Didn’t expect a letter, now did you? Wasn’t it just too-too sweet of me to write you despite the knowledge that I’d be home before you got it? It has an ULTERIOR MOTIVE behind it all – you have to very very nice to me right away.
I felt awful on Saturday after Friday night’s party. At least that is what I anticipate at the moment. I’m afraid it will be too confusing for me to write in the past tense as what is yet to happen has already done so. I’ll get back to my state of mind on Friday Aug 27th
Had an interesting trip to the cattle Station “Humpty-doo”1The town of Humpty Doo was named after the cattle station which though comparatively small for this, is silly writing you a letter about something I’ve already told you. Consider this purely as a happy good day note and a reminder to you of my sterling qualities.
Just consider how happy I am to be home. And how I like to see your sweet little mug again.
Well what are you waiting for, I’m here aren’t I?
Or would you rather have a cuppa?
A big kiss
The town of Humpty Doo was named after the cattle station
This I hope will be the last letter you get before you get me personal like.
Unless someone, or something causes a priority travel hitch I should be back home Monday evening. So get yourself polished up today my girl – I’ll be seeing you tonight down by the Bay.
Didn’t have a party on our anniversary. The lads here are saving up for a do on Friday night – farewell to some Flight – Loot who is going down on leave. Looks as if I may be included in the festivities – we, I hope, (not because of his company but because of the plane) shall travel down together. Had three glasses of beer on the great occasion. They drank our health and I drank yours.
From Friday, August 20, through to Monday, August 23, 1943, Wep was on assignment at a Mission Station on Milingimbi Island. Whilst absent, Wep penned a letter to Jess, of which the first 13 pages have been lost or misplaced.
Continuation of letter written 23 August
…. but plain damn silly. I wish you hadn’t told me. Anyway I’ll be home within a week of you getting this letter. So expect a lot of things to look up.
Had a fair trip back. Couldn’t see much as we were flying blind in bush fire smoke for a hundred miles. Am glad to be back and have already made application for my return trip. Hurry up that new dress and look your damndest. Only the two of us together the night I come back.
Am getting tired as I have had to put off writing tonight until the typists gave up the ghost – which they unwillingly did about 10.30pm. Didn’t sleep to well over on the island. The nights turned out too cold for only two blanket over me and the sand fly itches gave me de woiks. Used to wake at 2 or 3am, or even earlier I imagine, & toss for the remainder of the night. No good.
And so to bed. – Goodnight my darling. I hope you managed the anniversary pleasantly & tolerably happily. I haven’t got to mine yet although I’m only about ¾ hour off the 24th August. Lots of love sweet, save yours all up for my return.
Good morning my bride. Tis the wedding morn. Ten years removed. Got your telegram – Thanks a lot dear. I hope you got mine on the right day. I had to get the man mountain1Fellow corresopndent Jimmy Smyth from the Truth and Daily Mirror newspapers who stood 6′ 5″ tall here to send it for me on Monday as I was still away. They say that it would get there on the auspicious occasion. I hope so. Everyone has wished me happy anniversaries. To give the real domestic flavour to the day I have lit up the copper and am about to do the washing.
Am trying to get air transport to Sydney, but there seems to be some bother, a lot of the air services have been cut down. So, at the moment I’m still in the air (i.e metaphorically speaking) again. Give me the works when you dress up for the happy day.
Little flowers for anniversary day. They were a frangipani & a pretty red wild bloom.
Years later in a letter (2 September 1972) written to John Olsen congratulating him on being awarded a commission to paint his mural Salute to Five Bells at the Sydney Opera House, Wep recalled his trip to Millingimbi Mission.
“Was intrigued to see your bright shininess cavorting over the Arnhem Land – Fascinating! A lucky well deserved jaunt. What a place. During the war I made a trip (by plane) to Milingimbi – Never forget the swamps and Christ knows what we flew over to get there. The bloody beautiful birds in their millions! Nice, the indications of what you were doing about them. I can still remember the roar of the wings over the lagoons of Humpty Doo.”
Story about the Planes that crashed in Milingimbi in WWII – Ganygulpa Dhurrkay and Jimmy Burpur and SImon Gaykamangu telling stories about the bombing of Milingimbi and cleanup of the crashed World War II planes by Milingimbi ALPA CDP workers. Produced by ALPA CDP media student Hazel Wanambi
You won’t be getting another letter after this one for at least 4 days as I am leaving at dawn tomorrow. Hope to get back here on Monday night. I hope to heavens the sand flies grant me some mercy – otherwise I’ll be coming home an object of abhorrence with itchy excrescence liberally besprinkling my poor old bod.
