War Letters – Morotai: 24-26 Jan 1945, Morotai; Beer Issue Day

Morotai
Wednesday about 3:30pm
24th Jan [1945]

Darling,

Am sitting down somewhere on this bloody island supposedly watching a game of Australian Rules football which is being played between some lads from the squadron I’m with & some naval ratings off a ship which came in a couple of days ago.  I’m sitting on the back seat of a jeep and it’s raining.  I am bored to the point of not being able to breathe.  I can’t go back to the camp as I don’t know where it is.  I must wait till the dreary finish for I’m damned if I know what the blooming game is all about – just seems to be an aimless scramble to me.

Open air cinema, Morotai Open air cinema, Morotai

A Movie a night is a standard diversion. Airmen ignore tropical
A movie a night is a standard diversion. Airmen ignore tropical showers, sweeping searchlights, roar of planes. When full moon shines they can see nothing on the screen, but they sit and listen, anyway – Australian Women’s Weekly, 21 Apr 1945, p8

Have had lots of rain since we arrived on the island – it comes & finishes as a snap of the fingers.  We all sat through the movies & the deluge last night – huddled in ground sheets and gas capes while planes & search lights sliced the sky.  I was conscious of the fact that the war is indeed not far away.  The pilots we are stationed with are off on a bash to a Jap area in the morning – quite a do so far as I can gather.

Am almost off to sleep – so will snooze the game out.  Will manage a little more letter tonight if I have the strength.

-After tea

Am alone for a while.

Friday 7:30 am [26 Jan 1945]

I wasn’t for long.  Interrupted so went off to tea.  After the meal was invited down to have a pot of beer with a bunch of pilots on the other side of the Alley.  It was beer issue day – the boys here get 2 doz. bottles of American beer a month.  The bottles hold only 2 glasses and the beer is very light – about 3% alcohol I should say.  Very pleasant never the less.  Stayed wagging till about 12pm.  Eddie [Dunstan] went on the do at 6am the next morning and was back at 10am.  Apparently the raid was very successful and with no damage to the Beaufighters.  Eddie got a story out of it, but Jack [Hickson] and I saw no sense in sticking our neck out for the sake of mere curiosity as it is almost impossible to get any sort of vision from the Beaufighter.  You can only crane your neck over the pilot’s head if you want to see anything at all.  Spent another day down on the strip – and have just about had this island now.  There is very little stuff which one could call exclusive to this place.  I intend to leave the boys & come home early – within a fortnight I should say.  Conditions for doing a completed job are very nigh impossible.

Have been thinking quite a lot of you and the beautiful Bub.  Hope he is well & has a full set of tats by the time I get home.  How are you keeping yourself?  Eat hearty & don’t leave our little man out on the street corner too often.  Lot of love dear.  I do hope Mum [Mary Jane Graham nee Wray] is alright.

Love from your ratty husband.

[Jess’s father, George Alexander Graham passed away on 14 January 1945. He was buried 16 January, the day Wep left Sydney.]

Study of ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufig
Study of ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufighter of RAAF 30 Squadron, code LY-S
Ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufighter of R
Ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufighter of RAAF 30 Squadron, code LY-S
Ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufighter of R
Ground crew performing maintenance on a Bristol Beaufighter of RAAF 30 Squadron, code LY-S
Wrecked Beaufighter A8-49 being salvaged for parts at Morotai ai
Wrecked Beaufighter A8-49 being salvaged for parts at Morotai airfield
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighte
Salvage crew at Morotai airfield retrieving a wrecked Beaufighter for spares
Ground crews on a Morotai airstrip gather around W.E. Pidgeon (W
Ground crews on a Morotai airstrip gather around W.E. Pidgeon (WEP) as he sketches at a graveyard of shot up and crashed Beaufighters and Boston bombers
Wrecked Beaufghfighters, Thelma and Fortuna III, at Morotai airf
Wrecked Beaufghfighters, Thelma and Fortuna III, at Morotai airfield
Damaged propellor blades from crash landings in an aircraft srap
Damaged propellor blades from crash landings in an aircraft scrapyard at Morotai airfield
Detail study of wrecked Beaufighters nick named Thelma and Fortu
Detail study of wrecked Beaufighters nick named Thelma and Fortuna III, in an aircraft scrapyard of wrecked Beaufighters and Douglas Boston bombers at the Morotai airfield.
Aircraft scrapyard, Morotai airfield
Aircraft scrapyard, Morotai airfield
[Study for Fortuna III and Thelma]
[Study for Fortuna III and Thelma]

