trouble.  It was a do.  Great Alne Committees will be easy to cope with now.

                        Enough of my affairs. I am well, I find, though I thought I was going to curl up when it was over and go Malarial. Now I move quietly and sleep a lot.  Much to make up yet.

                        A host of dear little letters came from you, and they were blessed indeed.  About tobacco. Yes I like Gold Block but most of all I like JOHN COTTON and would like you to telegraph, telephone or write swiftly for a pound of that,  John Cotton above all please. The Gold Block I’ll use half of and sell the other half. Who does do Country Life ? That would do as 2nd string.

                        You spoke of Chris coming in with two hullos and “England aren’t doing very well”. Bless the man, England has just done very well, but perhaps he didn’t notice it. Blessed are the simple in heart.

                        Oh, did the prints from Florence come ? The framed one for Dickie and the little printed miniatures and the unframed prints ?  Some Arte Sacra Nuova ones and some Masters ?  I sent them off from here ages ago. The framed one is for Richards room someday.  You haven’t mentioned them yet.

                        Nice letter from Honor and also Arthurs. Yes I wrote at once to him.  He looks the same from his handwriting.  What a blessing to have him back.  When is he out of the army ?

No more now, I’ll write again tomorrow. Now for bed, to catch up some more sleep.  Dear me, we do have fun,  of all sorts.  This is a questionable kind,  but was an unusual experience and one not to be courted again.  This Empire problem is not as simple as the theorists imagine.  Don’t worry, all is over and everyone who was harmful is behind bars or wire and is very chastened.

I love these little one page letters that come fluttering in with every post, they delight & enchant me. Two today, none yesterday. First, I’m so very glad Arthur is home & I hope he’s not badly mauled spiritually by his experiences. It was a rotten war for him. I’ve just written to him. Send more news when you get it. Yesterday I doodled off a Thing for Good Housekeeping & sent it to direct to them, to be homed if necessary to you. You might whaffle it to something similar if there are such things, even Strand or such like. I don’t know. Bless us all. I also sent yet more me – pictures, two taken at the VE feast & one before it by a stray Syrian. Do with them as you deem fit.

                        A pause. I’ve won a day long nerve battle ! Much relieved. Arising out of the stoning yesterday were three orderly rooms, silly soldiers who incited to mutiny. One got 21 days F.P.C. & the others 14 C.B. Their mates & one cpl decided that I was unjust – they were wrong, & put themselves in the guard room & refused food announcing that they would starve until I withdrew the punishments. Public opinion was delicately poised & then went my way, but everyone was watching to see. I naturally  them & the battle of nerves was on. Now I have just heard they’ve all come out & asked for their supper, so authority wins & all is well. A trying day nevertheless & incidentally whit Monday. All talks & harangues & then stony impassivity. It’s fine training for being a father to a strong willed little boy !

                        I was very charmed with your observations on R.J.S.D., how you think he really knows about me & knows about my clothes & things. That’s brilliant work by you, & very generous work too. And Marjorie thinks that if I walked in he’d know me. Bless us all.

                        Yes, do apprentice him to Christopher for cricket. It’s a fine sane game & I do hope Great Alne gets a really live club after the war. I’ll do all I can for it.

                        Sad affair in the Lebanon. If the French keep their word to the Syrians & do not give them at least outward independence, we shall take the control back. The Syrians hate the Fr. & deserve our leadership.

                        I must make my rounds as I’m duty officer. See how my babies are. I was touched by your report of Dickie’s dawn chorus of “Mummy wake up! Kiss’er. Ay yo Mummy. Daddy Kiss ‘in.” A truly delightful opening for a happy day.

Good indeed, A gay letter. With the same post came two unsolicited testemonials from Frank Saddy and from Eleanor Bailey, both cracking up that ridiculous child of yours and saying he is unusual, is good, is forward, and is nice. Frank related with care how the boy produced a hammer and said it was a hammer. Well, so it was ! I mean, is Frank Nuts or am I. And Eleanore says all sorts of gracious things, I believe none of them, and expect that the child, If there ever was one and it isn’t a mass-hysterical mirage, is no cleverer than Our Gerald, and deserves 14 days Field Punishment, But people do get bewitched. Funny.

            So you’ll want me to go a-courtlng, eh ? All over again ? Say I failed this time. And does that mean a trip to the Broads ? What about Mines ? We’ll see. Yes indeed there are many rumours about the place, and the latest computations put 24 group, mine and a very popular one, at February next. That seems a long way off to me. But they also say up to 26 by the end of the year. I don’t know, we’ll see. And even that doesn’t mean we have to wait until then before we come home, if only for a trip. Wow.