It is 8pm at the moment & I sweat like a pig. No better this morning – God damn it I’ll have to wait until Tuesday now before I know what gives out down there in Sydney. The last letter I received from you was attached to the cutting re the much publicised Ron Bennett.1Ron Bennett was Art Director at The Australian Women’s Weekly and a close friend of Bill’s and Jess for many years Pretty horrible to have all that stuff splashed about in a blasted rag like Truth.2Artist Alleges Drunkenness Against His Wife (1943, August 8). Truth (Sydney, NSW : 1894 – 1954), p. 20. I should imagine Betty is slinking around in a hell of a state. I notice she is not defending. Doesn’t seem much she can do about it.
Have done nothing today but tour the town during the morning and go for a swim in the afternoon. The tide was surprisingly low and we had to walk about 300 yards from the high water mark across an absolutely flat and sloshy sea bottom to reach the water. Another 100 yards or so till we were in water only up to Fred. Did’nt fancy it much – kept thinking of sharks and the long run home. Hermit crabs (tiny crabs which find an empty shell get inside it for protection and pull it around with them) lung fish (a small species of fish which can breathe out of water and come up on the sand for sunbaking) were in their hundreds squiggling and crawling all over the place.
Very little to report save the indignation and dismay of war correspondents who object to doing their own washing and ironing. As OFFICERS & GENTLEMEN they claim a batman. The Department of Public Relations has recalled the original unit which was serving the crowd here and replaced it with a fresh bunch which is 2 men lighter & have issued an edict that the press men are not entitled to the rights of Army Officers who in this respect have all their work done for them by their individual batman. There has been a great protest meeting – their dignity has been insulted. What will the commoner think of to see them as Officers choring at the tub. At the thought of it one goes purple in the face, another grows pallid, yet another shakes as with a palsy. All by the grace of God are not speechless, indeed they as a body are extraordinarily vociferous both orally and in writing. Typewriters are running hot, pleas & denunciations march forth in effort to regain the status quo. I, like Pilate, wash my pants and say, “what is washing?” It’s all very funny to me – I’m not staying.
At the moment of going to press the boys are not holding their own. Urgent signals for reinforcements from newspaper proprietors have been sent. The battle is begun. I have designed the banners – newsprint drawers, pants and socks are hanging on the wireless aerial stretched across the mess. Each bears an appropriate motto. Death before dishonour!!
I hope nothing prevents my return on Monday as I want to be sure the telegram gets to you on Tuesday. If it misses it won’t be my fault.
There is just a possibility you’ll get this letter on the wonderful 24th so if you do take it as a loving wish for lots more of them to come darling. We’ll celebrate both our tenth and your birthday on the 5th. We’ll make it a real day my dear. On the 24th do everything I’d like you to do and nothing I wouldn’t like and I’ll do the same. The boys may have a bit of a party for us. Have a good time yourself. Once more – many returns.
And now bung-ho, wifie!
Ron Bennett was Art Director at The Australian Women’s Weekly and a close friend of Bill’s and Jess for many years
Am just sneaking the use of one of the lad’s typewriter while he’s out on a job. Came to after a spot of spine-bashing to find the place empty. Have done nothing at all today except sit around on my arse and be bored – time I had a bit of a rest of sorts. The boys are on their way back so off with the machine and up with the pen.
Sitting around is soul destroying – I can’t settle down to working in this mess as there are absolutely blink-all in the way of facilities for such a comfort loving craftsman (?) such as myself. The moment of 5.20pm finds me sunning in the same spot as I occupied yesterday and pursuing the delightful occupation of considering your dear charms & graces. Sweet, what?
This is by far the most pleasant time of day – the sun seems stationary & shines with mellow warmth – the breeze, soft and sensuous, slides round every limb. I wish it were a little fiercer – this colour I’m after is anything but permanent – damn me if it doesn’t appear to wash off under the shower. Maybe it’s only red dust impregnated in the skin. In any case it is a highly impermanent pigment.
At dawn this week am off on the plane trip I spoke of. I’m supposed to be one of the crew – heh! heh! You won’t get any mail from me until I return from the island. I will be 2 or 4 days there – other than the planes there is no mail contact. So don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while.
