I’ve had a deliciously lazy day, & only now, at 10o/c, 15 minutes before lights out, I’m starting a little letter. We scrubbed out the gym between 8.30 and 10.30 this morning, in Denims, with our squad pianist playing & us singing. Company Parade was 1045 – 11 & then we were free. Ernest & I went to our little nook on the cliffs & I read a novel & he wrote a letter till 1o/c (Not too Wide, not too Deep“, R. Sale, fairly good.), & Then we fed, lavishly on R. Beef, spuds & peas & Y. Pudd. & Rhubarb & Custard. We went back to the nook & I slept until 3o/c. The sun shone & the sea rolled & sang happily. It was a nice. Then we watched the cricket till tea, fed hard, played tennis (good hard court &  raquets, super) & visited Thompson in hospital (He collapsed at P.T. on Saturday), Back for supper & the nook till now. Now my beds made, my pyjama trousers are on & I’m writing until lights out.
The Major wears battle dress all week & a tunic at weekends. So does Sergeant. He (the Major) was at the cricket all the while. Like uncle Jack. Clapped a lot & disagreed with the umpire when our side batted. We won – 209 for 8, 112 all out.

                        Just how bad is my caligraphy ? Poor Darling. But I do love writing to you, it’s the nearest I can get.

                        They’re singing lugubriously as they undress & lie on their beds. Ernie’s producing sad vague woolly songs. Noone sings “Oh where & oh where is my L. Dg. gn” or “Steam Boat Bill”. But we shall.
No one has the wits to call such animals Pogs. Nor talk of Mats.

                        And your letters are such a thrill, you don’t know eagerly I greet the Post Orderly, yet eagerness seasoned with caution, because we have two posts a day & you can’t write every post. But so often there is one. I try not rip it open at once but to gloat over the virgin envelope and seek a suitable place and time to read it, word by word, like our Mister Creep did his letters.

                        I can understand Peter a lot now. He’s a Lance Bombardier now and very full of his official position. Yet motherly with his squad.

                        Wilfred is rather sweet, & very attached. He’s the one who has lost two fingers, a Halifax mill hand. This evening they all went out & I said I was staying on, so Wilfred stayed -“I’m not going to leave old Danny”. He doesn’t care for dogs much (apropos the photograph) but he loves Budgerigars he’s got one at home, told me all about it. His ambition is to work on a farm, but he’s been mill since he was 14. Broad Yorkshire accent, too.

                        Lights out. More tomorrow after dinner, & I’ll post it for 5.30. There’s a little light, I’ll try. No. No good. See you tomorrow.

Good night Darling.
______________________

Monday, 8o/c AM = 08.00 hrs.

In Great Alne there should be a fine holiday atmosphere, & a cricket match pending. Has Eric a good team ? I’ve cleaned two pr. of boots, my buttons & badge, folded my blankets  so, had a bath, scrubbed my piece of floor, eaten a good breakfast, dressed with care & now I have 15 minutes before the first parade. Arms drill today, & P.T. as well, a lecture & a Company Route March this afternoon, a good old 15 miles, a very nice prospect. We are all booted & ready now. We wear nice little R.A.letters on our shoulders, & a little  colours thus on the arm. Very dressy with white lanyards. But then – – the right of the line ! !

                        Our floor shines well now, it’s polished wood & we “bump” it every morning. It’s coming on nicely.
We move on (those of us who do) on the 24th of the month. Then it’s all M.T. & grand convoy drives over the Moors. I hope to have a motorbike, they’re grand machines and sport about, very joyous.

                        Time for Parade, nearly, Ernest & I always like to be first, so I’ll adjourn this for the morning. More, with any luck, after lunch. Is there a letter for me today ? I wonder. I pine for news of Great Alne & for your comments.

                        It’s now 11o/c, our 10 minute break, & we were so bloody ragged at Slow Marching only our kind hearted Irish Sergeant would have let us have one. I’d have kept the squad at it for an extra 20 minutes.

                        We had a Bren gun lecture this morning. Lovely weapons ! Also P.T. & a period of slow marching & saluting. After break its Bren gun again & then gun crew work. Then a spot of drill & – dinner. Yo ho. !

                        Ernest had two letters just now, poor old David none, which means that something will come later, & Ernest can do without. I can gloat then. Maybe there’s a parcel.

                        You needn’t send all the Journal, just the Gt. Alne cuttings & fruity bits generally (not Evesham market prices)

                                                                                                                                                Nice letter from Ivy Davison saying she wishes me luck & hopes for other articles. I apologised for Durham, & explained.

                        I think I’ll post this & be sure.

                        So, Candy, all my love, Gwen All my love & you, goodwife, all my love.

I haven’t read your letter yet. A thrill in store.

I’ll write a brief note to Rhoda too. No. I’ll just post this, & cope quietly this evening, when I’m fed & wash & calm.

5 o/c : just free. Post goes at 5.30. I’ve glanced at your letter & I’ll cope with it in the Writing room this evening.