            Just fitted a nice new mosquito net over my bed, all new and complete, I’ve got a mesh screen over my window and infuriated winged beasties peer in and scowl.

            Officish morning and then with Ronnie to the dock and called on Lanave on the way back, and he brought Mrs. Channon away and has her in his room to gloat over, before sending it to his mother-in-law, his wife is nursing in Paris. Its a very good portrait.

            Cheery letter from the Christopher today, in which le naively apologies for his handwriting and promises to have it mended for next September, He asks hopefully where he will find a desk with my name carved on it. I hope he doesn’t cite me as an authority when he is caught defacing school pcoperty. He claims to have taken five wickets for one run, which beats my best of three for two. But my present analysis of sixteen for 165 beats his anyhow. Yah. I’ll damn well play in the Old Boys Match in 1950 and get him out. So there. And in 1962 when Dickie is playing. Yah. Dickie’s Daddy’s Mother’s courtier isn’t past it.

            There are some Russians in camp nearby and they sing in a most disturbingly alcoholic way far into the night and snoop round the back door of our mess thinking its a civilian villa to buy vino. The dogs go for them – Flower and her grown up son Robert, and we make go away signs with our hands, smiley folk but not very sharp.

            Mother is touched about the cheque but still carries it about with her, and has now decided that she can’t pay it into the bank, not even into our joint account, she is stupid, but very nice. She claims to be better and to be going slowly and promises to let half of the house and so be free to come and go. Selling it would not be good, because of the worry of getting another place, the moving in and the fact that she’d miss her home.

            So sorry to hear that Mr. Lloyd is dead. Is Mrs, Lloyd alive still ? If so I’ll write to her. Let me know that without fail. A good man, Mr. Lloyd, and always Mr. Lloyd. He had dignity and quietness and sense.

            Its fun making plans, so what do we do when I come home, primarily. Empty the house and stay there, go away to some unlikely place or what ? Obviously we must go to Kettering right away, aftert two-three days and then back and do nothing for a week or so but walk about and sit and let me look at you.  I shall get about ninety days leave on full pay !

            Just had a good solid look at the picture of you and him in the sliver frame. What a very attractive pair of people you are to be sure. Bless you both. Dobblamo avere la pacienza.

An ordlnary letter yesterday, posted on the 11th, as quick as the old air letters. You say you’ll send these shorter ones and oftener which is a lovely idea and thankyou very much. You told me of the little basket Mrs. Butler had had made for Dickie, and described Dickie and Edward playing Ring an ring of Roses.  You also sent Francesco’s letter which I will have by me and deliver if I go anyhwre near Rome or even send by civilian post. Don’t see why not. I will.

                        A nice Careless letter today, saying we had a hundred and fifty of the best in the bank, from which mother’s fifty will be deducted. I hope she will use it and not leave it in our joint account. It will anyhow give her something to use if she can bring herself to.

                        Yesterday…let me see. Dockyard office, office afternoon and a careful tour with me new sergeant major, Hardee who sent the silk, was Staff Sergeant, now has the poached egg in place of Samuel Bebbington gone home on Python. In the evening we had some net practise and then I went at half past eight to my Gaon family. Amused the children and put them to bed, and told them the Three Bears in Italian, and then listened to the news from London on their Radio, that was before their bedding down, drank some vino and tried to point out to them that if Tito tries to use force to get his own way he will be dealt with just as Hitler was for the same reason, and that there is time for discussing Trieste when tempers have cooled and food and medicines are brought into Europe, and then we talked of this and that, ate cherries and home by 11 o’clock. Office and out to Staff A at Area and JAG about a FGCM we have on Tuesday, and then cricket this afternoon against some nice gunners. I failed with four runs, but took three wickets for 24 so that’s all right. This evening, cricket talk and a trip to the docks and here I am.

                        It has just occurred to me how much easier it will be, if Dickie talks and understands English. The few young friends I have made here all speak Italian.  It will make things so very much easier if he can understand English, bless the boy.

                        One of my men, named Omar, asked me to stand for him recently and took a snapshot. He presented me with it yesterday and a large enlargement. Here is the snap, for Mother Anne, and the enlargement is coming on its own. Not very good but a touching thought of the soldier. They will bring me buches of roses now, because I once thanked someone for them on my desk, also strange fruits. Odd lot, they are somehow getting very affectionate and pleased, in a personal way. And the things I give them in Company Office,  a rummy lot. You’d love them, especially the naughty ones.

                        One knows nothing, but it seems to me that my group will be out of the army for good and all by next February. That doesn’t mean we’ll be overseas until then. It might be that we come home in the Autumn, have leave, and then do Depot or reforming work until our group comes up. Early groups are off right away I think. They’ll get home and out and that’ll mean many changes. It’s all very much a state of flux just now.

