No. 7925934. Sgt. Greenwood, R.T.
9th Battn. R.T.R.


Tuesday morning.

Jessie Mine, I forgot to mention one little point in my last letter: it concerns Bill Geary. He sent me a letter recently asking particularly whether I could take care of some personal papers left behind in his kit. I have managed to collect these papers etc… and as they are fairly bulky for my restricted space, I have parcelled them up… and sent them home. I could not send them direct to him because I don’t now know where he is… he has left Preston. The parcel is labelled “for W. Geary”, so there will be no need for you to open it… assuming you haven’t already done so. I am hoping that Bill and his young lady will be calling on you soon, and you can then get rid of it. When you see him, will you please tell him that his parcel also includes a small satchel of private papers belonging to Johnny (“Tiger”) Boland. The latter was wounded at the same time as Bill, and I haven’t heard of him since. If Bill cares to do so, he can leave Boland’s papers at our house… or he can take them with him. Neither Bill nor I know Boland’s address, but we both know he can be found at the “Coach and Horses” at Shaw, Nr. Oldham… if/when he is at home. You might also tell Bill that all remaining army kit of men who have been evacuated to England has now been dispersed by the squadron quartermaster: So both Bill Geary and Johnny Boland now have no kit officially remaining with the squadron.

I fear there is little personal news for you today, darling. We have been working all day on vehicles… in a leisurely sort of way. Unfortunately, these full working days leave little time for writing now that the evenings are so much shorter. We are severely handicapped by having no artificial light here… not even candles. But there may be an improvement tomorrow. The major is not satisfied with the present billets… especially the men’s quarters… so we’re moving again tomorrow to a better place about 2 miles distant. Whether there will be electric lighting in the new billet remains to be seen: I am certainly hoping so.

There was a letter for me this morning… the one you wrote on Tues – 12.9.44. You tell me about that queer ‘fainting’ attack… and I don’t like the sound of it… especially as you are living alone. It may not be anything to worry about, but I wish I could be sure of this. Have you thought of seeing the doctor? He may be able to reassure us. After all, it may be the introductory pains to the restoration of your menses… and nothing at all to worry about… but I would like to know definitely. Please see Shanahan Jess:- if only for my sake… and Barry’s as well.

I think you must be right about Bill Geary:- the bounder! He is a most annoying cuss at times, and I was always rowing with him, but he is an intelligent bloke… and my age… We were able to converse… when there was peace between us!.. and I enjoyed quite a few pleasant hours converation with him. I am now left with a crew of comparative youngsters… the oldest about 21 years… so there is no conversation for me. He wasn’t such a damned fool over here about drink, either. He couldn’t get it in those days, anyhow. Had he been still with us, I suppose he would have ceased to be T.T. because we are now in a part of the country where there seems to be plenty of drink… principally wines and spirits… but it is highly intoxicating stuff and may have appealed to Bill. I have heard that he is now in a Blackpool convalescent home, but have no definite news.

Thank you dear for your further news of Barry. I almost shudder when I think of you having to crawl upstairs when you were feeling ill: you would give your life for him, wouldn’t you Jess. You make me anxious to see him: I cannot now visualise his little face… he must have altered a great deal… but I accept your verdict. You say he looked very beautiful when you gazed upon him the other day… and that is grand news to me. I certainly hope I will be able to see him when he is 7 or 8 months old… but… well, Heaven only knows. The future course of this war is unpredictable at the moment, altho’ the final result is now absolutely beyond question.

Anyhow, for the moment, I am more or less an observer of what is going on. I can’t say I dislike this role! Oh, in case Mrs. Wright ever mentions Noel, I haven’t seen him for several weeks. Last time I heard of him, he was working in the rear with the echelon. But that was some weeks ago, and anything may have happened since. Unfortunately, the squadrons have been harbouring some distance apart in recent weeks, and I haven’t been in touch with anyone in ‘A’ for some time.

Did you hear the radio announcement that the final count of prisoners at Le Havre was 11,309? Not a bad bag! Will tell you more about it some day-!!

It is now almost dark… and my eyes are popping out like organ stops. Must leave you darling… until tomorrow.

Good night, dear Jess.

Always – I love you

Your Trevy.

P.S. This green envelope has sealed itself. Will have to seal it with gummed paper.