Thursday
Aberdeen
Darling,
I can’t recall a week which has dragged so much as this week has done. Today feels as if it should be Saturday! There has been one good thing today which I think I should tell you at once, as I haven’t hesitated to pass on the doleful news. I had my transmitting test today and, at 15 words a minute, got 87% which means I won’t have to come back compulsorily at night on that score once I get over the receiving bogey. For a few days this week we are having a different instructor, for which I’m deeply grateful. In the short time we have had him today I have done much better on figures, which have been my chief bugbear lately. The instructor in our own class, as I think I have told you before, is absolutely hopeless at sending and, worst of all, he has no confidence in himself. Lack of confidence is infectious in circumstances like that. Do you remember I told you we plugged in, a couple of weeks ago, to a preliminary final on which another class was passing out? Well we did the same again today and once again, with a really good sender, I got quite a good deal of it down. In fact on figures, which with our bloke are hopeless, I only made two mistakes and this exam is about seven weeks ahead of us. If I can make the same headway with all the other stuff I shall be OK.
Another new ruling on conditions governing the granting of leave at the end of the course has just been made. Apparently one leaves Torry on the Wednesday if one does even reasonably well in technical and procedure, providing we get 90% in each of our receiving and transmitting tests. Otherwise it may be Friday or even later when we get away. A crowd who failed to get the necessary 90s are now waiting to get away, the remainder having already gone on Wednesday. Allan Sykes, the lad from Gordons, has gone today, after a very touching scene with his ice-skating partner last night. Apparently the lady, who looks very nice from her photograph, came over all sentimental and seduced poor Allan, who is one of the “don’t be a cad” type who would be so easily exploited by a dame if she managed to wring a promise from him, but he managed to steer clear of anything too bad except that he promised to write very often. As he only writes to his parents in India about once a month he is going to find it rather difficult! He’s only 19 but realises that he can’t go all round the country crying his eyes out over every girl he meets! He is one of the lads you never met, but you would like him, I’m sure.
Well, love, this is about all the news, if “news” it can be called. I’m writing this at night school, which has so far been a waste of time tonight for they have been working at speeds well beyond me. It’s annoying to have the night booked up and still get no benefit from it. I’ll have to close now to get this in the post. As you may have guessed from yesterday’s letter, I still love you, sweet. Be good, and look after yourself. All my love.
Ever,
Arthur X
P.S. We have “slops” on Monday so I hope you have sent the money as I have ordered a new suit on the strength of it!
Jun 181942