                          Patience, and faith, the worst is over, anyhow, one has survived. Bless us all.

                          Bless you, too, and write whenever you can even little notes.

                        Two letters, one yesterday sent off on the 7th. and the other today sent on the 10th. Good Indeed. Much about our good Dickie, for whom I have many thoughts and fancies, all of which he will doubtless disprove when we know each other. But I think we’ll come to a working agreement, and may even become amiably disposed to each other. In the first letter you say that he is embarking on a new phase, talking, chattering, asking questions and shewing signs of needing the more robust handling of a father. But how does a father handle ? How does one learn. Not to snap I know, not to spoil one minute and freeze the next. Its diffiult. Maybe he will help. Candy will be a useful introduction, anyhow. I loved his squiggle on the letter and his drawing of a cat in pencil on todays. You also talk of Ve day, and of Church and then the Crown at Haselor with Marjorie and Frank and with Grandpa Squawk there. A nice thought and a good thing to do on such a day. I love the dialogue between Joe Court and Anderton. Bless us all.

                        Your second letter dealt with Mother, in answer to my anxieties on that score. I think she really is being sensible now, and Auntie is adopting her, which is a blessing for them both. Mother’s spirit is so much stronger than her physical ability. If she can let part of the house she will have money, which she is so proud about, and still have the home in theory, and yet be able to stay with Auntie and with us. She couldn’t get rid of the place, her one solid link with life, and she likes her indpendence, but by letting it she can have it and be free to be cared for. Her life has been a very courageous one, and she has kept her end up through a series of difficult innings and quite spoiled me into the bargain.

                        For my doings. . . no before that, thankyou for your swift and understanding cooperation in “endorsing” the cheque as you so neatly put it.

                        Yesterday I declared a personal holiday, left Johnny in charge and took Ronnie with Allan and me for an Allan jaunt. We took the truck and left at eight, and drove 120 miles into the mountains, Potenza and then off the main road to a little town Allan had selected from the map as a likely place for his leave. It was, strangely enough, & dream town, small and untouched by the war, dogs ran barking and children fled before us. It is built on  steps and is old and clean with a tree girt Piazza and everything. We found the Albergo, which is sheer medieval, one vaulted communal kitchen and scoured copper pans, and bedrooms with large copious double beds and Balconies, and then we walked through the town, followed by a large crowd of gaping young. We saw strange little houses and a weaving loom in a kitchen and an ancient vaulted tavern where we had a glass or two of the best wine I’ve drunk In Italy, and the Padrone would take no money as we were British and they see so very few, and then we drove back and arrived at eight o’clock. Blazing sun of course and all very jolly.

                        This morning I was busy in the office and this afternoon cricket against a new foe and an exciting game, but disastrous as we got them out for 62 and then only got 58 ourselves, but it was nice and dramatic. Also it was sunny and we enjoyed ourselves.

                        Tomorrow they say there will be news of the Release Scheme. Us 24s will have to bide our time, of course, but they may have a spot of air-leave or something later on. Everyone is unamimous about the desirability of going home, and its only a matter of transportation plus military requirements. I don’t know what will happen. There will be many changes, anyhow, in the set-up. Meanwhile we are taking comfort in much cricket and cheerfullness.

                        A nice letter from your mama today too, written on V day, in which she says nice things about both you and Richard, which always make good reading. Bless her for the letter please.

                        You talk of Mary coming, and being on good terms with Richard. Good. I can’t quite visualise the new life yet, and am slightly apprehensive about the sheerly practical need for the good Mary. But maybe it will help in the duller side of making a good living, and help in the writing out of gooder work. We must see. We can try anyhow. Many mouths to feed, and one growing larger as the years pass of course. We’ll see. First a settling in period. Oh dear.

                        My love, my dear. Write whenever you can. My real life is there, with you. And I am so proud of and happy in my son.

1224/5  Shipworking  Sections  R.E.  C.M.F.

My Dearest. . . . .Today I have sent you off a letter by ordinary envelope and as I want to write again, for the sake of writing, I’ll send one of these and see which wins or if they make a dead heat of It.   Let me know.

Today came a letter from Thomson – I mentioned it in my envelope letter.   He sent one for Lanave which I took along and translated, and an enchanting snap of his small son Stewart, about eight or nine I should think, and his niece about the same, both sitting on picturesque rocks in a Scottish stream, quite naked, dabbling their feet in the water.   The trees, all fluffy and obviously green, the cold rushing water and the hills is very British as are the children.   He is delighted with his pictures and the portrait   Lanave did of him. The portraits of Channon’s wife and Evans wife are finished, signed and varnished and are very good indeed.    Bless the man.