AWW 1945-04-21 P8 Wrecked Beaufighters Fortuna III and Thelma Morotai Clr neg 6 - Copy
Fortuna III and Thelma, Morotai; The Australian Women’s Weekly, 21 Apr 1945, p8.

War Letters – New Guinea: 22 Jan 1944, Finschhafen; Barge off Fortification Point

W.E. Pidgeon
(War Correspondent)
C/O DPR
New Guinea Force
Moresby
22nd Jan 44

Darling,

I am writing this in a blooming outpost of the empire – an outpost consisting of a small tent with one table, blanketed, & draped with the cooling form of your dear husband.  He has steamed off & for the first time since arrival is sitting quietly & is tolerably happy.

He has bathed in the placid waters of the Finschhafen area, has aired his body in the cool tropical breeze and has sat on damned shape coral.  With bended neck has gaped at clustered coconuts fifty feet above him – he has carefully avoided standing under them as fractured skulls are collected that there way.

Landed at Lae on the way up.  You can tell Jane [Jess’ mother] that as far as I could see there wasn’t one house standing.  They have just plain disappeared.  It may have been a pleasant enough place in the good old days, but boy, the Air Forces have sure blasted all the charms & graces to high heaven.  The coconuts stick up stripped and shorn & about as long as a 3 weeks beard.

It has turned out not so quiet – the Loot in charge of the business here is sitting opposite writing a letter – or should be.  But then I suppose he likes to talk to someone strange so we have been chatting fop the last ¾ hour.  Consequently I have been dilatory & neglectful of the cultivation of that rather sweet just too too gentle mood into which I had been dissolving with the help of broadcast songs of Betty Grable from a YMCA hut across the way.  Of times I felt like bursting out into “Sing me a Song of the islands” what with the swarms of coconut palms (we are on the edge of a coconut grove plantation) and the lap-lap of the sea to egg me on.

This side of the island is TROPIC.  The hot sweet smell of rotting vegetation under the vine lying trees brings back to mind the typical orchid house.  But the orchids although they are not in flower, at least those I saw weren’t, Hibiscus are!  The whole schmozle looks like a corner of the Botanical Gardens gone to fruit.

Sketch study for 'Barge off Fortification Point'

Barge at Fortification Point
Barge off Fortification Point, reproduced The Australian Women’s Weekly, 10 June 1944, p41; Art Gallery of NSW collection

It doesn’t seem to be hot – it must be hot!  My shirt is stuck on my back like a stamp.  Yet I think the climate is good.  You’d love it for a holiday.  The sea is blue and syrupy as the barge I’m in cuts slowly through to its landing place.  Planes zip most zippily above.

This blarsted (sic) hurricane lamp is making my eyes smart.  My mind wanders whilst I most conscious of the static ache in my bum, brought about by the constant pressure of the tuberosities of the ischium upon the unresponsive board of a box of dehydrated potatoes.

I am writing whilst waiting to take off (not in a plane) on another leg of my journey of which I shall write you at more length when I find some place to settle down for a few nights.

You deserve more than a rough resume committed to paper in circumstances most undesirable.

So lots and lotzer what it takes from dear Willie.

Be good & don’t work
and don’t _______________
“     “     _______________        fill
“     “     _______________        in
“     “     _______________        as
“     “     _______________        required
“     “     _______________

love to you darling

Bill

The light has got me down.  I finish – to spend the rest of the night under the stars staring and sleeping.  You’ll understand what this is about later.

