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

Dearest;
Your very specially nice letters written on the 31st and on Jan 1st. came  today, with the  one with the polyphoto and one  from Bertha and one from the Hughes,   joint  and friendly,  and one from my Mother! I say, your son Richard does look nice.    That’s a brilliant study, gives me more idea than anything else,   and the curl is very charming,   very smart, I must say.    I shall show it to Lanave, and see if he can carry on with St. John-Richard,   or maybe he’ll want to wait for the  rest.    He’s all ready to get painting, as they say.     But the picture   is charming you good person that you are.     Glad he rang up, he’s a likeable sergeant,   and with any luck and the working of Python I might be able to make him tip to me Staff-Sergeant before very long. He’s brilliant with the Cherries…(Askari is arabic  for  soldier  -cherries)     The  one who wanted to marry was told NO quite  firmly and he accepted it and that was that.    Philosophical they are.

The  peculiar  letter writing place was the navigating bridge  on an  LCI on the way to Salerno  in a flotilla of forty eight,  a brigade of Guards  on half  of them,   and other  elements  of our landing  in the rest.  I used the chart table   for the typewriter and there was some rather vague bombing going on and Orlikons going off.  It was droll. Unusual.       Seemed a jolly thing to do, write a letter,   one   is rather upsy-downsy on the way in to a show like that.     It was the day before, we had the    night to do and arrived at first   light.     But that’s  old history and us  old fashioned D-Dayers  are  out  of lustre now after  the Normandy landings, we  feel  like  Boer War veterans   in the  presences  of 14-18 wallahs.

Bertha has  got me  a playwriting contract with the Director  of Education,  Glasgow,   for his Slum children’s clubs,  special kind of play all ordered,   and he  liked the  Adventure  and asked Bertha to ask me. So I will.     Only a fiver but more maybe if its liked.  Glasgow is rich. So I’ll do it.  Meanwhile  I must  keep  on with the book,  I’ve got chapter  four  in hand,  three  being revised and two  in the post towards you. The posties all understood about the polyphoto and said nowt. Decent chaps, posties.

Yes,   I’m being brilliant about the silver box, so clever, I haven’t bought it again. I have thought of trading the watch I got at Leghorn and the Bronze bitch and some Italian books, but I don’t know. Its so exquisitely yours. And you’ve nothing yet. And if only we could have the Jeavons house! Could you put out feelers with Norman, it is his, isn’t it?   We’d be nice about it and treat it well and have everyone working on the lawns. And there are   stable yards, too. It would be nice.  Think of it. Bit far from Jim’s that’s all. Where would Mary and I work?  But enough…we have a good home.  And if you go on, cutting lumps out of my son and Hair’s heir he’ll be as cald as a boot. That’s the third.  His eyes seem to be good and dark and well made and he has complete hearing ears. He is clever. That one. And Christopher was there in a Norwegian sweater. And he wants it to freeze hard and yes, horses, brown horses, are nice. We’ll have one. They are the only animal that   is equally handsome from either end. And good good you to send Francesco a card. Did you put on it Buon Natale?  My Felix put a New Year’s card on my desk.  I have  a stove coming and I’m changing my room around, bed endways at the  end,  desk under the  window, a carpet  I’ve got and a bookcase and table  the carpenters  are making  for me. I’ve a camp arm chair,   too.     It will be good. I’m reading Sinclair Lewis’ Gideon Parish. And on Sunday I had a quiet evening by the fire with Blunden, only it started cricket talk and we went  on and on as Englishmen do.  But its a good book. In one place he says “Men of taste feel that  a thousand run cricket match is improper, like  a primrose  a foot  across”, That is very very true. You know what I feel about Timeless Tests.

That the bag is piggy skin and you like it is happy-making for me, and St.  Anthony arranged it to go with the gloves.     And my purge here goes  on,   a nice Court Martial working  out neatly  for a crook of a Staff Sergeant  in the  other  company,   and even Twiggy Brance has decided to  stay  away  from his Pina,  whose young  heart  is being broken by his handsomeness  and light heartedness, and he thinks  its his  idea.  Poor Derek is  taking his  punishment, of having to rewrite his books and  sort his mistakes,   and his braggartness  is going and he  is  getting  sensible and less  of a Type  and a Sahib and will,  after  this deflation,  be build-up-able  into a  quite decent  young  officer. Really we are getting a sober, gay and home-loving mess at last. Poor dears, its a shame to  missionary them so much.

Have you all the play for Cape yet?    Can you change the   introduction easily so that Kings Messenger can come  first   and be  the title?    I’ll find that out.     Forget it,     Title for book. Second Manhood? Perhaps not.  I must write you some guineas in.   It may pay to keep on with the book in. the long run, rattle away at  it sort of.   Oh, Cavalleria has two ls, see the Thing sent this morning. Maybe its not up to standard, its true, that’s  the  reason! My Dunhill  smokes beautifully, and Parker have written a daft charming letter  about the new mouthpiece   “We usually make the  mouthpiece  fit  the  pipe,  but  in your case we will have one made  a shade   too large  and with the genius  of the R.E.s we  are   sure you will be able to take it down!

Bless them & you. I do love you & your exquisite description of the frosted walk & your gay son. He is indefinably ussish, isn’t he.

All my love,  Ever – David!