malaria. Yesterday his temperature had been 106! Terrific, isnât it?
I expect you are delighted with the news from the fighting fronts. I hope you are, to yourself, quietly understanding that the people to whom honour and praise is most fittingly given are the dead and the wounded whose efforts have made the successespossible. The non-appearance of the Flying Bomb for several days is a fine bit of news for all of us out here who are from London. I hope there will be no more.
6 September. Hard luck, I have heard the news since writing the above and learned that you had some Flying Bombs, but I hope there will not be much chance of the Germans launching any more.
I went for a walk in the valley last night, and was delighted to add three more fruits to the list I sent you earlier: apples, damsons, plums. I sampled them all, the plums were jolly fine, although we only saw one tree bearing them. They were grand. When I think of our plum tree at home, the blossom of which is carefully counted by my parents to discover whether we shall have 13 or 14 plums this year, and look at this tree, it makes me wish for a little of the Italian climate over England. I do not want you to buy it, but I should be pleased if, at your convenience and when you are looking in a bookshop on your own behalf, you would have a look for some kind of popular book on Geology.
I love you.
Chris
13 September 1944
Dearest,
I received this evening your LCs: 22, 23, 24, 26 and 27. I was very, very, very pleased to get all these letters after so long a break.
I was a little sorry to discern that you are still uncertain about our future, still doubtful of the depth of me. But I want you (I have warned you) to remember the varying circumstances of my writings, and always take for granted that I LOVE YOU, that I know what that implies, that I know what I am saying, and am determined to keep on saying it so long as you will let me. (Please read that last five lines again [from âalways take for granted â¦â], slowly.) I have been leaving the public page blank lately because sometimes I feel it would be a bit of an anti-climax to use it and always I have to bear in mind that there are ânoseyâ people who can see what I am saying if they care to look (chaps playing cards on same table as this).
It doesnât depend on what you look like or whether you can cook or have ever read King Solomonâs Mines . I love you in my bones.
If my letters stop, will you again wonder about my constancy? If you get only a few words on a LC, or a Field Service Card, will you again be aâdoubting and aâworrying? â Please donât. I want my lips to meet yours in understanding, I want to caress you, to kiss your breasts, to put my hot hands full upon your breasts, to squeeze till you cry out. I want to put my face in your bosom, my hands to your loins, then to kiss, then to salute, to meet you there.
I love you.
Chris
22 September 1944
Dearest,
The White Paper on demobilisation, published this morning, is all that is being talked about by our chaps. I think that it might be worse. I have written to Sir E.T. Campbell, my MP, urging him to represent that (1) no scheme shall be allowed to detract from the need for bringing home quickly all men who have spent any length of time overseas, (2) that for such service, one year shall be added to the age, for each two months spent abroad. I donât hope for much from Campbell, but I think it right to let him know the view of most chaps here. He is a Conservative, a supposed poet, responsible for these lines:
âIt is Hitler, the Hun, we are up against,
For all that he does is sinister,
And the best way to put an end to him,
Is to assist Churchill, our great Prime Minister.â
Donât, for goodnessâ sake, spend more than a couple of shillings on Geology. I should be disgusted if you did, as I shall have the run of the libraries when I get home.
You say my sex (as
I expect you are delighted with the news from the fighting fronts. I hope you are, to yourself, quietly understanding that the people to whom honour and praise is most fittingly given are the dead and the wounded whose efforts have made the successespossible. The non-appearance of the Flying Bomb for several days is a fine bit of news for all of us out here who are from London. I hope there will be no more.
6 September. Hard luck, I have heard the news since writing the above and learned that you had some Flying Bombs, but I hope there will not be much chance of the Germans launching any more.
I went for a walk in the valley last night, and was delighted to add three more fruits to the list I sent you earlier: apples, damsons, plums. I sampled them all, the plums were jolly fine, although we only saw one tree bearing them. They were grand. When I think of our plum tree at home, the blossom of which is carefully counted by my parents to discover whether we shall have 13 or 14 plums this year, and look at this tree, it makes me wish for a little of the Italian climate over England. I do not want you to buy it, but I should be pleased if, at your convenience and when you are looking in a bookshop on your own behalf, you would have a look for some kind of popular book on Geology.
I love you.
Chris
13 September 1944
Dearest,
I received this evening your LCs: 22, 23, 24, 26 and 27. I was very, very, very pleased to get all these letters after so long a break.
I was a little sorry to discern that you are still uncertain about our future, still doubtful of the depth of me. But I want you (I have warned you) to remember the varying circumstances of my writings, and always take for granted that I LOVE YOU, that I know what that implies, that I know what I am saying, and am determined to keep on saying it so long as you will let me. (Please read that last five lines again [from âalways take for granted â¦â], slowly.) I have been leaving the public page blank lately because sometimes I feel it would be a bit of an anti-climax to use it and always I have to bear in mind that there are ânoseyâ people who can see what I am saying if they care to look (chaps playing cards on same table as this).
It doesnât depend on what you look like or whether you can cook or have ever read King Solomonâs Mines . I love you in my bones.
If my letters stop, will you again wonder about my constancy? If you get only a few words on a LC, or a Field Service Card, will you again be aâdoubting and aâworrying? â Please donât. I want my lips to meet yours in understanding, I want to caress you, to kiss your breasts, to put my hot hands full upon your breasts, to squeeze till you cry out. I want to put my face in your bosom, my hands to your loins, then to kiss, then to salute, to meet you there.
I love you.
Chris
22 September 1944
Dearest,
The White Paper on demobilisation, published this morning, is all that is being talked about by our chaps. I think that it might be worse. I have written to Sir E.T. Campbell, my MP, urging him to represent that (1) no scheme shall be allowed to detract from the need for bringing home quickly all men who have spent any length of time overseas, (2) that for such service, one year shall be added to the age, for each two months spent abroad. I donât hope for much from Campbell, but I think it right to let him know the view of most chaps here. He is a Conservative, a supposed poet, responsible for these lines:
âIt is Hitler, the Hun, we are up against,
For all that he does is sinister,
And the best way to put an end to him,
Is to assist Churchill, our great Prime Minister.â
Donât, for goodnessâ sake, spend more than a couple of shillings on Geology. I should be disgusted if you did, as I shall have the run of the libraries when I get home.
You say my sex (as
Similar Books
