13th February 1946
My Darling Snooky,
Please excuse this writing paper but I’ve hunted high and low and just can’t find any.
I hope I managed to convey to yo that my leave is on so I’ll be along on the last train on Saturday 23rd. In this connection, don’t forget the tyre for my bicycle because if yo can’t get one you end-inner tube as well, let me know and I’ll try here.
Evie has just been on the phone and I’m going up there on Sunday and the Sunday after that, oh boy, oh boy I’ll be in your arms again. No, we must not stay in bed all day for I’m in desperate need of some real fresh air, my lungs are getting all clogged up.
Say, don’t forget to stop my Auto car magazine on Tuesday 23rd February as I shall need it at home not up here and in that connection last week’s arrived in perfect condition, in heavy armour-plating of brown paper—please thank them.
I am enclosing letters from Maurice, my Dad and Auntie Edie. The former should be home any day now and so might quite possibly come down to Minehead with me, is that ok sweetheart?
I got a ten pound box of digestive biscuits today from our canteen. Your mother is anxious for one half. They are in a proper tin box as you see in grocers’ shops, they should keep for months if you want them and may come in useful for our summer entertaining.
I was cheerfully sitting on the lavatory today minding my own business when I heard shouts of help. I was unable to do anything, of course but fortunately the cries were heard by others who pulled an old boy out of the bathing pond behind the Instrument Shop—he had nearly drowned.
All for now sweetheart, except to send you my love until I can give it to you.
Take great care of yourself.
Your very own,