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Date: March 27th 1944
Mother – (Mary Stubbs)
Anthony Stubbs


March 27. 1944.

Dear Mother:

I am writing this on the train which I know already is going to be very difficult. I managed to get a sleeper again but it doesn’t seem to be very smooth. I got back into London last Wed. and met my skipper who went back to the station the next day. I wired for 4 extra days and got them. The other pilot had been recalled from leave being posted back to Canada on a captain’s course. In the afternoon I went to call on Uncle Tom and of course found he had died about six weeks ago. This was a shock because I had not realized from your letters how ill he had been. Daphne told me more about it later. In the evening I went to my club until it closed at 11:00. I have got to know most of the people who usually go there now so it always provides entertainment when there is nothing special to do. The only thing of major import the next day was going to see “For Whom The Bell Tolls”. This was really good all through and not spoilt by having read the book. Next day Daphne took me to lunch. She is very nice indeed and we had a thoroughly good time. We met at Claridges but all tables were booked so we finally lunched at the Ritz. Before that though we met a Dereck Seebohm (who owns Puzzle Cottage) at his club, the Lansdowne and had a few drinks and then all went to lunch. Then Daphne and I went to a show, tea at the Ritz and back to the Lansdowne. Seebohm was through the Okanagan about 1924 but has forgotten most of it except climbing Little White Mtn. I can go and stay at his place anytime I am on leave which is only a stones throw from Puzzle Cottage.

On the next day I met Capt. Allan Mackenzie at Mrs. Masseys for lunch just by chance and we arranged an evening. Then I went off to see “Arsenic and Old Lace” which was good (of course it had to be after running for two years). I had supper with Allan and some doctor friends of his (they had all been taking a course in London) and some WREN officers whom we then took dancing at an officers club around Berkley Square. As the dance proceeded the crowd thinned out very quickly. We found out why later when we tried to get a taxi. After a long walk we caught one though. Peter had come up that night and next morning he had breakfast in my room and we had a long talk which we never had got the chance to do the time before. It was Sunday and an absolutely wizard day, surely as warm as a summers day. We collected some girls we knew and took them to lunch and spent the afternoon in the sun in Hyde Park along with the rest of the population of London. Afterwards we all went back to the club for the evening. I have never yet known anyone to catch a train from this place and Peter is usually the worst at it so he had to take the milk train about 4:30 this morning. He had been up the Sunday before and each time he says it will be his last opportunity to get up so there is always a farewell session for him. It is like the old story of crying “Wolf, wolf” but this time it does look more definite as he has to turn in his surplus kit such as his walking out uniform now. How many times has the train stopped while I have been writing.

Love from Tony.


[Editor’s note: Transcription provided by collection donor.]  

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