Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton

Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton

Peter Lamprey writes physical and other training and that they are now known as cadets. He mentions Women’s Auxiliary Air Force girls and that he will try and get off camp at the weekend. He catches up with friends, mentions that there a number of Americans around and comments on his last sortie which was very bumpy.

Seven page handwritten letter

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ELampreyPGuntonW[Date]-49

[RAF Crest]

1384535. LAC. Lamprey. P.
Hut. X35. A. SQDN.
No. 1. Air Crew Wing.
RAF. Yatesbury.
Wiltshire.

Dear Bill and So on.
Life – for a number of reasons – is grim. In fact, with a little slow music would be a tradgedy. *[sic] They – that August body the RAF – are sewing muscles on my frame with barbed wire. I have never rushed about so much in all my bloody puff. They make us run and jump and walk and what have you. By the time I get me to my pit I am usually fit to do anything but move.

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Not content with our bodies they are trying to improve what goes for minds with us cadets. I don’t know whether I told you we are now known as cadets. This fact however is not commented upon unless one is tired of life, being liable to cause endless friction among the boys. Having just been thrown back into circulation. By a stony-hearted M.O. I am saving all my feeble strength for a bang at a night out on the belt with a few of the other would be arse end Charlies. Plus of course, usual trimmings.

I dropped a line to Charlie over the week-end and gave him enough advice to get him fourteen days Jankers, which

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same - with the greatest joy - I hope he gets. It will get a little of the new shine off. If I only knew the other two goons [sic] address I’d do the same for them – with greater pleasure. By now that should just about learned how to put their hats on with one hand. All I hope is that I run into them before they are really fitted into their boots.
The feminine side of the war is fairly well represented here. Under training during the day and airmen at night. At present the little mob who I eddy around with are moving fairly steady but there are ominous signs of a terrific bend

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coming off shortly as we have been picking the crop over. I am hoping to get the old nut over the wire this week-end and skid away to the hills. Thats [sic] if they don’t find something else for us to do – which by the way is one of their funny little games. The bother these days is that they check up on you four times a day and suddenly decide to send you flying. If you miss any flying hours you have to make them up after the rest of the mob have been posted to Yatesburys [sic] next stop wherever that might be.

I haven’t had a lot of time lately to get at the old ribbing game and

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if Brother George and my old friend Hunty have missed my little remarks I should like them to know that they are not forgotten – I still have bad dreams. One of these days I shall be able to talk like Bro. G. And then they will make me a Group Captain or something equally as hot. I talk a bit now but the really big tales make me blush a bit so I’ll have to ask Bro. G. how he keeps a straight face all the time.
There are quite a number of our American friends flying round this part of the world. Some of them are pretty decent and bar for the fact they talk about the States twenty-six hours a day. Are

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strong silent men. We ran into one the other night who had just been done up by a boy in the R.A.C [sic] and he took a very poor view of the British Army as a fighting unit. But from the look of things the B.A. hadn’t done so bad.

This letter has – as usual of late – been held up for a few hours while I have been poking a few more flying hours in. And what a bloody trip. It looked like a flying hearse when we hit the deck. All the U.T. Air Crew stretched out like a bundle of minders working a twenty-four. Even the pilot said it was just a little bumpy. I hope I never get aloft when its [sic] a little bumpier. If so – you can draw on my insurance right away. I have 84 hours
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In my log book but if it had been eighty five I think they could have closed it for good.

For a while I am afraid this will have to do. I am now going to put my little nut on the Airmans [sic] wife and get some in. Remember me to the OPO’s, Eleots. [sic] Eng. Etc. If the old RIP[sic] is still at his larks treat him firm but even then he will like it. He wants people to treat him all the time. Thanks for all the doings. Best of luck

Pete.
*Personally I dont [sic] care a ---- how many spelling mistakes you find.