7364652 Cpl  RJ Meddings

137 Field Ambulance

C/0 Army Post Office

My dearest Mother,

I got your letters this morning – eight letters all told – two from you, two from sister Kathleen Mary, one from big brother Henry, one from sister Myrtle, one from Kathleen Fielden, and one from Alan Clarke.  It was the first mail for three weeks.  I grabbed my letters just as I was setting out for a bath (we do bathe occasionally).  I walked down the hill in the sunshine tearing open the first letter – one of yours – and I had a big lump in my throat, I was so happy.  The sun never shone so brightly, bless you.  Some other soldiers passing by, shouted “Does she still love you?” and I replied “Yes, they all do” which was, I hope, the literal truth.

I am settling down for half-an-hour, although I am quite xx, to reply to our letters.  Let me first of all say that if you realise from what I have just said, how precious letters from home are to me, as to all of us, you will write often.

I am well and happy.

If you listened to the BBC news the other day you will have heard the 49th division mentioned, but I hope you don’t start any unnecessary worrying.

I have written to Frank.  I did not know he had officially taken to the air.  I think there is going to be lots of work for him and his colleagues, so more power to his elbow.

I hear that Alan Carke is now in the army – RASC, so Kathleen Fielden says.

You certainly look like having a busy summer with your infants and their attachments and I, of course, would be the unlucky one. It isn’t enough that I was the only deficiency at Christmas.  Still, they won’t have the pleasure of going home to look forward to.

I intend to write as many letters as my job will permit, so you may assure all of the people who appear to be clamouring for letters that I aint forgot ‘em.

Primroses – primroses. You would remind me of England.

I have made several vows, since I have been here, including one never to complain about Sundays being dull.  I would give a good deal for a peaceful Sunday afternoon walk.

Snakes alive, don’t tell me that Papa is worrying, my faith in human nature would be shattered.  Listen, if he spent four years seeking glory and medals (unless they thrust the darn things on him) and then lived through to enjoy a ripe old age, don’t think that a shy violet like your second son is going to walk into trouble.  I shall turn up like a bad penny, and an English penny, not a Norwegian one (I say that because coins in Norwegian all have a hole in ‘em).

As for your insistence that I should write for anything I want you have no need to worry, because I certainly will.  If this war goes on for any length of time, I am going to be worth quite a lot of money, as I shan’t spend much here, I think.

I am sorry to disappoint you but I am afraid there will be no third stripe for this child.  The third clerk’s stripe has been awarded to Ridge (you know, the schoolteacher one of the boys) and I am very glad of it.  Not only is he my senior, but he is a good chap and a very good friend of mine.  In fact he fathers the whole of we office people.

It appears, however, that I am to remain as H.Q. clerk and I am pleased about that, too, because it gives more scope.

So that’s that.  Please convey my apologies to Sergt Meddings Senior and Sergt Meddings Junior, for my failure to maintain the family tradition!

I don’t like to waste any of this paper, because it is beautiful stuff to write on, but am now empty of news. (Don’t worry about the heavy rubbings out). It’s not the Censor, its just me.  Remember that I always made a letter look like a battlefield.

Goodnight, and Bless you all, Love to Aunties and cousins and such, and love to Gran, and to Dad, and Marjorie, and Kitty and to you.

Your loving son,

Ronald

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ps Some “spares” for the Aunts.  You will make me quite conceited.  Still, mothers think the strangest things.