I’m getting a bit sick of the unsatisfying contact letters afford. I don’t feel like writing to any length. The novelty of things has gone – and I’m just anxious to get home – all very similar to the counting of days before vacation, only I’m in reverse.
I’m still mooning about the house – gawd help me there’s nothing to damned well read in blasted place. I’ve been through all the magazines more times than the covers can stand up to. I can’t be bothered with newspapers a week old. The books (what there are of them) are dull – I’d ever write one if I wasn’t so languid – It’s a wonderfully lazy joint. Haven’t seen anyone sitting down to a good solid think since I left the zero regions. If & when I go away again something long & heavy in the way of literature will accompany me.
Cheerful, breezy, letter, yes? Voted today – i.e. 3 days before election day. An enormous amount of work is involved in army polling. Every vote has to be sealed up in an envelope with the soldiers name, address & army no. on it – posted down, unsealed, counted, etc. Probably take longer in this election to get final figures than is usually the case. I hope you didn’t give Old Billy your approval.1The 1943 election was won by the Australian Labor party lead by John Curtin with 49 seats, a gain of 17 seats. They defeated the coalition of the United Australia Party and the Country Party who won 19 seats, losing 18. Interestingly, the coalition was lead by Arthur Fadden who was the leader of the Country Party, the minor partner to the United Australia Party, lead by Billy Hughes (a former Labor Prime Minister) who had taken over in 1941 after Robert Menzies resigned. Following the Coalition’s crushing defeat, Fadden handed the leadership of the Opposition back to Menzies who had resumed leadership of the UAP.
Later again – have been out for a walk round the town & called into the YMCA2The YMCA was situated at the Inter-church club, corner of Smith and Peel streets. – quite a decent place 3 full sized billiard tables – piano – books & all the what have yous. Borrowed 2 books – may keep me quiet for a while.
Still restless – have suggested some supper. Approval has been expressed. We shall sit down to a frugal snack of cold boiled eggs, tomatoes, sliced tongues and hock.
That operation was efficiently taken care of – we are all now in advanced stage of pre-spine bashing somnolence – the brains of many have already gone to sleep. Mine included. Will retire to my cot in which I sleep with only a sheet & the old man Fred.
Lots of love darling – hope to get a letter tomorrow – seems a bloody long time since one arrived.
And so to bed
Enclosed find some local blooms of Bougainvilleas – press them to your heart.
[Then all crossed out.]
Would you please write out a cheque for 28/- payable to Hugh Dash & put this accompanying letter with it & mail it to Hugh Dash, c/o “Courier Mail”, Queen St, Brisbane. I tried to send it direct from here but there are no postage notes available until Sunday on which date I will be away.
Love to my
The 1943 election was won by the Australian Labor party lead by John Curtin with 49 seats, a gain of 17 seats. They defeated the coalition of the United Australia Party and the Country Party who won 19 seats, losing 18. Interestingly, the coalition was lead by Arthur Fadden who was the leader of the Country Party, the minor partner to the United Australia Party, lead by Billy Hughes (a former Labor Prime Minister) who had taken over in 1941 after Robert Menzies resigned. Following the Coalition’s crushing defeat, Fadden handed the leadership of the Opposition back to Menzies who had resumed leadership of the UAP.
The YMCA was situated at the Inter-church club, corner of Smith and Peel streets.
Am back in the correspondents’ mess again. Arrived in this morning after a car trip of some 4 hours. The weather here is certainly to be preferred to that at the bomber strip1Fenton airfield which I reckon must be the hottest blarsted spot in the whole N.T. Think I might have got a touch of the sun yesterday after setting out in the middle of a glaring road with no shirt on. Felt quite sick after ½ hour or so although I didn’t get burnt much. Possibly the glare of white paper with the sun shining on it may have been responsible. Anyway, I up & left. One of the yank officers reckoned I must have been a bit troppo to pick the spot in the first place what with the heat & thundering great trucks raising all smothering dust within 20 yards of me, etc.
