Letter re: bomber flight and tea with Collins (October 1931)

Sunday, 4th Oct.


My dearest Mother,

I don’t think there have been any soul-stirring events to report sing I wrote you last. Life has more or less pursued the even tenor of its way, no earthquakes, typhoons, spittoons, heatwaves – though there seems to be something of a cold wave going about:  all around are people sneezing and nose blowing – young folk trumpeting like elephants, old ones stifling their beastly snuffles in their whiskers. Meanwhile, I have as usual been busy:  on Thursday duty took me at 9.30 pm from the darkness of the earth through 2000 feet of cloud to a region of bright moonlight where we could have read newspapers. The moonlight on a boundless sea of cloud below was a grand sight.

To-day we are going to tea with the Collins’. It is a lovely day.

We all send our love to you and hope you are well.

Your own loving son

Harold

P.S. Can a man marry his widow’s sister?  Ask Alan


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