Sep 251944
 

Monday
Normandy
Dearest,
I’m sorry to hear that you have had a return of that confounded migraine and only hope that you are not going to be pestered with it permanently. These things always happen when you have a full day in front of you, don’t they? What a pity Rees is off ill. Is it anything really serious? I gather that your belief is that his greatest handicap is Nowak! Still, you seem to have done pretty well in getting the certificate and all the things which go with it. I was thinking, only the other day, that with this difficulty of getting wool you were going to find yourself knitting furiously at the last moment. You’ll feel positively flush with 60 coupons, don’t you? It looks as if you are going to have some difficulty in solving this problem of a confinement. As you say, Rees might have been a great help to you on the question of help. You will be glad, I know, to get that side of things settled and it will also take quite a load off my mind.
You ask about razor blades and badges. I think that by now you should have received my letter saying that they both arrived safely.
Yesterday I went over to the cottage where I sometimes spend an hour or so trying to teach the lad to speak English. A young Marine whom I foolishly took along with me first time also came along and, as he has dug himself in there now, I think I’ll pack up and try to find somewhere else to spend my evenings. I thought that in this place I’d discovered a spot where I could get away from uniform, but this lad has put that right out of the question. In shaking Dalton off, I thought I’d solved my problem, but it seems I was wrong! I’m sorry because I could get my washing done there, too. Fairly cheaply – in fact she wanted to do it for nothing – and there are no facilities at our barracks for that sort of thing.
In the first place I had intended to go for a day’s fishing, but the weather put that right out of the question. It blew hard and we had rain and hail nearly all day.
You’ll be surprised to hear that I’ve missed the boat. There are some trees in the gardens here which bear nuts – I think they are hazels and I only found out today when they are absolutely bare! I’d have sent some home to you if I could have got a good collection. If we are here for another month or so we should be able to get a good stock of chestnuts, for they are already beginning to fall after the high wind. Though they are fully grown, they have not ripened yet and the nuts inside the coarse cover are still almost pure white. Let me know if you think it would be worth sending them by post. Don’t forget now. Every time I see things like this and every time I see the trees laden with fruit round here I think of how much the children would like this place. Lots of people will come back here after the war, I think, and I have thought how nice it would be if I could bring you all over here in a few years and show you the places I have been to in the short time I’ve been here.
Well, love, as you will see, there is very little news these days. One thing which annoyed me was that this morning they sent Fred Dalton off on a trip like the one I wanted to make a few days ago. He doesn’t like these jaunts and I would jump at them. Typical Navy idea, isn’t it?
I have remembered something I have been going to ask you for days. Did you receive my letter enclosing the note of authorisation to the railway people at Crosby? If so, have you collected yet and how much? Don’t leave it too long, love, or they may return it to London and I’ll have to start all over again! Will you let me know how I stand when you write next, please?
One other thing. How much a pound is coffee? It makes a fine medium of barter here so if you have not already sent a parcel off to me, will you send me a pound of coffee and if you can put it in a tin so much the better. In fact, if it’s a big tin send more than a pound! I’ll get good prices for it here, I think.
I forgot to say that I hoped Michael is really OK and quite over his cold now.
Did I ever tell you that part of the garden in the ex-clinic where we work is full of very big green tomatoes – hundreds of plants – all growing in the open? We have collected a few and have them ripening on our windowsill here. There were also loads of cucumber growing in the open, but the damp weather has brought out the slugs who have eaten lots of them. What is your final opinion of the Stoners? This has not been a good year to judge them, of course.
I’d better explain that although the letter is dated 25th, it won’t be posted until tomorrow because I made a start on it at work, only to find I’d left all my envelopes behind! Sorry, love. I’m now writing before supper in a fast fading light and will have to stop soon because the light will be gone completely. I have, however, written to Wendy and will post it with this. Yesterday – I should have mentioned it earlier – I got a brief airmail from Jane. The only item of interest is that she had hoped to get a parcel of clothes off to you, but these cannot now be sent. So you’ve had it, love — you’ve had it. What a pity!
I’m sorry letters are so irregular these days, love. I really will try to find some means of getting them away more regularly, but you have no idea how difficult it is with nowhere to write except in our bedroom — and there’s no light there. In addition, we have the choice of sitting on a chair and writing on our knees, or sitting on the bed which is about six inches off the floor! I’m not grousing, love — just explaining. And now I must stop for tonight. I can barely see what I’ve written and my eyes are getting strained and tired. I’ll add a bit tomorrow. No letter from you today, by the way.
Tuesday.
There’s nothing new except that it’s raining hard again. Real wintry weather now and I do wish we could get some fine weather because of the lads at Arnhem. They are taking a terrible hammering, from all accounts, and two days clear weather would save them now. Well, sweet, that is all for today. I was glad to hear you feel better after the migraine. Take good care of yourself for me, sweetheart. All my love to you.
Ever your own,
Arthur X