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Date: May 3rd 1942

Craig-Y-Don North Wales

May 3rd 1942

Hi! Mom:-

How’s the whole thing going, I haven’t had a letter from anyone yet except of course the two that Mary sent while I was still on the way and the one Ada send the same way. I would sure like to know if my mail is getting through O.K. I’ll be in London for two or three hours to-morrow and may send you a cable, I’ll be on my way to Q on the chart and will be there for two weeks, I expect some of my letters must have gotten through because I sent countless numbers of them and also two cables one to June and one to you. I expect you can understand my concern when I don’t even know weather you are all well or may be dead and buried. Of course if anything serious were wrong I would probably have received a cable so I’m not too greatly worried.

To-day is Sunday and is as hot as the devil Clay Arthurs and I are sitting on a blanket on the side of the “Little Orme” Clay is sewing and I’m writing I have my tunic of and my shoes too, it ain’t all bad. We can look down into the valley and see Craig-Y-Don and Llandudno with their red tile roofs, beautiful green fields and hidden the “great Orme” is directly across from us – it’s a huge mountain of solid grey rock and on the very top is a Radio Location town with its ariel working perpetuolly, on both sides of us the Irish Sea sparkles like a mirror, behind us the sheep are making a helluva racket up in the rocks. if I didn’t know they were so surefooted I’d be scared of having them fall on our heads. The seagulls and airoplnes seem to be competing to see who can make the most noise, the planes never stop day or night, I don’t know where they go but I guess they probably see plenty of Jerry’s.

I was around saying good bye to all my friends last night, sure a swell bunch, I was wined and dined like a king and in fact never got home till after twelve. I drank a glass of wine last night that nearly put me on my back, a Canadian who has been over here since the last war brews it himself, of course it wouldn’t hurt me according to them, but it wasn’t long before I had a girl on each knee and was reading them fairy stories from a Mother Goose book. Amid squeals of glee.

I’ll be sorry to leave here but what can I do, the C.O says we go and that’s all there is to it also as this paper is very scarce I better hang up so I’ll say so long for now -- Bill

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