Working out of doors in the middle of the day knocks you up alright. I feel positively exhilarated at the prospect of the cool Sydney spring. We’ll go out places together – eh? I’m practically certain to be down before your birthday. If I get transport accommodation OK. So when you get a telegram from me you’ll know to meet me at Rose Bay.2Arriving via sea plane I’ll be looking for you – save up some juice. I won’t be able to tell you much in the telegram I shall send when I leave – It will be up to you to find out time of my arrival. Put some beer in the frige for us. Which reminds me to tell you I am happily having my weekly bottle at the very moment. It’s extremely good & most welcome as I have just finished doing the weeks washing & ironing 3 shirts 3 pants, handkerchiefs, underpants socks & towel. It’s hot work in these h’yar parts. The weather is getting warmer as the wet season approaches. Blarsted flies are banging about too – damn their wings. Don’t worry about me drinking a lot. There isn’t that much here! Even a few knocks everyone and I haven’t had more than 4 real hangovers in 6 weeks. I don’t suppose I have lost much weight really. Although one sweats to a prodigious extent water is consumed in replaceable quantities.
Have now taken up my pew in the sunshine as I must bring you back some visible indication of the tropics. One’s colour is said to disappear very quickly so I shall devote my last days here solely to the acquisition of a body tone you will really want to touch. Cunning little man!
Have also switched radio on and am listening to short wave transmission from the eastern states – whether Sydney or Melbourne or Brisbane I, as yet, don’t know. Ah me – how I am suffering.
Have just heard it was from Sydney.
Am becoming quite benign in all my attitudes – the bottle is practically empty. My good intentions of a long letter weaken – my sole desire at the moment is to sit by radio and dream happily & nebulously about you. With the pilots I say “I’ve had this place” – but also I say – “I want to have you”
A week today to the 24th. Oh dear! I wish I could buy you something! Some little permanent thing we could keep for remembrance of our tenth. After all it’s quite a while. If you should see anything buy it for me to you. Up the clothes, I’ll buy them for you anyway. But I guess there is nothing left about anywhere. Maybe King in his second hand snoopings will see something. However don’t worry pet, about it – one day I’ll find something. Your best present to me will be to look your prettiest & to be ever so pleased about my being back. I think of you such a hell of a lot now. Seems as if I’m back at the going out to Brighton stage in my love life. High time I changed the record – playing this old lonely note doesn’t help either of us much.
You appear to be living an extremely quiet life. For goodness sake honey don’t drive yourself nuts. I hope you are eating something substantial occasionally for there has to be something left for me to grab hold of.
I’ve just come back from the pictures – a waste of time sadly regretted – the Ritz Bros in “3 Roaring Romeos”3“3 Roaring Romeos” (1939) was originally titled in the U.S.A. in 1939 as “The Three Musketeers” starring Don Ameche and The Ritz Brothers – My God! What a show!
Have plenty cigs for you. Looks almost as if I have been receiving stolen goods.
I should be able to write you for hours tonight as I am (believe it or not) the only inmate at present incarcerated in the asylum. All the others are out on their job. There’s been quite a bit of plane activity about here lately and they are covering all the news angles from the pilots, bombardiers & so on and so forth. 3 of the fighter pilots I was staying with bagged a bird each.42022 Cooper, Anthony; Darwin Spitfires; the real battle for Australia; “The triumph of 17 August”, pp477-486 Nice going. You’ll read about it all in the papers before this letter reaches you.51943 ‘AUSTRALIAN PLANES IN N.-WEST THRASH JAPS.’, The Courier-Mail (Brisbane, Qld. : 1933 – 1954), 19 August, p. 3
Wish I had our coleman stove – I’d set down right now to hot toast & asparagus. As things are I would have to build a wood fire. That’s too much.
Still haven’t any butter. Altogether I’ve had it only a week & a half since arriving. Oh boy, will I make a hog of myself down south.
Have just turned on short wave radio to some oriental station broadcasting some indescribably mournful dirge which suits my present mood like a tight collar. It’s really wonderfully glum. One of these days I must get me a short wave set – an amazing variety of stuff comes over – surely sufficient to suit every mood.
I’m still trying to make up my mind as to whether I should or should not, wolf the asparagus. The betting at the moment is two to one on that I do. May as well get something inside me – you can’t tell but that the yellow men may not be over later tonight. The moon is still perfect – they have had time to rest their bomber crews after the last raid – and they a getting a bashing from the yanks here – which sort of thing tends to make them a little angry. Perhaps I should remain awake a while – with no one in the house I may stay asleep at the wrong moment.
Only 14 or 15 days before I clear off. I’m beginning to count them. I suppose you will too, now that I have told you what I hope to do.
Asparagus is out in front turning into the straight – it’s no race folk – Asparagus wins pulling up, 3 bellyfuls in front of Some Bread and NO Butter.
