[Editor’s note: The letter's date was written by Stubbs as “Oct” but the postmark and letter number suggest is was most likely from November. Transcription provided by collection donor.]

#39

Oct 8. 1944.

Dear Mother:

Sorry for not writing sooner but there is nothing interesting to write about. I have reached a low and wait only for the day I can get away from here—a day that does not come appreciably nearer. In fact it won’t surprise me much to spend most of my leave here trying to finish. Tomorrow is supposed to be the day off but I will probably have to work as usual which is very annoying as I haven’t been to town for some time and there are a lot of items I must get. One of these is Christmas cards and I saw in the paper that the last day for mailing is sometime next week.

Parcel 19 arrived during the week. The jam is particularly welcome. There are two fireplaces in the dining hall so I can make lots of toast and have a wizard afternoon tea. I wish we had similar fires in the room. Sometimes I wear the inner part of my flying suit in the evenings and still can’t keep warm.

One night the wind blew a huge tree down outside Art Bellis’ hut. Had it fallen the opposite direction to which it did it would have flattened his hut. He was too sleepy in the morning to notice it but got quite a shock that evening. It seems that not even in bed can one be sure of safety around here.

Glad to hear you did at last manage to get enough boxes for all the apple crop. I suppose most people must have underestimated their crops.

With love from
Tony.