Army Post Office
[15 Jul 1943]
Or should I say darling? This is the first time I have been alone in this house. Until 11 pm typewriters & dopes clack out their stuff and I cannot settle down to think of you and myself to the exclusion of everyone else.
God, darling, if you and I had a house to ourselves (and heavens know there are many empty) we would have a time such as only those days in the trailer gave us. Tonight for some reason one of the permanent lieutenants asked me to accompany him for a drink. He & his & our understrapping sergeant enlisted more or less together in 1940 and they have a fellow feeling or pact to get stinking at least once a week together. Tonight they asked me to accompany them. This of course all under the lap as far as this end is concerned as officers & sergeants just don’t drink together. Be that as it may it was my privilege (and I take it as such) to have been the only one asked to drink with them. From what I can gather they really hate the guts of the fellow correspondents! Any goodwill I seem to have gathered is because I still can mix with people of the lowlier orders without being the perfect quince &/or pounce, or pounce or (blast it you know what I mean!).
There is so much to tell you honey. I can’t fit it all in these rapid scribblings. The pages left unsaid in which I could say how much I would like you to be here are legion. I went to the pictures again tonight & saw “Johnny Eager”. Robert Taylor & Lana Turner. God only knows why they insist on showing pictures in which the dames crawl all over the man’s body. Not very helpful to the troops. Got home about 10.30. (Harold Dick took us in his car by the way.) Had a couple of gins on return & then went out with this chappy and polished off (amongst us) some port & sherry. Returned about 1. Strangely enough I felt very restless & a bit sick. I tried to get to bed – lay there ½ hour, decided to put the old finger down the throat & write you. Not since Thursday previous to my leaving have I had so much to drink. (Special note – The mosquitoes are really eating me alive. When I say that it’s no foolin!) Everyone is asleep and its nice and peaceful and I feel as if I love you with the affection of a thousand Willies in the month of July 1932. Look after yourself, pettie.
Went for a swim today. The water was wonderful. The whole setup was much the same as we had at George Warnecke’s place at Ettalong. The weather is the same & the surroundings fairly similar.
Tomorrow I am going on the road again. Always it is about as far as Mittagong to get anywhere. And the dust is colossical. I’m getting an occupational disease – you could almost call it potters lungs – there is so much clay about.
Have spent the day on the beach watching a regimental anniversary picnic. Quite a GOOD SHOW marred only by the untimely death of the pig for the greasy pig race. Poor bastard snuffed it about 2 hours before it was due to appear in the race! This really is a wonderful winter climate – you’d go nuts about it. The town is full of slick & well conditioned brown gods – not that you’d notice them! The only soft bodies here are senior officers & war correspondents. Am getting sunburnt. Lolly pink – that’s about my status at the moment. Shall meet fluttery eyed Gloria – from the Officer’s husband, F/O Newton when I get down to Caldwell’s Spitfire Squadron.
Guess I should go to bed.
Send me a little kiss in your letter.
Love from Winnie the Poo
P.S. (Something out the back stinks something dreadful!)