So lots of love and kisses
Arriving via sea plane
“3 Roaring Romeos” (1939) was originally titled in the U.S.A. in 1939 as “The Three Musketeers” starring Don Ameche and The Ritz Brothers
2022 Cooper, Anthony; Darwin Spitfires; the real battle for Australia; “The triumph of 17 August”, pp477-486
Just a note – I haven’t much time to write at any length as I’m only staying at this American bomber field for a day. This will be fully occupied getting around & having a look see. It is a big camp & takes a lot of covering. Will let you know more about it later.
Won’t be getting back to Darwin until Wednesday which is unfortunate as I can’t get my mail until I return. Hope everyone got my letters OK. Unless Mrs Jackson1Alice Jackson; editor of the Australian Women’s Weekly gets up here before I leave I expect to be home fairly shortly – am getting to the stage of saying Thank God for that.
The yanks do themselves pretty well in the way of food – they have more variety & pay much more attention to its preparation than do our own troops.
Expect to be making back along the road tomorrow and to complete a couple of notes I have taken.
Christ it’s hot here. Sweat is just cascading off me. However it is not all distressing – feels quite pleasant as a matter of fact as the breeze evaporates it almost immediately. Nothing like Sydney’s heat – i.e. Sydney’s summer heat to you.
Lots & lots of love honey. Am looking forward to getting your letters – I feel quite out of date.
A bloody bushwhacker, that’s what I am.
More love from
P.S. A booful flower from a NT gum tree for you.
Alice Jackson; editor of the Australian Women’s Weekly
I’m still here. I suppose you gave me a little thought when you read that N.T. area had been raided by 18 Jap planes on Friday night.1Four raids occurred on the night of Friday 13th August and the early hours of Saturday morning. They were aimed at Hughes Airfield, Fenton airfield (9:45pm), Fenton & Coomalie Creek airfields (11:12pm) and Long airfield in the early hours of Saturday, August 14th (Japanese Air Raids in Australia During WW2, Dunn, P. 2013, Australia@War). The raid which Wep refers to was most likely the attack at 11:12pm on Fenton and Coomalie Creek where he had been staying two nights earlier. Well, your little Willie was right out of it. It occurred during the middle of the party I spoke of in my last letter. We were all gathered around some tables in the middle of the bush not far from one of the air strips (as they call the aerodromes here) when the warning came over. Some of the pilots had to dash off to their Spitties. The lights went off and we continued our drinking in the bright moonlight assisted by the light of a parachute flare which one of the Jap planes dropped over the area. Old deafie didn’t hear the planes – there was so much alcoholic conversation being broadcast. A moment later ack-ack fire started – booms & flashes split the night. Shrapnel from the bursts fell in the camp where I stayed last week. Fortunately for us the Japs weren’t after the fighter planes – they flew past & dropped their eggs near 2 bomber fields. One of these I described to you as being situated in the hills. I stayed there on Wednesday night.2Coomalie Creek Airfield The yellow boys might just as well have saved their time, petrol and bombs as neither damage nor casualties (so far as I have heard) were inflicted. So – a miserable flare is all I’ve seen of the war up in this front line. There appears to be an expectation of another bash tonight – it being a magnificently full moon. Perhaps it is just as well I’m not in Darwin or staying in a bomber camp, although they tell me that even a poor bloody Allied Works Council camp stopped a stick of bombs last night. The only physical stress I have collected is plenty of bites – and then some. I scratch like a lousy old dog.
The party was pretty willing while it lasted. Met a Spitty pilot from one of the squadrons who asked how both you and I were keeping. We met him outside St James theatre with Paul Brennan and some others just before they left for Canada two years ago.
Have just been asked if I’d like to go down to an American bomber field tomorrow. Think I’ll go down & see what sort of holes the bombs made. I don’t know that it would be terrible healthy to stay down there – I’ll see about that later.
Cripes I’m missing you honey. Am really looking forward to getting home. This life of celibacy is not what it’s cracked up to be. You’re in for a torrid time my chicabiddy when the bronzed old boy gets back. I don’t know that you’ll go much on my colour/pattern – I’m getting browned as far as the waist only, from there down snow white takes over. Have been letting my mo grow a pace – perhaps you should buy me a moustache cup.
How are the Watson family coming along? How’s the concrete idiot child? And Bib & Bub?