??ou got the mosquitoes.

Goodnight & Sweet Dreams

[parts missing off copy]

 

War Letters – Morotai: 20 Jan 1945, Hollandia; met cousin Ilma’s husband

Hollandia
Saturday 20th Jan 44 [45]
7.20 am

Darling,

Am writing this whilst sitting safely & placidly on a comfortable bed in a comfortable camp.  As you observe I have at last got this pen into some semblance of working order. I hope it stays like this.  Jack Hickson is still asleep – he’s been asleep ever since we left Sydney.

War Correspondent, photographer Jack Hickson, asleep on the tran
War Correspondent, photographer Jack Hickson, asleep on the transport plane to New Guinea

We got here about 6.30 pm yesterday after a strenuous 11 hour trip from Townsville.  And what a trip! 5 hours over the bleeding ocean, through rain squalls & bumps and vague (at least to us) turnings.  Sometimes only a 100 ft or so over the sea & at others 8000.  A dirty trip which caused your old man a certain amount of mental distress.  Landed at Moresby drome where there was only one other plane on the field – that place is plenty dead these days.  Took ½ hour to climb high enough to cross the Owen Stanleys which were covered with enormous clouds.  We then turned up the Ramu Valley but were forced back by cloud before we got near Shaggy Ridge.  Climbed to about 15000 ft & passed over the bottom edge of the Bismarck Range & so to the Finschhafen coast to the accompaniment of more mental agitation.  Took us about 4 more hours flying time to get here which is just over the Dutch border.  Was I glad to land?  Was it good or bad?  No one wanted us as no one had heard of us.  After 1 ½ hours bum warming we managed a frugal meal at an air force camp & finally made our way up to the American Public Relations section of this huge US camp.  We slept here in some luxury.  Was introduced to the major in charge [Richard (Dick) Brewer] who asked me my Christian name.  His reaction to my weighty information was “I am married to Ilma” [Ilma Brewer nee Pidgeon, Wep’s first cousin].  So you see I am living with relatives namely my cousin-in-law.  He asked me how our chee-ild was.  And how is the little pet?  Does he miss dear old da?  Drop me a letter (one only) c/o RAAF Public Relations Morotai – but do it straightaway.  I’ll probably miss it anyway.  Breakfast is due in a few moments. I’ll try to write to greater length when we settle down some place.

Lots of love dear.  Look after yourself, Graham, and Mum.  Giver her my love.

Poppa

(alias Daddas

alias Weppie)

[Richard and Ilma Brewer went back to the US after the war but returned to Australia a few years later to settle permanently. Dick became the General manager for Parker Pens Australia and Ilma earned a PhD and became a Lecturer in Botany at the University of Sydney]

W.E. Pidgeon's (WEP) War Correspondent licence, No. 370, issued
W.E. Pidgeon’s (WEP) War Correspondent licence, No. 370, issued 13 Jan 1945 for his third trip to the south west Pacific war zone.
W.E. Pidgeon's (WEP) War Correspondent licence, No. 370, issued
W.E. Pidgeon’s (WEP) War Correspondent licence, No. 370, issued 13 Jan 1945 for his third trip to the south west Pacific war zone.

21 x 11 cm
American ambulance

War Letters – New Guinea: 9 Jan 1944, Sydney; If anything should happen to me…

Jan 1944

Darling,

If anything should happen to me I’d like you to do a few things that while I was here I didn’t seem to be able (or for that matter, had no point in saying) to tell. Or ask, of you.

Above all, I don’t want you to blow the old top! I expect you to be upset – that is human enough.

But these are the things I want you to do. I couldn’t tell you them – it would sound all so silly and melodramatic.

Go for a trip or something. Don’t hang around the house we lived in. Wipe all the half-wits you and I know are half-wits. Get rid of Molly. And for Christ’s sake don’t finish up the widow Vi. Get married.