Bertha sent a cheery letter, too, and I was ashamed to have done nothing for her, I must. She did not chide. I see that she has collected a half guinea royalty, too!   Just shows.   First swallow.

Also letters from Auntie and Mother, which were in a brighter vein than before.    So there we are, oh and a parcel of Lilliputs etc from D Sadgrove.   And your M.O.I, books came, and I remember asking you and they will be valuable as reference books if we refer to the war ever. I have not much inclination, but have got a lot of thoughts about the European peoples who are in a bad way and unhappy. Lanave was sad, he said when the British go from Italy there will be war again. The ignorant ones who like trouble because they cannot work of themselves, only as employees of political bodies, the ones who were Fascists are now Communists and are waiting to make everyone be communists or else to cause trouble.   He complains that there is no tolerance outside Great Britain, and that the masses are foolish and empty and must either create trouble because they are communists or else because they are anti. He wonders why peoples cannot be like the British, smile at life and let people go their own ways.  It was the same story the Yugo-Slav Gaon family had.   The British have a tremendous power just now, moral power and we must be patient and understanding and stand up for the rights of the Individual, just as we stood up against Nazidom.    If Russia refuses to be tolerant over Poland and allow really free elections we must either be prepared to fight, or else all these past six years are wasted. I think it will come right, if we have courage and if we think ourselves.    If Everyman at home will be as kindly and as wise as he is overseas dressed as a sapper a gunner or a sailor all will come well. If he changes into one of a crowd who will yelp at the bayings of “Leaders” who cash in on phrases, then the world will be lost, Lanave is a quiet honest craftsman, but he dreads the future.   But as I said in the other letter, War does not create Peace, It makes the conditions wherein peace can be won. It forges the weapon of peace, It has to be tempered by great wisdom afterwards.    The war is nothing, it belongs to the old wrongfullness, and the purpose of war begins now.    If only people will realise that and not consider that the defeat of a challenged aggressor is not the end but the end of the overture, but what can one do?   Faith is all.   Free and secret elections (Secret ballot I mean) and no fraudulent preaching is necessary.   Few peoples other than our own dare leave it to that.   But this is nothing to do with us, now.

Cricket tomorrow against a South African team and I am to open the bowling! It is a great thrill. I have always got the first wicket, the stickers, and have three a match and Ronnie, who is a Club cricketer and very shrewd, a class above ours, seems to think my attack can do things.    It remains to be seen.    Oh dear.

Yes, Trieste is difficult. The Italians are already tending to have Student Parades with banners! An old theme.  The Yugo-Slavs want it.  I think the New Zealanders should have it, they captured it. Britain should take Florence because the Florentines are different. Great Alne should remain Mill Property.  And Leonard to Barcelona. He’d better be careful.   Leonard Beare I suppose. I adopted two South African officers, Air Force, last night at the pictures (Laughton of the Bounty starring Henry VIII) and brought them back for beer. So very nice they were, both Captains, fly Liberators. Sane and intelligent about their problems. I sounded them deeply.    I do believe in this Commonwealth and New Zealanders and the British South Africans are the best I think. Not met many Australians yet. I’ll cultivate them.   Canadians are nice except they tend to chew gum. Johnny Feaver thinks the Russians are all quite disinterested and selfless and all British are selfish, place-seeking, Big Business, Fascistic and mean. Except Maxton and Gallacher. But he’s a Civil Servant and they’re all nervous of life.

Without Prejudice, without any knowledge, without any idea at all I believe I may get home in the early Autumn.    I don’t know but that’s I what I think.   So that’s not so bad.   You must get you mama end of the war conscious now, poor dear.   And tell Richard the days of Freedom are numbered and he’ll Have To Look Out One of These Days.    Bless us what is it like having him there.    I’ll try my wonderings on a Thing for Good Housekeeping.    But nevertheless I love you very very much. Ever. . David xxxx
Candy comes out well in the garden pictures.
Richard Dick is kind to bother about you. I wonder what confused mental picture he really has.

1224/5 Shipworking sections RE. CMF.

 Dearest:
So we have had the counterpart of our day in the hills in 1939! The Germans have paid for defying our order not to invade Poland, & we are alive, no parachutists have descended on Great Alne & I am unharmed! All this is a matter for thankfulness. But for me the finale is not yet; it is when I walk into the house again and find you there, & Candy, & so I am led to believe, an extra male member of the family.

