Tuesday
Devonport
Sweetheart,
I was surprised, but glad, that my letter reached you on Saturday. Somehow I never thought it would make it because usually it takes two days from here. Things have been fairly quiet here until today, when we have done a real day’s work for a change. Still, I would sooner have it that way for the time goes much more quickly, and in the previous couple of days I wrote you fairly long letters which you will have had by now. We are still waiting for news of just where and when we are going on this course. Rather surprisingly I find this air of uncertainty rather stimulating instead of unsettling. Previously everything was pretty well mapped out up to a point. That condition of affairs has its advantages, but there are drawbacks in that life is “set”.
We keep hoping from day to day to hear something definite but there’s no news yet. What will happen, I suppose, is that we’ll be given the usual couple of hours’ notice that we are on draft to some godforsaken spot. I’ll probably wire you when I know.
The children are continual prize packets, aren’t they? Fancy Wendy recovering as quickly as that. Tell Rees I’ll take out a slander action against him! I’ve never heard him in that fractious mood and, when I spoke to him on the phone on Thursday, thought he had some grouch against me for going to the surgery after hours. He seemed quite peeved, but so long as he is civil with you, that’s the main thing.
I’m writing this in my dinner hour because we are watch ashore tonight and are thinking of making a dash for Plymouth to see if we can scrape in to see ‘How Green Was My Valley’. It’s one of the few films I have really wanted to see for a long time. It will pass the evening away but will be rather stuffy as the weather is very close today. We may be feeling it more through pushing a cart laden with parcels up hill and down dale. After that we had to set to and wash out the room where fellows get their new equipment – a huge barn of a place – and then, just to round the morning off, helped two new fellows, who had to hurry to catch a draft, to get dressed. All in all, the busiest morning we have spent here and, as it’s so sultry, we are feeling really sticky. A bath is definitely indicated.
One thing about a big depot like this is that one continually meets a different crowd of fellows and the different types are interesting. You get them all. The dull steady plodders; the lazy ones, last up in the mornings and first at meals; the law-abiding ones; the lads who make it a point of honour to be adrift after every leave. These and many more, you get. We saw one lad, only a kid, under escort and were told the tradition is that of the two years he has been in the Navy, all but two months have been spent in chink! Some of these lads are apt to become little heroes and, to give them their due, some of them can certainly take it.
Just now some of the lads are waiting to go on draft and, incredible as it may seem, they have not been there before. I thought the whole blinkin’ Navy had been there, but apparently I’m wrong. You can imagine the clamour in the mess as everyone tells them all about it and, peculiarly enough, they are all telling these lads that they will really enjoy Royal Arthur! Distance, it seems, lends enchantment to the view. And I have no need to tell you that these lads are already making plans as to how they will get home from Skegness. As they are only going for a six-week course, I wish them luck!
Well, sweetheart, this is about all the news for today. I love you, pet, and always will. Look after yourself for me and as soon as I know anything about this move I’ll let you know. My love to the children.
All my love, darling. Ever your own,
Arthur X
Jul 211942