Don’t panic. You’ll be getting more money than even you know what to do with. What with office compensation, my insurance, remains of my mother’s property, and your own people’s estate, you will be worth about £5,000. You don’t have to let a cheap hick get hold of you. I would hate the guts of that. Don’t sell your mother’s house. Don’t sell my property. Lend £1,000 to Jack at 5% – he could use it. All in all you should be able to get about £5 to £6  per week without doing a tap.

Please always be a little bit in love with me. Within my pretty lousy way I have loved you. Unspectacularly maybe – but there has been no other.

Please don’t lose that little baby. Perhaps I’m sloppy – but I’d like to leave something behind to justify the old existence.

I love you – at times, wildly, deliriously, and without reason. I have loved you.

Too bad I think that there is nothing after all this. I’d have liked to have seen you.

Snugglepot Bill

[This letter was probably never revealed to Jess till later. It may have been in a sealed envelope, or it may have been given to an associate to give to her in case Bill was killed whilst overseas.]

Note: Bill left for Townsville on 9 January 1944 (Ref: DVA File No. X336636)

War Letters – Borneo: 26 July 1945, Seria; Oil wells set on fire during Japanese evacuation

W. E. Pidgeon
c/o Public Relations
Thursday
26th July [1945]

 

Darling,

Am now on the North East coast of Borneo – still in Brunei protectorate and staying at a place called Seria where the Japs fired the oil wells before evacuation.  These fires are really a sight and  a half.  Hours before you arrive here you can see the smoke billowing into the sky, forming what looks like at  a causal glance a great distant range of hazy mountains.  Closer – the light of the sun is shut out by the smoke and an ominous pall of near darkness and portentous gloom hangs over the jungle.  The fires spout out with a roar like a thousand great blow lamps – the flames, or rather a huge swirling billow of fire twists its way into rolling volumes of thick and pungent smoke.  Am going down this morning to see the boys attempt to put one out.  This is a cert for a “Women’s Weekly” job if the whole business up here is not a cold duck before I finish.

 

Burning oil wells at Seria
Burning oil wells at Seria

I’m getting a bit worried about that as movement in this area is slow and at times difficult to obtain.  I have yet to go to the northern Brunei area and to Balik Papan.  I think I had best speed things up as much as possible.  The jungle here is much more opulent, sleeker, and fatter in the leaf, and in diversity and colour, than that of New Guinea.  Lasiandra grows like a weed all over the place.  It’s a pretty poor specimen – a meager squirt of the thing compared to the one that I used to grow.  How’s it doing since the great disaster?  Do you keep woman wet?

Haven’t had any letters from you yet, but as I have not expected any I guess no damage is done.  How are things going with you – I hope your mother is not pumping too much food into your petite frame.  Have not seen anything worthwhile bringing home.  I’m afraid the early troops have cleaned out everything of any style or value.

Went down to very well spoken chinese fellow’s home last night.  He was an expert employee of the oil company’s before the Japs came.  He has avoided working for the Nips since their arrival & in secret meetings with other chinese always spoke English & talked of the time they would return.  A little girl [Peggy Ho] about 6 or 7 years of age sang “I’ll always call you sweetheart” tunefully & in extremely good English.  I remember well the last time I heard that song in company.  Sofala days!  That little chinese kid couldn’t have been more than 4 when the Japs came!  One more drawing in this particular area & I think I’ll move off.

Lots of love to you & Graham & Mum.  I’m getting quite anxious to hear about him – his latest in wisecracks and his new found dietetic acquisitions.

