Airgraph
1021 Docks Operating Company, R.E.  A.P.O.  5145   C.M.F.

Dearest Heart,
I’ve just written to Bertha, Jim, “Uncle Jack”, D Sadgrove and Eileen, all airgraphs in a burst of enthusiasm.  Now and airgraph to you followed by a letter.  It requires quite a lot of energy here to work and write letters, never have I known a climate where one desires more to sit and do nothing.  I have more energy than most, but it is an odd climate.  Healthy physically but out-Bournemouthing Bournemouth a hundred times.  We move very soon I expect, our rest period over.

There may be gaps in a sequence of my letters and if there are it will be well not to worry.  One is so mobile these days, and it’s a mobile war, and when one starts moving about silence descends on one.  But outbursts of mail will follow the silences, if they occur.

This is Saturday and we have a NAAFI issue this evening, great excitement in the camp, as I write the men are lining up for their seventy cigarettes, their two bars of chocolate, their tooth brush or writing pad or toothpaste, their shaving cream or razor blade.  And a great to-do- a quart bottle of beer between each two men, English bottled beer, Bless the British army.

Still the sun shines very strongly, and like you did, and perhaps still do, I rest from one to half past two, then wash, drink lemonade and back to work.  One gets tired in the late morning, but the evenings are lovely, and our little wireless picks up good music under Tommy’s caressing fingers, the Fifth last night from some Italian station.  I am writing an ordinary letter now, this is a separate outburst to send love, kisses, thoughts and to give me that pleasure that any letter or communication to you always gives me.

Did I tell you I was buying a ship after the war, and buying all the donkeys, ponies and mules here and taking them into a Warwickshire meadow for a year, a lush water meadow, they live on such stringy faded tough grass here, and they are so brave and a nice about it.

The Don R. has just gone off to get (a) a Padre for this evening if he can and (b) any mail, for which we try constantly.  It will come, probably after we have moved from this place!  Shall I ever know!  Pity there isn’t a call box in this Olive Grove.

God bless, dearest,
all my love. . .
David  X

Two letters from Mother, July 18 & 25. Grand gay ones. Says Dickie-Anne is holding back until Aug 4th.