C Sqdn, 9th Battn R.T.R.
B.A.O.R. (British Army of the Rhine)


My Darling: From your last two or three letters, I can tell that you have been expecting me home daily for some time past… And I feel that you will have been bitterly disappointed to learn that my leave has been delayed. No doubt you will now be reconciled to a further wait… but I wish I could have spared you the disappointment… Somehow, Jess, it seems inevitable that my leaves are always attended by snags and doubts – causing you God knows how much anxiety and disappointment. We are victims of this damned army machine, and have to accept its soul-less inefficiency – but it won’t be for long now… not long now, dear: I think it is fairly certain that I will have my “ticket” by Xmas… this is one of those stupendous facts that I can’t really grasp as yet… just as I couldn’t really believe Germany was conquered for quite a long time. But I don’t think it will take me long to re-accustom myself to civilian life… or to being called ‘daddy’. And I know it won’t take me any time at all to learn how to be the husband of the loveliest wife of all: that is something I have never forgotten.

There is little more I can add about my leave. I heard another sailing cancellation over the radio yesterday and assumed that my departure would be delayed a further day. But now I find that I am scheduled to travel via the Hook of Holland – Harwich route… and the cancellations only seem to affect the Dover – Calais route, so I still expect to leave on Sept. 1st, arriving England Sept. 2nd. If I am lucky I may be in Harwich in the morning – thus enabling me to reach home at a reasonable hour. But it is difficult to make any forecasts: I can only promise to wire you as soon as I reach England – giving you an idea of my expected time of arrival at Stockport.

And now dear… I will go to bed. Please forgive this lousy little letter: it is so hard to write to you just now: I want to talk to you… and I know I will be talking to you soon… very soon now.

Good night, Jess, my love
Your Trevy.

P.S. Our address is now B.A.O.R. as you may have heard over the radio. T.

P.P.S. The enclosed lousy photo shews the house we are using for our sergeants mess. T. (Click here to see this photo.)