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Date: August 2nd 1943
Della Allen
Leslie McCaig



Darling –

I’m beginning this before dinner and hope to finish it before going to bed. Today has been busier than usual. In fact I was at the flight from 0800 hrs until 1800 hrs. – an unusually long day for a change. I flew my new kite for the first time today and it promises to be very good – in fact I’m quite enthusiastic about it and am more ambitious than I have been for many a day. The feeling seems to be contagious as everyone has been crawling over it all day seeing that his particular little cubby hole is in A-1 condition. We’ve needed something to pull us out of our lethargy and now we have a bit of push once more. The ground crew is keen to see that it is functioning perfectly so I’m looking forward to plenty of cooperation. One of the ground crew is a little lad from St. Lambert. I had seen him around before and it’s the first time he has been assigned to one particular a/c so he feels more important too. A couple of nights ago we biked it out to a pub – The Green Tree. The M.O. was with us and knew the landlord. As a result we gobbled up his small stock of Bass and Worthington and a merry party was had. Some one discovered a pianist and I would not be surprised if the villagers knew we were in town. The M.O. is one of the noisiest individuals in the mess and by morning everyone knew we were on a party. Of course when you stage a pyjama raid on other quarters and are somewhat boisterous someone is bound to hear. The Doc and I ended the evening by trying to take pictures of each other in the mess but I’m willing to lay odds that not one will turn out. Incidentally I did not feel very smart the next day and wasn’t sorry to remain on the ground. Tonight I intend to see an ENSA show and hope it is a bit better than usual. And now for a few of your letters dear. #92 Don’t worry about my waistline – my battle dress trousers are big enough for plenty of expansion yet. Somehow when I really feel talkative I’m miles away or get side tracked from writing a letter. But I do try and my intentions are good anyhow. #94. Mother is getting a warped opinion about my value around a house but she doesn’t know about the electrical experiments Percy and I used to carry out as we always kept a few spare fuses. In a way I’m glad you were not at wings parade – I was a very angry lad and thinks were a shambles. Methinks you would not have been too proud of the escort. He was in much better humour by the time he reached Montreal and had you to greet him – silently. Re pictures in colour on the Severn – they are now out of date and I’ll see what I can do about a more modern enclosure later. As for the bus terminus in Montreal I’ll bet it can’t touch the queues for trains and buses here. And yet people insist upon travel – Blackpool seems to be the most popular for ten times as many people as it can accommodate. #96. Me too on postwar reconstruction dreams – I’m very much afraid that John Doe will demand low taxation, big wages and the old reactionary policies will take root again. I hope we don’t let it happen. I can appreciate the fact that labour must strike when the iron is hot but I rather resent the fact that certain organizers make a good living at labour’s expense. On the other hand these men are doing a job that someone must do. On the whole I don’t think service men over here are very sympathetic.

#100. We too have had one hot night when sleeping was difficult. Blackout curtains and the early part of the evening do not help and once lights are out the air seemed to have lost all desire to circulate. However it’s not hot enough to sleep raw most nights.

This is after several beers in the mess and considerable discussion with the lads in charge of flying control about the most satisfactory method of landing kites at night. Then we caught up with a WAAF officer who can blush more readily than anyone I have ever known. She spoke of having flown in a Tiger Moth once and she sat in the “front pew”. Even you dear, would never refer to a cock pit as a pew. Then she let loose a very great line on flying and either she was pulling our legs or she is not too observant. So I’m not impressed with WAAF officers. So you needn’t worry dear she’s no [?]. Tommy sends his love too and threatens dire results when we strike Montreal. He has now opened a can of lobster so g’night.


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