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Date: May 17th 1942

17 May 1942.

Dear Jean:

Another week gone, and this time no mail. But there are rumours of a mail in, so possibly the distribution will bring something my way during the coming few days. We have had some wet days, with welcome moisture, but fine in between, and today was good all day. Last night Bert Hammond came up, and went back this morning. He went up to Morris for tea in the afternoon, and after supper here, he and I took in a flick, or a movie as we say at home. It was a good show, too, lots of laughs, and an excellent Donald Duck, which Mary would have loved.
To-day, Axel Kinnear came up, arriving about 11, and we walked down to Mickleham for lunch at the Running Horses Inn, a lovely walk down, over the hill, through a modern subdivision, of comfortable homes, much like Uplands, with pretty gardens, and through some forest, then through the old quaint village of Mickleham, which I have mentioned before. After lunch, which was quite good, we walked back through the fields along the river, and later we walked up to Morris`s for afternoon tea, They had met Axel about a year ago, when we stayed with them first time he came up to see me. Instead of coming home after tea, as we should have done, we stayed and had supper too, two nice boiled eggs each, and excellent coffee. Then had to rush away in time for Axel to catch this train back. The Morris`s like Axel very much, and were delighted to see him again. I don`t know how we can ever repay them for all the kindness they have shown us. Axel got a big thrill out of it, a real change for him, after living in the barracksin the usual army style. Am hoping things will break for Ax in the near future, perhaps they will. He has certainly kept his head up through a long term of not much encouragement.

Mrs Morris has been much better this past week, and is more like her usual spry self. Ecila was off at 3 am this morning driving a tea wagon for some manoeuvres some distance away. She does this in connection with the WVS or some such women`s organization. The tea wagons are immense things, and must be quite a handful on these kinky narrow English roads. It is great in this country now, they way practically everybody is doing their bit as best they can. It is fine too, to see a people united, and giving up the old easy habits of peace times. If people were only as willing to serve, and deny themselves of luxuries in Peace, when danger recedes in the distance, as they do in war, it would be a fine thing. Perhaps they need some kind of inspiration to take the place of the stimulus of self-preservation wich motivates us in War. I wonder what that inspiration must be? It is a big problem. It has its dangers too, it must be the right kind of inspiration. The Nazis seemed to have it, but it was the wrong kind. The Russians too had it, and it may be that they had a better kind. The right answer to this problem might well initiate, and sustain a Golden Age, after we have won the immediate struggle of self preservation.

I think of how lovely Victoria must be now, and pretend that you and I are together, close, will come to us again dear.

I must try to get a family letter off soon. It is about the only way I can square up my ledger of letter obligations. I wonder about Gertrude. Her big event should come next m onth. It will be great news, and I surely hope her happiness is realized.

Give my best to the Garman's.



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