8 C.I.T.R., C.A.O.
12 Feb 45
Darling Isobel:
Received Letter No 3 from you a short while ago, about half an hour, so I think I’ll answer right now while I have a few minutes. Also got one from Nina whom I wrote shortly after I came over. I sure was glad to get your letter with the news. Whatever you do, kid, drop me a line often. I can get along without the parcels but it gets pretty grim with no mail. The kids must be having a whale of a time, & I sure envy them. I really enjoyed the sligh drives we used to have, tucked in under about 10 rugs. Yes, I thought of the birthday party a lot on Feb 1st & sent that wire. Maybe I was crazy but I sure was thinking about you all.
I guessed from your letter that you had let the house to Rose & Glen. I think that is very good, dear, & I am sure they will look after things for us well. It’s too bad that Jack & Flo moved away from them, & as I said I thought he would go to Yarmouth or New Glasgow. It was rather strange to send him to Victoria.
Things are rather quiet here but we are kept pretty busy. I saw by the paper today that during the month of January an average of 19 people were killed daily in England by the V bombs & over 50 daily injured. That is an awful score when you come to think of it. The M.O. was in London over the week-end & one fell during the night & landed about 3 miles away from him. He said the house where he was staying trembled & woke him up. I told you about the close one I had with one. I guess if you hear them you are o.k.
The outfit I came overseas with are starting to scatter so the officers had a farewell dinner Friday night, and the cook sure produced a lovely dinner, with real steak, which is very scarce. After the meal we had a sing-song & one of the guys produced some bagpipes & we had quite a time. Many o them had been in Nfld at one time or another & they knew Art’s [Art Scammell] song “The Squid-Jigging Ground.” It’s quite a song when a bunch of fellows sing it – it has a real good swing.
The weather is milder than it was & I think I’m beating this cold, but it’s a slow process. I’ve got no one to give me hot drinks etc except the [?], & he’s never around when I want him.
I’m sure looking forward to the parcel, dear, but whatever you do, don’t spend too much money on them. I know just how hard things are to get so don’t worry. By the way, did my magazines come yet? I sure would like to get them. Did your magazine come yet? The only thing I really need is soap, mostly face soap. I don’t need any batteries for the flashlight as I was able to buy some. Honest to pete, it’s so dark here at night you can’t see an inch before your face. To get from our living quarters from the mess & sitting room we have to cross a yard full of mud & pot holes, through a barn & out again, along a walk, under two clotheslines, past a pig sty (which contains a coal black pig), along a pond & finally get to the quarters – about 400 yards. Some walk in the dark. By the way if you send me any candy, would you try to get some hard candy, like life savers, rather than chocolate bars. They last longer. Also, I sure would like some snapshots of yourself & the children too, but at least one of you, dear. Incidentally, if you send me some films, any size, I can get a camera here. Films are almost impossible to get in this country but as I am in charge of the registration of cameras for the place, I can always borrow one for a time. I’ll send you some snaps which I can get developed easily enough.
Nina didn’t have much news in her letter, didn’t mention Amy Bu[?] or Aunt Jessie or Uncle Sol. Sonny is a Sgt. and is in Sussex, N.B. Harry is in France with a Hospital Unit & is a Cpl. Your idea about writing all the letters may work out to be pretty good – Both Nina & Jennie promised to send me a parcel. Jonnie Henderson & I were writing together the other evening & he told me that he was doing the same thing too. Even if we only get letters in reply it will be something, a sort of connection with home.
Well, darling, I haven’t got much news, this is mostly a bunch of _ _ _ _ you guess, but anyway it’s probably what I’d say to you if I had a chance to talk to you for a while, & I wish to Heavens that I had. I must phone you some night – I sure would if I could.
Honey, I think this war is nearly over. I really do & boy oh boy, will I be glad to get back home. Honest, I’ll never appreciate anyone so much as I will you when I get home, & I’m not fooling when I say that.
Well close now, dear & go down to supper. I’ll write again first chance I get. Keep up the music, dear. We haven’t even got a piano in this place & I miss it very much.
Love & more love,
Frank
xxxxxx
No comments:
Post a Comment