I fear you’ll have a letterless day on Wednesday – tomorrow, because we were on the range all day today & got home, wet & tired, at 4.30 & the post goes at 5o/c. And my yesterday letter was posted at 5o/c & dear old Arthur & I went to the Garrison theatre to see the film Span & Co, so there was no letter last night. Forgive me. If letters fail sometimes my love does not.

                        It rained peacefully & softly all day on the range but it was very pleasant. They marched there, 4 miles each way. I, more dignified, rode in the Ammo wagon. We fired 50 rounds each:-

All very pleasant. I did averagely well I think, the scores aren’t announced yet. No disgrace, no particular glory. Our officer has arrived from Bothwell & was with us. A comic faced full Lt. named Freschville, age maybe 32. He seems harmless & human. His personality affects our lives a great deal, as he is responsible for us now until we leave Bothwell. Personal interviews follow & gradually he’ll to get to know us all. He marched with the class today.
The soft  water here makes my hair all curly, I’m very intrigued about yours & shall look eagerly to admiring it – & deranging it. But all alterations must be treated carefully. We like the present form & arrangement of all of you so much.

                        Yes, the tent might be difficult. I’m on the track of a room in Barton for Sunday, so we sleep at Romsey on the Saturday, at B/S on the Sunday, & on one other evening, depends on the S/O passes, & at B/S on the Friday & R. on the second Saturday. In between you go to R. & see the Relatives.

                        The handful idea in Scotland seems very desirable. We’ll discuss it & find out about it. Anyhow you may be asked to stay at B/W’s.

The ankle get imperceptibly better every day. It still “turns over” at the smallest pebble & feels tender & aches quite a lot.

                        Oh, did I confess to having talked about myself ? I ordered a parcel of books the other day. Maybe I can get a little fund up for when you come.

                        This is a really agreeable collection of men. Class 15. They’re all so friendly & kind & amiable, & come & chat, & tease & offer cigarettes. A Happy Family. I do hope I can manage to stay with them & come out all right.

                        As Freschville put it today, the better we do at Bothwell the nearer the Front line we get. So one has an incentive. But if I can make the average grade I’ll be content.

                        I did feel happy & I was spoiled with your Mitchell family. And I saw Broadlands & walked over the Test. And I’m reserving the visit to J. Green till you come.

                        It is splendid news that Mother is really getting better. It’s been a long business. Your presence was essential seen in retrospect, & the willing & eager way you’ve filled the gap does you immense credit. You can be assured that they appreciated it. Mother said in her Sunday letter that when you go to the pictures or out for ten minutes it leaves a great gap. Its most satisfactory the way you are appreciated. I was so proud to be your husband the way they all talked of you on Sunday. I fed the fires & basked in the comforting warmth of the never tiring topic of you.

                        We’ll be able to meet at the camp gates, ‘bus to Whitchurch or Andover have supper, & on real April evenings, walk back & to bed in a Hampshire village. Bring the alarm clock.

                        We leave here three weeks on Wednesday, not long. You’ll be here during our last week, or will you ? Yes, I’ve checked up with my diary. But it makes no odds. Some nights we’ll be having night ops. but we can be together every evening anyhow.

                        Fun to think of Candy & you waiting at the camp gates ! What a pair. They’ll not R.T.U. me then.
I have to go to a meeting at the Piquet Hut. The “new boys” have all arrived, 170 of them, pink & new from Cambridge & people suggest parading them at 12.30 tonight & starting them marching towards London, & then melting away. They’ll march on quite a long while !!! It’s a sweet idea. Four men sew their stripes on & their discipline, if any, does the rest. I’m a mute spectator of this. Poor dears. It’ll start them off.

                        I fly, & soon we’ll be together. All my love to that nice Mrs. Brown. Thank her for her long letter.