No. 7925934. Sgt. Greenwood, R.T.
9th Battn. R.T.R.
Jessie Mine: I have another letter today… the one you wrote on Feb. 1st… It is only a short letter, but it tells me plenty… and it tells me particularly that you are worrying because of the possibility of my coming home to a house with burst pipes, and dangling ceiling papers and other signs of disorganisation. Now this will never do. What is the use of my coming home if I am going to find my sweetheart on the verge of a nervous breakdown? I know you are being plagued beyond endurance by an accumulation of worries… and I know that such worries have been unavoidable. But – Jess – you can avoid worrying about my reactions to things like burst pipes. These things are beyond your control darling: and what do they matter by comparison with our reunion? If you are alright, and Barry is alright, and I am alright… why worry about the house? Please don’t think that I am not truly thankful for your consideration… and your marvellous management of our home: I have good cause to be thankful… in view of present conditions in this house… but we are living in abnormal times, and I do want you to try to forget all about my comfort and welfare when I am home. Your apparent anxiety almost gives me the impression that you expect me to pay more attention to the condition of our home, than to my family… Jess and Barry. Does this sound as though I am ungrateful for all the hard work… for your untiring efforts to keep our little home together? I hope not, dear one. I only want to ask you not to upset yourself needlessly: please don’t do it, Jess.
Once again, I will not be able to say much to you: for one thing, there are now seven sergeants living in this little house… all crammed into the living room at the moment: also, the husband and wife are with us… plus an eighteen month old baby… and neighbours seem to be popping in and out ceaselessly… and the wireless is again blaring forth on a variety programme. I feel as though I am in a mad-house. But I am not ungrateful: we are damned lucky to be living beneath a roof… with a warm fire and electric light. We are in fact ‘in clover’… in view of conditions prevailing quite close to our location.
No… I am very lucky, Jess… even though I cannot talk to my love as I would like to. But it will not be long now before I will be able to talk to you… talk-talk-talk from morning till night. We will have to have a programme of some sort, with talking sessions arranged for both of us, otherwise I will monopolise all the time talking… or should I have said ‘listening’-???
Ah Jess… you cannot know how I am longing to hear your voice… It will be so lovely to just listen:- such sweet music…
Good night, my love