Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton
Title
Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton
Description
Peter Lamprey writes about life on Tiree including the terrible weather and having to stay on to train new operators.
Creator
Coverage
Language
Format
Five page handwritten letter
Publisher
Rights
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Identifier
ELampreyPGuntonWXX0206
Transcription
[RAF Crest]
[underlined] Tiree [/underlined]
Friday [underlined] 6th Feb. [/underlined]
Dear Unk – [underlined] others. [/underlined]
Don’t for one moment imagine I shall ever address you as my friends. From now on relations are distant and to say the least – strained. You may glory in my my[sic] miseries but the day of reckoning will come and I hope to drop a shower of urea upon the whole flaming lot of you.
The biggest event of the present war is undoubtedly Mr. G.W.R. Harbours great contribution to the literary history of the times. I didn’t know the perisher could read, much less write. However,
[page break]
being broadminded, I thank him. Not that his remarks are in any way correct. He has evidently been misinformed when he says I don’t like this this[sic] place. I love it. I wouldn’t leave here if I had to crawl all the way to Scotland. I hope they don’t mention England as I’d try that.
The relief plane is supposed to arrive over the week-end – again. If it doesn’t come then I propose to start an airline of my own. The place is getting better day by day. There is more of it under water. With a few more days rain the bloody place will sink – I hope. You ask if we have had any snow – listen – I’ve got enough bleeding trouble wading through twelve inches mud and slosh without
[page break]
[RAF Crest]
5.
worrying about snow. If it doesn’t snow here its[sic] because nothing could be settled on this corner of heaven.
They have dug more trenches on this island than they had in France during the last fracas. Eventually they will have power lines etc [sic] in them. At present they have me in them every time I step outside. Not that I would have any objection to breaking my neck – it would be a relief. Mr. Harbour, in his masterpiece, says he lived in sand and, in his crude way, shit, for three years but it wasn’t all in one heap, like this is.
I thank Mr Hunt for his very true representation of myself and this earthly paradise. I have had the elbow on more than one occasion but it is the first time I’ve had it twice in one arm. [page break]
However, when I realise the efforts that his tutors must have made to bash a bit of learning into his skull I realise that it is good enough for his limited intelligence. Once again, I thank him.
Otherwise – life runs its weary way – no change can be reported from this zone of war. Not that I should like to disturb the even tenor of your lives with lurid tales of my suffering in the sacred name of freedom but if I don’t get a bit more sympathy than I’ve had of late I’ll make your blood run cold with the awful truth.
Enclosed you will find two letters – one that Mr. Evans might care to read and one addressed to Bill. And I’m [deleted] one letter [/deleted] warning you. If you start any nonsense I’ll [deleted] y [/deleted] use your belly for a bath mat.
[page break]
Since starting this epistle, word has come from H.Q. that two of us have to stay for a few weeks more to train the new operators. I am practising the daftest expression I can so they won’t pick me. But if they do – the sufferings I experience will be nothing to the sufferings you will hear in all my future letters.
Now I must go and keep my eye on the sky. Be careful. Kiss Rusty.
Love to all
Pete.
P.S. This will teach you not to expect a P.S. every time.
[underlined] Tiree [/underlined]
Friday [underlined] 6th Feb. [/underlined]
Dear Unk – [underlined] others. [/underlined]
Don’t for one moment imagine I shall ever address you as my friends. From now on relations are distant and to say the least – strained. You may glory in my my[sic] miseries but the day of reckoning will come and I hope to drop a shower of urea upon the whole flaming lot of you.
The biggest event of the present war is undoubtedly Mr. G.W.R. Harbours great contribution to the literary history of the times. I didn’t know the perisher could read, much less write. However,
[page break]
being broadminded, I thank him. Not that his remarks are in any way correct. He has evidently been misinformed when he says I don’t like this this[sic] place. I love it. I wouldn’t leave here if I had to crawl all the way to Scotland. I hope they don’t mention England as I’d try that.
The relief plane is supposed to arrive over the week-end – again. If it doesn’t come then I propose to start an airline of my own. The place is getting better day by day. There is more of it under water. With a few more days rain the bloody place will sink – I hope. You ask if we have had any snow – listen – I’ve got enough bleeding trouble wading through twelve inches mud and slosh without
[page break]
[RAF Crest]
5.
worrying about snow. If it doesn’t snow here its[sic] because nothing could be settled on this corner of heaven.
They have dug more trenches on this island than they had in France during the last fracas. Eventually they will have power lines etc [sic] in them. At present they have me in them every time I step outside. Not that I would have any objection to breaking my neck – it would be a relief. Mr. Harbour, in his masterpiece, says he lived in sand and, in his crude way, shit, for three years but it wasn’t all in one heap, like this is.
I thank Mr Hunt for his very true representation of myself and this earthly paradise. I have had the elbow on more than one occasion but it is the first time I’ve had it twice in one arm. [page break]
However, when I realise the efforts that his tutors must have made to bash a bit of learning into his skull I realise that it is good enough for his limited intelligence. Once again, I thank him.
Otherwise – life runs its weary way – no change can be reported from this zone of war. Not that I should like to disturb the even tenor of your lives with lurid tales of my suffering in the sacred name of freedom but if I don’t get a bit more sympathy than I’ve had of late I’ll make your blood run cold with the awful truth.
Enclosed you will find two letters – one that Mr. Evans might care to read and one addressed to Bill. And I’m [deleted] one letter [/deleted] warning you. If you start any nonsense I’ll [deleted] y [/deleted] use your belly for a bath mat.
[page break]
Since starting this epistle, word has come from H.Q. that two of us have to stay for a few weeks more to train the new operators. I am practising the daftest expression I can so they won’t pick me. But if they do – the sufferings I experience will be nothing to the sufferings you will hear in all my future letters.
Now I must go and keep my eye on the sky. Be careful. Kiss Rusty.
Love to all
Pete.
P.S. This will teach you not to expect a P.S. every time.
Collection
Citation
Peter Lamprey, “Letter from Peter Lamprey to W Gunton,” IBCC Digital Archive, accessed April 25, 2024, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/document/6634.
Item Relations
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