Scarborough. Tuesday night, 10.30 Battery Office
My dearest,
I’ve tucked the battery up and put them to bed, put out their lights and locked up. My Battery sleeps snugly or illicitly toasts bread snaffled from the cookhouse at the stove by candlelight, – which is my business yet none of my business. Squad 96 is asleep, bless them, all virtuous and tired, except four who are on Main Guard and one who has a roaring temperature and feels bloody, – vaccination of last week, that first to fall. He’s so sorry for himself. I’ve found him two extra blankets and some aspirin and he’ll do for the night. They’re fetching me if he’s worse and I’ll fetch Nurse Parke. But he can go sick and to hospital in the morning.
We had a busy day, as per programme, and spent a long time practicing Guard Mounting, and I watched them on the square like an anxious hen over chicks just going out in the world. They did creditably.
Why is it a distinction to drill holes in princess’ teeth-– too many boiled sweets and sticky foods in war time is the cause.
A nice letter from you about you and Eileen in Town and one thing and another. Fancy a testimonial like that from staid Eileen !
The enclosed stamped card is for magpie-Klaus, also the envelope. The letter for you to read and destroy. Aren’t they thorough ! I’ve answered their query.
You clever girl, milking the cow.
Letter – and cigarettes – from mother this afternoon. She loves the chair backs, really does, and wore my flowers, and she said she thought you very brave after the station. She’s sent you out to buy shoes as an anodyne. A sweet thought. She says her foots troubling her and she’s thinking of seeing the Doctor. She must, at once.
Having a Squad all day is quite tiring, I felt very weary this evening and after doing the blackouts I lay on the bed in the office and slept until nine. Up at half five to get them all up and to see to my sick soldier.
Oh, a nice little job this afternoon while Powlely gave them a map reading test, I went to the weekly mess meeting representing the battery. In the Adjutant’s Office, Messing Officer in the chair, Sgt. Cook at his side. Five of us. We discussed the menu for next week item by item and then made suggestions and criticisms. All very masculine and domestic. It was a great affair. The (Army?) does take care of its men, really, and great pains are taken to give them interesting food. The features next week are salmon, rissoles for supper and fish cakes for tea one day. A problem was a consignment of liver ordered from NAAFI for breakfast tomorrow, and when it came it was half liver and half ox-tail and you can’t serve oxtail for breakfast, and half a consignment is no good for dinner. So we have liver and sausage, and put some corned beef with the ox-tail for stew, in place of sausages. Yours isn’t the only household with problems.
No news of Candy lately, is she hibernating or what. Hens doing their stuff ? You doing yours ? Your mother hers ? Klaus his ? How is uncle Jack ? How’s the whole spinning world of the parish ? I must go to bed, I love you greatly.
Bless you, and a General comes on Saturday, blast his glossy boots.
Ever and ever yours . . . .