We had our “VE” day on Wednesday; and a very exhausting day it was, too! On Tuesday we had an ordinary day, yet different. All the morning arranging the celebration for the soldiers & in the afternoon a happy game of cricket. On Wednesday we had a parade & broke a brand new & very proud Union Jack on the top of a new 40 foot flag pole & then the men marched off while we prepared the camp. We hung R.N. signal flags all over the lines & set tables arranged in a gigantic horse shoe so that all 500 could sit down at once. The men came back and sat down, the Col & party came for drinks in my office & then we perambulated & chatted to the men who feasted prodigiously. Many had splendid bellyaches by 4 o/c. Then they had an???? concert in the evening & that was that.

I called on the G— family, the Bari branch, in the evening, & romped mildly with Leonardo & Michelino & flirted with Bianca until they went to bed, me assisting. Then we all drank vino & ate little yugoslav cakes, & talked. The end of the war is nought personally to them. Rosa, the mother of the boys, has “lost” her husband and three sisters in Concentration camps & they have no Yugoslavia to return to, it being violently communist & they being more of the “Freedom from Fear” advocated in the Atlantic Charter! They rejoiced that the end of the killing had come & that the evil was over. But like millions of other ‘Displaced Persons’ they are still lost. Pathetically they ask if they can get to Britain, where the eyes of all hunted and persecuted people turn. They are contenting themselves with America. It is a very choice honour to be free born British. Only by meeting others can we realise that.  This family, Jews, unjewish & very cultured have suffered very harshly. They are haunted by the Concentration Camp & are terrified of Communism, and carry little red handkerchiefs as an insurance in an emergency. They have known so little tolerance in life, and now it is tolerance in the world we must pray for. To comfort them I produced an epigram- “War does not make peace, it only makes peace possible.”

Thompson writes today that the pictures have arrived. I’ll see Lanave this afternoon with the glad news. Your Friday- Saturday letter came while I was writing this. Bless you. People were telephoning and asking when I come home. Ah when. We have work to do. Garrisoning Italy & Austria, Greece & so on, and feeding the troops. Feeding also the Italians & other nations. And my Arabs may be sent to SAEC for all I know & I’d have to get them to Mideast, ?????? them & hand them over. So we must plod happily on and be patient. The time will come. Certainly the finish of Hostilities is a very important step in the right direction. So ?????? the ???????. So good the little compact arrived. It is very Florentine, & has the Florin arms. Has it 6 Balls? If so that’s Medicis, or was it a fleur de lys with 2 lilies and a bun? They are Florenes?

Yes you’ll come to Florence, & Boheme, & San Carlos, & Lanave. I think I’ll send a box of things home. First swallow:

                                    Bless you. All my love. “I’ll be seeing you”

                                                Ever David X

 
Dearest….So It is over. Its been a busy day. We are having our V Day tomorrow, and we had to arrange it all.  So I addressed the men on parade and sent them off on a march, there being no work for us. Then we summonned Corporal Yazbek, our gallant Cook, and dug out all reserve of rations, and arranged for the Feast tomorrow, to be eaten in a large horsehoe on the Parade Ground, We have a parade at 10, they march off, to be met at half time with lemonade In a truck, and then they return to the lines which by then will be decorated with 80 Navy flags, and the tables all out. They eat vastly of meat and maccaroni, lemons and dried fruits, eggs and fresh fruit, with vino, beer and lemonade, and the Colonel comes and all officers are sergeants attend, and Arab music is played by our Guitar orchestra. Then they sleep or see our own film show till 7.30 and then an arabic concert got up by themselves.  So there we are.

                        Today we celebrated this afternoon with cricket in lovely sunshine and I bowled again and really surprised myself.  A good game and exciting, though we lost.  This evening I spent in the camp, and went to the open air cinema and they were all there- being C.B* because of the Italians being mad with celebration of their Great Victory In town, and the silly touching men all called for three cheers and clapped at Derek and I. We heard the King’s speech in the little bar of the sappers canteen, and then to the Mess for drinks and here I am.

                        Its been a busy day but we have all thought of you at home. This is now a step achieved, and our union cannot be too remote. You know what that means to us, and to me, having you and that Richard to come home to. We must be patient, and to me it is still a dream and not closely related to fact.  Then I shall have my V Day.  But it is grand to think that no longer do aircraft here carry bombs, but food or passengers, and that my steel helmet is now out of date.  The men will want to go home to Syria and we shall have to handle them carefully to keep them from getting sit-down-and-wont-budge-y.  I think they understand the situation. However, we shall wait and see, and be patient.

                        This is a little letter only, to send my love and because this day of all days I had to write to you, for whom I have thoughts always, and without whom I am but half alive.