Very quiet night – we are all sitting round like little goody boys – all writing to our dearests and sweetests. All of which refers me back to wimmimck(?) How’s Tommy’s Art for arts(?) sake? Has he had the animated Selina out again? Did you see her stripped – is she still much the same?
Sunday morning [15 Aug 1943] before breakfast
I get up early – as a rule before the sun. The night passed off without incident which is all very well.
Called at a Sergeants’ tent before going to bed. They were all on the jungle juice – a potent and horrible brew of their own manufacture made out of anything they can lay their hands on – prunes, dried fruits – potato peelings, jam – sugar & old boots, topped off with a liberal dose of yeast. It looks like milk bar washing up water and tastes and smells like old yeast. It is alleged to turn the mildest of men into maniacal dervishes. I didn’t have any. The conversation was still on the dames and what they would do to them on return to the flesh pots of our fair city in the south.
That’s all for the moment, dear Willie is signing off. Get your squeezing muscles ready my sweet for the old boy won’t be long now. (I hope!) Love in bundles for Jessie.
No 1. I live in tents – i.e. at different places – not in tents at one time.
No 2. A pilot wrote that on your letter – he was in his cups – I’ll decipher it for you later.
Four raids occurred on the night of Friday 13th August and the early hours of Saturday morning. They were aimed at Hughes Airfield, Fenton airfield (9:45pm), Fenton & Coomalie Creek airfields (11:12pm) and Long airfield in the early hours of Saturday, August 14th (Japanese Air Raids in Australia During WW2, Dunn, P. 2013, Australia@War). The raid which Wep refers to was most likely the attack at 11:12pm on Fenton and Coomalie Creek where he had been staying two nights earlier.
After posting yesterday’s letter I had a most welcome surprise. One of your letters was delivered to me via the good graces of an Officer who had been in Darwin. It was quite a treat.
I have a box of 200 cigs put away for you. I can’t bring anything else much down because I will still have weight limits to consider on the place trip.
See if you can buy some poultry shears. I don’t know what I want – leave till I come home – it won’t be long. Whacko the dinner – and after?! Your letters ar’nt [sic] censored. So speak freely. Am back now with the crowd from Sydney. Amused them all last night with mad sketches of them waiting for a shower and straining at the stool. They were well received. Prior to the padre’s (there is one here at the moment) departure last night the drawings were strictly on the up & up.
One of the Captains here took me for a run to the dam which supplies Darwin with water.1Manton Dam, about 70km (43 miles) south of Darwin was constructed by the Department of Defence and completed in 1942. It’s a pretty big affair and water is held back for about 7 miles. The Manager of the plant there lives in a delightful cottage overlooking the river which flows from the foot of the spillway. Tall and gracious ti trees intermingled with pandanas palms and eucalypts shade the languid water lilies. His house on the hillside is surrounded with the greenest pawpaws, bananas, jacarandas and gums. A rustic fountain plays amid tropical lilies speckled like coleus. Bush orchids hang on the trees, citrus fruit, chrysanthemums, flocks and tomatoes add variety to the pattern. Hanging baskets of purple backed leaves complete the picture. The dam itself is full of fish which we could quite plainly see – perch – garfish – & one tiny snake swimming on the surface – a boat is moored nearby. It’d make a wonderful weekender. Apparently anything grows at any time during the dry season. The ground is extraordinarily indulgent when supplied with plenty of water.
The climate is getting one a bit lazy now. Also I am becoming somewhat rattled as time is drawing to a close – there are so many odds & ends I want to check on. I suppose I’ll find I haven’t half enough stuff or have overlooked something – when I start in re drawing it all.
Next weekend I am flying over to a mission station2Believed to be Bathurst Island where are plenty of blacks etc. Should be a wad of material in it. Native dances, tropical scenery. Air force base, shipping scenes, crocodiles – in fact – the whole works.
You can’t help but be amused at the conversation in the territory. Only 2 basic topics – women & beer discussed ad infinitum. Lurid speculation precedes the arrival of the Tivoli ballet. I shudder to think of the boys’ conversation after each performance.
Have borrowed a pair of shorts from the Loot at Darwin, hoping to get my legs a bit sunburnt – so far all I have collected is several hundred sand fly bites. A microscopic fly with a Gargantuan bite.
Am due at the big do tonight so cheerio whilst I am still whole & healthy.
Lots of love sweetheart
from your Willie.
Manton Dam, about 70km (43 miles) south of Darwin was constructed by the Department of Defence and completed in 1942.