Wednesday
London
Sweetheart,
Your letter has not arrived yet so I’d better start by giving you my news, which is fairly varied. First of all there’s nothing to add to what I said in my letter yesterday. I’m going to see Power tomorrow, but as it will be fairly late afternoon – always supposing he is available at all – the odds are against my being able to let you know how I get on. In any case, this is only a preliminary chat and nothing definite can be decided. Even if Power wants me, I would still have my old bogey – Jackie! – to circumvent. I hope you can see my point of view. If I stay down in the bowels much longer I’ll go crackers and there will be an added zest in life in getting back into the swim again. I’m not over-optimistic about the prospects; I’ve learned my lesson well in that respect. But if I do click, there are two aspects of the case. The disadvantages are: no chocolate, no cheap cigarettes, no free theatres, heavier general expenses such as meals, if I travel home and pay my own fair I HAVE to travel first class, I’ll be cut off from all the lads here. Quite honestly I don’t know what the pay would be. The advantages are that I’d lose a lot of my inertia and would be keeping my hand in ready for the post-war scramble. I’d probably make some useful friends for that period. An officer will most probably get a better clothing allowance on his discharge. My gratuity at the end of the war would be higher and so would my share in “prize money” when that is eventually dished out years after the war is over. Finally, and you know how I hate this point of view, there’s no doubt my prestige in the office, or in any office I might go to, would be higher. I know you understand, angel, and I know, too, that you’ll believe me when I say that, had I an interesting job I wouldn’t have worried one scrap about the social advantages of it. In fact I would have preferred to stay as I am if there was any interest in the job at all, but I honestly have felt for a long time that I have reached a dangerous state of stagnation. Now we’ll say no more about this until I know something fairly definite.
Other news is that I at last got a fretsaw and table – though the whole set – saw, blades, table and spare wing-nuts for the saw – cost me very nearly 10/–, which was a bit of a blow. Still, they are a good investment. Now I’m going to make a real effort to get a start on this thing today.
My latest acquisition – picked up on the way home this morning – is a handful of dahlia tubers from St James Park. I have no idea what varieties they are, but I doubt if they will be the really big ones. I’ll get them dried off and then I’m trusting to you to look after them and to plant them next year. We may be able to keep them all our lives as a Royal souvenir of London if you look after them properly. Whatever else you do, don’t trust them to the garage as I did the others. They’ll be ruined by the damp. Will you look them up in the gardening book?
Finally, I’m going to get some Canadian chocolate on Friday – possibly a full box for Xmas, so if I do we should be okay for sweets and things without me chasing about a lot.
I had a letter from Mother this morning, but she had very little to say except that she had been over to see you.
Apart from the news about Wendy, which is not too good, is it, I don’t think there is a lot for me to answer in your letter. I didn’t hear the Russian programme, of course, so can’t express my opinion. I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say, to hear that Wendy has symptoms of something so permanent as rheumatism. Let’s hope it is not so. I’ll be more than interested to hear what Rees has to say and until you have seen him I don’t think there is a lot I can say except that I hope your fears are wrong. Perhaps she will be better all round after she has had her tonsils out.
Your best plan by far in regards to Xmas is to make your own arrangements. If they fall in with other people’s, all well and good. If not, keep to your own ideas. I thought of you when I saw the story of the sex campaign and knew that, like me, you’d crow to think there was a general campaign to teach boys and girls of 12 to 16 and over facts which our children know already. The object is obviously to prevent almost every girl becoming a dabbler in sex, but the snag so far as the state is concerned is that if sex is to be discussed freely and fully then so must birth control, with the attendant dangers of a still lower birthrate! It’s a bit more complicated than at first appears.
There are no ideas on the leave rota dates beyond the general feeling that one watch may get New Year, but if that is so then it is a foregone conclusion that the blue-eye watch, not ours, will get it.
I’m so glad you like the doll’s head and hope the finished article comes up to all your expectations. But for the love of Mike don’t let it be one more excuse for late hours. You are not getting your proper rest and I can see that this, with the worry of Wendy, will just about culminate in an attack of something or other just as I get home on leave. God help you if it does!
And that, angel, is about all there is to say today except that you are not to worry about the raids. I don’t take any silly chances, you know that.
Sweetheart, I love you more every day. Take good care of yourself, won’t you? If I can manage New Year at all you may be sure I will, but I ha’ mae doots! All my love to you, angel, and give my love to the children.
Ever your own,
Arthur X
P.S. Enclosed is my sweet ration card which I intended to send earlier. Will you return it as soon as you can, please?
Nov 101943