Friday night again. This time it's the end of the first month of the new year. My how the time rolls around.
I received only one letter from you this week and that was No. 44. I have received all since No. 37 or was it 27. A very good record but I should have received a more recent one this week, No. 44 was dated over a month ago.
I was over to Olive's last evening. We had a good wood fire in the fireplace and enjoyed discussing the picture that we saw on Tuesday. We then made toast and Olive made a cheese spread with an egg in it; that with treacle pie and coffee went jolly good. I walked home in a mild rain.
Tomorrow I shall go to Richmond as usual and see of any O.H.M.S. mail is there for me. In all probability I shall stay for supper with Miss Sendimore and Miss Day. On Sunday I think I shall plan to go to Catford and see the Higgins, Garth's friends. I have set out on several occasions to find them but so far have not done so. I have been to Catford but have not had time at my disposal to look them up. It is hopeless to try to find anyone after dark these days.
I wonder what you are doing tonight. Perhaps sitting with Peter [their cat] writing a letter to me--conceit my what? At any rate it is pleasant to think so.
We have had much rain this week but fortunately so far have not lost any time at work. It has only been due to the kindness of the foreman that we have not done so as I'm afraid, precious little work was done on one or two days.
Life is not very exciting these days. Jerry has been over almost every day but diesn't seem to be kicking up much. Lone planes....illegible... high in the constant mist and low clouds. He drops a few bombs in certain parts of London, but our particular area has had a long rest. No doubt he is trying to confuse our command in order to give himself a maximum surprise effect. I don't think he will get very far if, as and when he decides to invade this country.
I suppose more and more Canadians are finding their way into Active Service Forces. If this war continues much longer, everybody and his dog will be engaged in come capacity. It is remarkable to see so many women over here taking up trades as munition making, transportation, A.R.P. (Air Raid Precaution) work. There must be millions employed in such work all over the country.
I think I shall make a point of looking in on the Air Force next week just to stir them up a bit. Gee, it is very hard waiting like this. I really thought that I should be wearing uniform by this time.
Mother, in her letter to me last week, mentioned that Doug is planning to make a trip to the Maritimes in the spring. Is he in the army yet?
Heaps of love Dearie and take good care of yourself.
I'm waiting to hear if you received Letters Nos. 34 & 38--each of which contained a 1 pound note. Heaps of love and I long greatly for you. I won't snore, not until you are sound asleep, wearing from talking.
Waiting endless is tough, but Jones keep plodding along. He never doubts but that he will be accepted. We don't know why he was so determined to join the RAF, but he is. Perhaps he had enough of the army in WWI.
9 Bonamy St.
Sun. Feb 2nd/41
How is my love tonight? Here beside a fire alone with you wondering what you are doing at this very moment. It is just a bit early for you to be having supper. Perhaps some of the folk are over from Hamilton. I like to think of somebody being there with you. My thoughts have been with you all day long and somehow you are very near tonight.
Yesterday instead of going to Richmond I telephoned. As there was no post for me I decided to go to Catford and look up Mrs. Higgins (Cyril Garth's aunt). I found 23 Fordel Road alright, but the occupant informed me that Mrs. Higgins has not lived there for nine years or so as they have been there that long and they seemed to recall the name of Higgins as that of the people whom they succeeded.
Please ask Cyril to check up and let me have the proper address. From Catford I decided to look up Mrs. Cornelius, a friend of Atlee Clark's. She lives at Blackheath village, No. 51 Lee Road. I took a bus and a two penny ride brought me to the gate. I was ushered in by the maid and waited in a very large drawing room for further appearance. A smart looking middle aged gentleman appeared and introduced himself as Mr. Cornelius, he showed me to the toilet (generally the first act of hospitality in this country) and then ushered me into another living room, on the ground floor, in which were two beds. In one, sitting upright was a gray-haired young looking woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Cornelius. They had heard from her brother Mr. Higginson (Atlee Clark's neighbor) whom I had met at Atlee's house the night I spent in Montreal, and had been expecting me to call. The maid served tea and we sat and talked for an hour or so. Mr. Cornelius then walked down towards Blackheath Hill with me. They both seemed anxious that I call again soon. I assured them I would do so.
They live in a beautiful old manor house with a very extensive lot (chiefly garden) at the rear. A big bomb has made a huge crater, bowling over many trees, some of which were well over a hundred years old. I was very favorably impressed by the Corneliuses and think I shall like them very much. Another place for Sweetheart to visit I'm thinking. Mr. Cornelius' office has miraculously escaped damage so far. It is just alongside of what was the famous Guildhall in the city of London.
I expect post from tomorrow or the next day. I have received no letter since Tuesday. The last letter I received was No. 51. You sent two letters numbered 45 so you are really one up on me, not counting those which are doubtless on their way here.
I am planning to visit the Air Force headquarters this week. I shall ask the foreman for a few hours off and try to do something to awaken the dead.
I went over to church on Old Kent Road, just three or four blocks away. A mere handful of people were assembled in the vestry of a great big church. All about the church one could see demolished shops and buildings. So far the church, apart from a few broken windows, is intact. I stayed to communion service. Afterwards I met the Rector, Rev. Mr. Moore. We had quite a chat. He invited me to his lodging, which has been hit by a bomb and has no roof, but he still occupies it as he wishes to be with his church people. He was with the Canadians in the last war at Vimy Ridge [So they would have had lots to talk about, as Jones was also at Vimy.] His wife is in the west of England. Just Mr. Moore and his daughter, who works at the gas works, are living together. I promised to visit them sometime.
Heaps of love Sweetheart. I long and long for you and continually pray that we shall soon be together.
A great big hug & kiss to caress you to sleep.