Aug 281942
 

Friday
Glasgow
Sweetheart,
Another Saturday letter, and another week gone! Four of them reeled off now, love. A third of the way through the course, we hope. Only about 8 more weeks and then, I believe, off we go to London! From what we have heard, everyone goes to Chatham on completion of this course. If that is so I’ll be able to spend a few weekends with Dot and Jack, and if we do get a chance of a weekend from there it won’t take half as long to get home. We hear, by the way, that some of the fellows who were in the last class here, and who completed the course more than two months ago, are still at Chatham. I wonder what the chances of Xmas leave are? Or is that expecting too much and looking too far ahead? There’s one thing about this course, I think they will do their bit to push us through and the instructors are a decent pair of fellows. One of them gave me a sound rating yesterday for allowing nerves to affect me at my time of life! Charlie Mitchell is quite convinced, of course, that we will both fail this course and is wondering what we can go in for next. Whether we would have any choice in the matter is very doubtful! But we get a lot of fun out of imagining our girlish jealousies of each other’s flaky pastry, or bread or puddings if we suddenly found ourselves on a cook’s course! We have just finished a good half hour’s laugh on the prospect of a limitless line of courses in the Navy. All this, of course, is just fun, but we have been saying how much we’d like to go back to Devonport and then home again for another leave before we begin once more to take a different course.
The weather is lovely here now and has been for the last two days. It’s a real Indian summer and we are hoping that it will hold for the weekend because we have managed to book for the YMCA trip to Loch Lomond and are really looking forward to it. I expect we will have a load of Yanks with us. They seem to be everywhere these days. Talking of the weather and Yanks, what price an invasion now if the weather really has settled down? One of the Glasgow papers comments, rather cynically, that we are too late again and that the Russians, tiring of waiting for us, have begun their own second front! Quite a crack, eh?
There’s not a great deal of news today. As I think I told you, we are going to another dance tonight. I don’t know who is running it, but 12 of us were invited from here and our class leader included me in the party in my absence. It was thoughtful of him and it will be as good an excuse as any other to go for a drink or two and will help to fill in still one more night. We are running a dance from here in about two or three weeks, I believe. They are waiting until they hear when the Commander is going on leave and they’ll arrange it while he is away, because he is a bit sticky about some things, I believe. We didn’t do anything very special last night. Charlie went to an aunt’s, John Gray went to a cousin’s and I went and soaked my dirty body in a bath at the corporation baths. The total cost was twopence including towel and soap – a special concession to the forces. It was the best bath I have had since I left home. Lovely warm water, chest deep. After that I did a bit of washing and then finished Dave’s letter. I really should have written him long ago.
When do Eric and Lilian move out of Westmoreland Road? Is it at the end of the month? I haven’t heard from them since I came here and there’s no point in writing now because they might not get it before they leave, so I’ll wait now until I hear from them. I haven’t heard from Dot, either. Isn’t she coming up home soon? And talking of letters, I must write May soon to thank her for the parcel.
Many thanks for your letter, love, but I’ve two bones to pick with you. First of all, what’s all this nonsense about “ratting” on the Navy? Don’t you know that a sailor is always right? And, what’s more, I don’t like the crack about him probably being under training! Seriously, you are quite right and I’m glad the conductress stuck to her point. I’ll bet the sailor felt more uncomfortable than she did, for all his bluster. That’s the first nark. Secondly, who said you had the copyright on oats à la Johnson? Don’t I come into this? (pardon the pun). And, further more, you will notice that this particular brand is called Johnsonian and not Gregsonian oats! So pipe down young woman and don’t get tough. Without me, where would you be? Probably in the A.T.S. peeling spuds and having your bottom felt by any stray soldiers. See what I have saved you from! And just show a little gratitude.
Well, precious, this is all for now. Bye bye. Behave yourself for another eight weeks or so. I love you still, angel. All my love.
Ever your own,
Arthur X