Love,

Bill

Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing
Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing

 

Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at
Australian engineers rig up a system to put out the oil fires at Seria using a bulldozer rigged up with steam jet

 

[Study for Burning oil wells at Seria II][Study for Burning oil wells at Seria III]Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing

21 x 11 cm 21 x 11 cm Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departingBurning oil wells at Seria Oil wells at Seria set alight by the Japanese before departing

War Letters – Borneo: 22 July 1945, Labuan; Wet & cold, hot & dry, Victoria Town in ruins

W. E. Pidgeon
War Correspondent
c/o Public Relations
1 Aust Corps
Sunday July 24 1945 [22 Jul 1945]

Darling,

It is inconceivably wet and almost cold.  Everyone in the camp is on their spines, out of the wet, & either reading, or gazing gloomingly at the fog of rain that surrounds the tents.  It has been raining, & raining plenty for the last 2 1/2 hours.  It is said that all roads will be closed for the time being as the trucks & God-knows-what vehicles are simply churning them into a sea of mud.  Where, yesterday, I was choked & coated with the talc like dust is today a slippery & sloppy morass attended by the suckings and ploppings of boots stepping & out of the mess & the slithering hiss of tyres.  Damn me if it hasn’t got worse.  Our tent is flooded & the earthen floor lies beneath an inch of swirling water.  I got a spade & Eager is trying to dig himself out a bypass channel.  His stretcher is likely to float off any minute.  A few tents up Dawes & Smythe sit with their feet on their stretchers & peer helplessly at the 3 inches of water & slush beneath them.  Noel Adams in our tent takes it all rather philosophically – he can afford to – his bed is perched on the only dry piece of  ground in the whole bloody camp.

It is too dull, and uncomfortable to write any more at the moment.  The weather stinks and I am as wet as a WC from the hips down.  Borneo for rain!

[23 Jul 1945]

Monday.  Just prior to afternoon tea time.  Today is dry and hot.  The correspondents’ spines are still taking a terrible bashing.  As far as they are concerned this campaign is over and they are merely waiting to be taken home.

That fellow Newman, Ivan gave me the note to, is on the island but I have not been able to get sufficient means of transport to contact him.  I did meet one of the 2nd  Seventh who told me, Newman, was here.  The fellow that I met was Radcliffe and well remembers that dag “Joe” Gaskin.  Also came across Capt. George La Monte – I think you introduced him to me in the early days – he inquired kindly after you and if I recollect alright, the young man.  Lt. Arthur Horner, the tall fair artist johnny we had out to tea one night is attached to military history section just down the road.

Victoria, Labuan Island
Victoria, Labuan Island
Clock Tower at Victoria, Labuan
Clock Tower at Victoria, Labuan

There’s nothing much to tell you about this island Labuan.  It is quite small and is more or less a base area with an air strip.  The Japs have been cleared out and there is no excitement apart from the tracking down of mosquitoes and myriads of other winged beasties.  I imagine that Victoria Town once the hub of social life, was a picturesque spot in pre war days.  Only a couple of brick homes and an old clock tower remain after the invasion bombardment and the demolition by the air force gangs.  The native population consists mostly of Chinese farmers.  Malayans and Indians, all quite small in stature.  The women are slim and on the whole not unattractive whilst occasionally a real beauty will appear for a passing moment.  Their build is slim and graceful, their bones delicate and well turned.  They dress mostly in a buttoned up to the neck tunic and three quarter length pants – their black hair is always well groomed in plaits and other what you – do – it like styles.  Usually the colours are white, pinks, bright blues, and black.  All beautifully laundered.  Sometimes you see them wearing a vivid puce headgear with a bright green upper garment and getting away with it.  The babies are either slung across their backs or carried in exactly the same ways as the cuddler seat manner.

Two bottles of beer and a bottle of gin ration is on today.

Am leaving in the morning for Brunei and down the coast to the oilfields where I should get more stuff than this place offers.  We shall see.  How’s my little fellow?  Has he missed me at all yet?  How are you?  Not unduly put out about my absence I hope.  Does he try to walk yet?  Behaving your ‘self?  How’s Mum? And a lot of other questions.  Lots of love dear and tell Graham I often think of what he may be up to.

Love

Bill

Have had some of my money changed into Straits Settlements money which is the legal currency up here.  Am sending you 1 dollar, about 2/11.

