1224/5   Shipworking Sections R.E.  C.M.F
211

Dearest…..
Two letters this morning came half an hour ago!  And one yesterday and two the day before.  I didn’t expect any at all and everything shines anew because of your generosity. You have no idea how richly rewarded is the effort it must be in the midst of the hurly burly of domestic life for you to write a letter to me. They were of the 11th. and 12th.  They told of many things, Dickie lying on the hearth rug kissing the picture of Chis, and a nice little drawing, the sketch you have sent to Noon, the way he looks, the bunny hat on the stocks, and your Frank the Italian.  Yes, thank him for the wishes for a happy Easter.  But you have brilliantly put your finger on what is worrying me about Hector.  It tells too much fact which is dull and is not alive, because there is no characterisation. I think I see the light.  Forget that you have. We will get over what happens through people it happens to.  Not a sick parade but how certain people behave on sick parade, not marching, but how certain people march. I think we can bring it off now.  I am going to start again, or reshape the three chapters I have done in those lines.  And as for G & S it provides a nice title for Chapter l….”When I first put this Uniform on….” (I said as I looked in the glass, its one to a million that any civilian my figure and form will surpass”)  But as for the general idea, I think you have lit the lamp.  I’ll puzzle away again and see if we can get started and then ripple it on. Not like essays, but with characters in it all the way through, cake of happenings with plums of people, things happening too.

A parcel from Mama with a nice pipe and a lighter too from Auntie Edie.  And a letter from D Sadgrove and the Observer, most regular of arrivals, from JGL, whom the Lord and Allah combine in preserving.  Your description of Dickie’s smile, and not being too smiley and being shatteringly so to people he really likes is very brilliant and charming and touching.  I am eager for the return of Noon, (poor man) with his despatches.  He’s a worthy soul, is Noon. Your description of the smile of our son is indeed good.  I can sort of feel one of the difficulties of parenthood, from a remark of yours, daring to think of twenty years ahead.  It must be difficult to hold back open love from a male child when he reaches the age when his own freedom of soul means so much to him, when he starts to be conscious of his individuality. When parents try to be fond then, he is resentful, all unknowing, and puts up defences against it, that he can be free.  The parents think he is graceless and unfeeling, and loving deeply, superficially sour.  They drift apart, child and parent, father especially.  The secret would be to hold back love until the child, with his gossamer feelings and sensitiveness, is free enough to show affection himself, and then, always with restraint, understanding and respecting his deep shyness which is an integral part of his growing selfullness, to pay back only what is called forth.  The undercurrents, unknown and yet felt, will be there and a rare and rich relationship could develop.  But it means much self-abjugation by the father, and the mother, the prize being rich enough to make it worthwhile.  I put the danger period, when affection must be delicately shown and confidence not spoiled, the age of ten onwards, getting more vital at fourteen.  One must respect shyness and be shy in return.   But at this stage, everyone is frank and uncomplicated, and I envy you and all his friends their joyously natural affection; I feel it, and am dumb. As Dickie increases in awareness he will need a double dose of Faith, Belief in Our Father Which Art in Heaven and belief in His father which is in Italy.     Its a bit hard on the boy.

Will there be any chance of gladdening Granny Rose by taking him there for a week later on when the weather is better? It would be a great thrill for her,  and Mother would have Auntie Edie down to see him that way.   I know the journey would be a hell of a sweat, but the gesture would have great rewards in happiness given.  She is saving up balls now for  when he goes, she’ll be getting a cricket bat  oiled  soon. I don’t know.  She thinks a hell of a  lot  of  you,  being  a shrewd  judge  of people. And Dickie means a lot to her.  I won’t say any more because its a bit unfair for me to talk of it when you have the labour entailed.

I must write you a Thing about Italian Mommas, they are a formidable race, and would make a goodly column.   I went to tea today at the house  of the  owners  of the villa we have as a Mess,   In town,  and there  are  two  quite dull daughters  and Momma,  complete with the  badge  of rank, i.e.,  a whiskery wart  on the  left side  of her chin,  sat very  much alert and careful of any risk her young ran with Ronnie  Channon and I.    The risk was negligible, but she didn’t know that.

What a day with two letters, you are a dear one.   Thanks, and that drawing of Him lying on his tummy is very very good and improves with looking at.   The more I look the better I like it. I shall continue looking. Speed Noon with his sketch.