Letter from Harold Gorton to his wife

EGortonHGortonLCM430713.pdf

Title

Letter from Harold Gorton to his wife

Description

Letter from Harold Gorton to his wife including two poems. He writes about job offers his wife may take and writes about activities at RAF Cark.

Creator

Publisher

IBCC Digital Archive

Date

1943-07-13

Contributor

Rights

This content is available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International license (Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0). It has been published ‘as is’ and may contain inaccuracies or culturally inappropriate references that do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the University of Lincoln or the International Bomber Command Centre. For more information, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/ and https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/legal.

Format

Seven handwritten sheets

Language

Identifier

EGortonHGortonLCM430713

Spatial Coverage

Temporal Coverage

Transcription

OFFICERS’ MESS,
ROYAL AIR FORCE,
CARK,
NORTH LANCASHIRE.
TELEPHONE GRANGE 390.
13/7/43
Dearest,
I was delighted to get a letter from you this morning, so as there’s nothing doing today on account of the high wind – I spent the morning in the Mess, - I’ve come to my room to get some letters written. This evening I’m spending with Moody & his wife, so I shall be able to see what sort of a place they’ve got.
Before I forget, here’s the only advertisement in the Telegraph that seems worth considering: A firm wants someone, preferably young, to interview housewives about their needs – some sort of commercial travelling, I suppose. Must be prepared to
[page break]
2
to live in the N. of England, & be free to travel. Write, giving salary required etc., to:
A.W. 7830
Daily Telegraph, EC4
If you think it’s worth trying, bung in for it, you can always put the salary high enough.
I saw the instrument basher this morning, & he thinks he’ll have the watch ready for Friday.
I don’t think you need worry about the Hospital job, but the Y.W. seems very hopeful. I imagine they have a woman going round to give interviews & you’ll have to wait until she reaches the Cardiff district before she’ll be able to see you, so the delay is quite understandable
[page break]
3.
Which district will you ask for if they offer you a job?
As for Hereford, carry on if you find it O.K., but I shouldn’t do any more moving than can be helped i.e., if you go there, decide to settle permanently.
You seem quite satisfied with the bank balance & income tax; personally I’d sooner have the furniture than the money. The income tax is a complete mystery, but McMaster has received a similar quite incomprehensible form, so it’s possible there’s method in their madness!
By the way, I forgot
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4
to mention that I got my pants from the laundry, but my towel has disappeared from the Mess; fortunately it was just about worn out, but I’m taking no risks with my other towels.
I’m glad to hear you’re making good progress with the pullover. Judging by the sort of weather we’re having in July, I’m going to need it a lot sooner than I expected.
I’ve had a letter from Dad in Buxton. To judge by his remarks – only two leather [inserted] easy [/inserted] chairs & a number of padded forms to sit on, he isn’t having much comfort there, but he doesn’t complain.
Mother was delighted with the 10/-. I’ll enclose the
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5
letter so that you can read what it says. I’ll send Dad the other 10/-. He may find it useful.
You may find it dull at Newhouse, but I miss you more than ever. You see, the longer I’m married to you, the more I appreciate you & love you, & the harder it is to be parted. Roll on my next 48!
All my love,
Harold.
P.S. I trust you find the enclosed poem amusing. Perhaps you could send it back in a later letter.
[page break]
[underlined] Nacht Rappen [/underlined]
Swiftly, swiftly, goes the flarepath,
As we enter murky space,
Please, dear pupil, stay on zero,
And ignore my ashen face.
Hold that wing up, watch your airspeed,
Now a gentle turn, rate one.
What the …! How the …! Cripes! we've lost it.
Where’s that flaming flarepath gone?
Now we’re climbing, now we’re diving,
Now the gyro’s spinning free,
Now that old horizon’s [deleted] spinning [/deleted] [inserted] heaving [/inserted],
Soon we’re going to hit a tree.
There at last a friendly beacon,
Quick, before it’s lost to sight,
Flash a signal, get no answer,
Send the letter of the night.
Swiftly, swiftly, comes the flarepath,
Writhing like a tortured snake,
Like a drunken crab we’ve landed,
Wheels retracted, what a break!
[page break]
[underlined] Instructor’s Psalm [/underlined].
My pupil is a headache
I do not want.
He maketh me to lie down at night very weary.
He leadeth [deleted] be [/deleted] [inserted] me [/inserted] beside high tension wires.
Yea, though I walk on the clearest of days
I fear much evil
For he is with me.

Collection

Citation

Harold Gorton, “Letter from Harold Gorton to his wife,” IBCC Digital Archive, accessed March 2, 2021, https://ibccdigitalarchive.lincoln.ac.uk/omeka/collections/document/8947.

Item Relations

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