[Signature of censor at bottom of letter]

War Correspondent relaxing in camp at Labuan
War Correspondent Cliff Eager relaxing in camp at Labuan
War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth (left) and Alan Dawes (right)
War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth (left) and Alan Dawes (right)
War Correspondent W.E. Pidgeon (WEP) relaxing in camp at Labuan
War Correspondent W.E. Pidgeon (WEP) relaxing in camp at Labuan
War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth on left, Cliff Eager on right in
War Correspondents Jimmy Smyth on left, Cliff Eager on right in
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Clock Tower of the local Town Hall, Victoria Town, Labuan Island

 

Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
Victoria Town, Labuan Island
The Clock Tower in the distance and the only two buildings that remained in the former pretty town of Victoria Town, Labuan Island
The Clock Tower in the distance and the only two buildings that remained in the former pretty town of Victoria Town, Labuan Island

24 x 18 cm 21 x 11 cm

War Letters – NW Australia: 12 Aug 1943, Coomalie Creek; with the boys of a Beaufighter squadron

W.E. Pidgeon
C/O DPR Unit
A.P.O. Darwin
Thursday
[12 Aug 1943]

Darling,

How’s my little pet today?  Listening to Janie?  Going to the pub?  Reading to the Watsos? Or just thinking of Willie?

Am at another camp where I stayed last night.  Am moving up the road this afternoon where I shall pass the evening with the Sydney fellows from the Auto Club.

Beaufighter, possibly at Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory, 194
Beaufighter, possibly at Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory, 1943

The crowd of pilots fly Beaufighters, a twin engined job used for strafing the nips on islands 300 to 400 miles from here.  They are somewhat older than the Spitfire boys but are all in early twenties.  The Commanding officer is youngish tall, dark & could easily pass for a brother of Good-O.  Something about his face is remarkably like her.  The air force COs are much more friendly than their counterparts in the army.  I suppose this is so because they are much younger.

An Army Liaison officer attached to this unit came up to me last night and asked if I was wep. Said he thought he recognised me.  Asked if I recollected trying to cook sausages with a blow lamp in the main street of Tamworth.  He was at the dance at Tamworth Golf Club.  Fancy coming 2,000 miles to have that brought up!  Wep, my girl, is a name to be contended with! – A young chap of 23 took me in tow last night & fed me with a few whiskies.  At ten o’clock we suppered on toast, asparagus and SARDINES!  Sorry I can’t bring you any down but I am not supposed to buy anything from their mess store.  In case you get the wrong idea that I am wallowing in epicurean luxury I might add that the usual mess meal is only too often blasted tinned bully beef – (tasteless goddamn stuff) & margarine which no one I have so far struck is inclined to eat.  Dry Bread is the standing order now.  It’s 3 weeks since the troops have had any butter.  You can imagine my sufferings.

Possibly near Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory
Possibly near Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory
Possibly near Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory
Possibly near Coomalie Creek, Northern Territory

This is the best camp I have been in.  Situated on the slopes of one of the few hills around this country it is sprinkled amongst delightful open forest.  Beautifully green trees, plenty of palms – and birds galore.  Dawn is a rare pleasure – you wake to the low and penetrating calls of the birds, and the air is as soft & cool as a whisper.

The shower is the coldest I’ve had up here – dispersed my crumbiness in a trice.

Gave the old sand fly bites their necessary scratchings & offed to breakfast of bully beef rissoles and tinned bacon.  For heavens sake get some sucker down there to eat ours.  I’ve completely had it.  Practically every morning since I arrived.  I never want to see it again.  It dished up like limp ham boiled in washing up water.

I’m afraid you and I will have a few guests when I return.  So many of the lads have been very kind to me.  I have asked them all to give us a ring if & when they are in Sydney.

Hope to see you soon sweetheart.  Better get all beautified for you birfday & little Will.  Lots of kisses.  Wish I was at Darwin in case I get a letter.

Bye, bye darling

Bill.

(Note – Jess’s birthday is 5th September)

Beaufighter EH-Y, A19-70, 31 Squadron, RAAF
Beaufighter EH-Y, A19-70, 31 Squadron, RAAF
Beaufighter, warming up
Beaufighter, warming up
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter
Beaufighter