1224/5 Shipworking Sections R.E. C.M.F.
No. 178
My Dearest,
A batch of letters yesterday from across the .mountains, my mother, Jack Lawrence and you. Bless you all. Two from Mama, Both written at Great Alne. Dear you all. Your letter was during the visit too. My mother has never by word or hint, or even in between the lines, given me the impression that she has anything but the very highest opinions of your maternal capabilities. She says definitely how wonderfully you are doing it and I am sure she understands how you must manage your own young your way, and admires the results. So don’t worry your pretty head about that. She does like your son Richard, and is obviously very moved by the whole affair. Bless you. She was so happy there, but I do wish she’d stay a bit longer when these terrific visits come off. Jacks letter was admiring too, he thinks you’re a hell of a wow of a mama, and I bet Richard does as well, I do. It’s a good thing to do superbly. But so much you do well. Your singing, you know, is one of the tenderest memories I have, your voice is so modest and so true, and you do love what you sing. I think, with some nostalgie, quite often of your Steamboat Bill, and Lost in a Fog, and I do want a bow-wow-wow. And your other songs. Sing to me again.
I’ve been very honest and unmodest about my glee and satisfaction at having a third pip and a command. Its a measure of our complete mutual confidence, because to know one else could I commit such bad form. I am, to the world, indifferent, apologetic and blase. Only to you do I wag my tail and say, Look aren’t I clever. Which shows I love you, and moreover, shews that I know how much you love me? .Never betray me!
A word about Felix, (with a grave accent). He is my Batman, and is inordinately proud of himself. He’s not batted before, but shines with pleasure and enthusiasm. He cleans hard and scrubs and polishes and puts things just as I want them. He speaks fluent Arabic, good French and a little Italian, and no English. I speak fairly good English, quite good Italian, rusty French and very little Arabic, but we manage. He likes his special body servant duties, i.e. he sleeps near my room, and whenever I go out he comes and guards the truck while I’m doing whatever business I have. On the road he gets agitated at any civilian who looks at the road, waves people away with imperial gestures and mutters in Kurds or Whey at any driver who tries to use the same road. He can’t drive, but he’s a magnificent watchdog. He assured me today, after looking coy, that the Syrians are all grateful to Allah for sending them so good an O.C. I don’t think that’s a line, because he says they brought it up in the Mosque. And we all grin so broadly at each other whenever we meet. I hope so, because they are likeable. But I’ve already sent seven over the wall for fourteen or twenty one days Field Punishment, and only let one off in my orderly rooms. But there’ve been none for three days. Maybe its working. My policy is to take care to be sure if they are morally in the wrong, if they knew they were risking punishment, and then, if I am convinced over that to give them the maximum punishment. To the good boys, 95% and I want it 99% one is affable and kind-fatherly. Anyhow I’m going to be bloody unpopular in the Mess soon, because my three officers are decent quiet non-drinking (I mean non hard drinking) stay at home, write to the wife enthusiastic men. But the officers of the other company with whom we Mess drink like fishes, make the place into a drinking haunt of undesirable Majors and officers of other units, run up mess bills under Mess Guests headings, and bring in distasteful females after Sergeants Dances. Against all this I am raising the standard of revolt, and to my surprise I find that not only are my own chaps with me 100 % but some of the others, they didn’t like to protest it seems. So there will be fun. but the new mess is to be as quiet, restful and homely as we can make it and not a drinking booth with Brothel attachments. So! 1021 standards in fact.
Your letter told of nine quid for ams @ 71 which just shows, it goes on and on that Book. If we had a dozen like that it would be helpful. We shall, I wonder if he’ll do TTOTS2 again. I must go on with essays for Parrots and Monkeys, I’m doing one now called She Played the Piano. Monkeys and Parrots must be the title of an essay, he first. Mr. Careless had rung up and said we were nice and black. This extra 4/6 a day will help. But I must spend little and write much. How’s Dickie’s finances?
I got all broadcasting yesterday, The colonel has made me Group Radio Liaison Officer and I took a team of four down and we did a Radio quiz on the Army Broadcasting Service. We’re going to do several things, I liaised with the radio man there, and made friends and we’re going to play together. Fun. Can you hear me mother kind of thing.
We found a wasp’s nest in one of the men’s huts today. Tell me what do they make if its not honey, they have a queen and live together in a honeycomb thing and go out to work, Ronnie says what do they to eat all winter and why not honey. I said you’d know. Come on, your good at Nachure. My god you are. Bless Dickie and golden Candy and love on… I’ll be there.
Ever – David XXX
1Mornings at Seven
2The Time of The Singing