ARKWOOD . . . . Saturday night, waiting on a call to you . . .
Dearest one,
Can you cast your mind back to days when I was finishing a novel, organising cricket suppers, writing Schools broadcasts and seeing to the Men’s Club and had twenty three jobs at once ? Those days were a quiet rest cure, lazing, as it were, on sunny beaches to these two. Reed is on Leave, Fawcett, Eastwood and Speller on Courses, Peter is doing Q work and I am doing the A side of it, acting adjutant in fact. And the whirl of work, the buzz of clerks and typists, the stream of notes, telephone calls, letters, wires and teleprinter messages which surround me is quite delicious. It is our Big Day today, at 2359 and when I took over the A side yesterday at noon things were in a hell of a mess. Now they are sorting out with two hours to go. It’s grand, a firm torrent of activity, with the target approaching. So no letter to you last night, just sheer work till midnight, and this the first break today, and letters to BBC, cheques, scripts to alter, all lie ignored, I love Adjutant work.
On top of that I supervised the making of three hundred wills this morning gave five talks on Security, and took a company parade. But I thrive on the activity, and the head, three times as large as it should be, just responds.
The laundry came this morning, outfit 2, and a letter from you, too, bless you.
Of course you must go to Red House. But you must be prepared to spend two weeks here, and your arguments with Marjorie, unspoken, are sound. She’ll have you undisturbed for a year or so in due course. I can’t say when to come, I’ve three days leave coming when I can fit it in, and the best thing to do is to go to Kettering with you and then bring you up here and have you nearby for the evenings, lunches and whatever afternoons I can snatch. It would be foolish to let minor scruples stand in the way, we should regret lost time so very much in the future. As soon as I see a chance for leave I’ll telephone you. Maybe I’ll come about Thursday and bring you back here on Monday for two weeks, perhaps three. Prepare your mother, and get permission from Arthur and Marjorie. Nonie could do the milk round, she has nothing to do. Poor Eric having no Sunday lie-ins because of his Home Guard. Tell him I am sorry for him. We stay in bed-on Sundays until seven quite often.
There you were, all excited and surprised, and Doris, all kind and cuddly- friendly, and I have told you the rough idea of travelling. Me to you, us up together and bob our uncle. I’ll scratch round for digs soon. When you come we’re going to have ladies nights in the Mess for the O.C.’s wife and you and perhaps Harry’s. Peter’s can’t get up, poor dear.
Had the pleasure of making eight lance corporals today, my good boys from I. Nice to be able to reward virtue. A fine lot, too. One of them will be full corporal soon. Also to lance jacks into corps. And so short a time ago I was a lance corporal, no bombardier.
We must sort our finances carefully this time, a really arrangement. I owe you three pounds for the past two weeks. I’ll send it tomorrow, the “firm” owes me seven pounds, I’ll get that out and post you some of it.
Now away to the grindstone, much on my job list.
Bless you. . .
Ever your own. . .
