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Air letter addressed — S/152035
Cpl. McNicol A.
R.A.S.C.
M.I. 14 Photo Section
G.H.Q.
M.E.F.

Postmarked 9.45am 12.11.1943 Kettering
Received 19.5.1943 Cost 6d.

31, Lingwood
7.11.43

Baas,

Your letter 19.10.10 received as acknowledged in Airgraphs just posted. Nearly like those just posted, quite a few Airgraphs I have written you have lain in my pocket until too creased and dog-eared to be photographed. How come? Well, in your letter you ask inter alia what kind of work I’m doing, and by dealing with the first, I can offer some explanation, and, I hope, common some excuse. You see, to a very limited extent, I have experienced what it means to receive, and not to receive, a letter from home, when abroad. Well, I am, and have been for the past three years, driving a lorry—hauling building materials—sand, ballast, stone, bricks etc, etc, to Aerodrome sites. Briefly this entails driving on average, just over 180 miles daily. Starting at 7.00/7.30, one is lucky to finish between 18.00/19.00. Allowing oneself two 10/20 minutes breaks during the day for a cup of tea as opportunity offers. Such sandwiches as one has are usually eaten in the cab whilst driving along. One starts at a pit, collects a load, and delivers it as of directed. Though often able to get a regular run, it frequently happens that one has no idea where the place of delivery is until the ticket is obtained. It may be round the corner, or up to seventy miles away across the country. I have just had a fortnight of the cross country trip, involving a village to village grind complicated by thick fog which we have experienced daily for the past ten days. Our lorries are not what they were, if you know what I mean, under ‘make and mend’, and with short supply, they have been patched and repatched to such an extent, that only the regular driver can be expected to perform usually on them. The red petrol burns the valves rapidly and the utility tyres (50% synthetic rubber) are not nearly so good as the old ones, and are a continual source of trouble. One can expect to have to effect some minor repair on at least three nights a week — this after a day is finished, and one has petrolled and oiled up, these repairs have to be done in the open by torch light — black out at the time being 5.40pm. Generally then, by the time one has washed and cleaned up; dinner is had (at around 7.30pm) and the days tickets are sorted out, one has just time — and energy — to slink oneself into a chair to hear the 9pm news on the wireless. And so to bed. Unless, in my case, I have to fill in some form or other for mother, sort out some orders (orders have dwindled to nil nowadays though). I have not been out on a week night since Kate returned to 31, the highlight of the week being in my being able, after a good deal of scheming to catch the 2:30pm train home on Saturday — to return at 9.15pm on Sunday night. Thus the weeks go by. I cannot finish this without pointing out that lorry driving like everything else has its moments. Though subject to minimum pay, one is paid only according to what is done, in other words peace work, and one is therefore running to stand still. One cannot help observing the changing tints of the countryside, or, driving East, say to Peterborough, fail to notice the rising sun on the first run. And, driving mechanically as we do, we have a good deal of time for cogitation, Pay? Min. £4.2.0. Average nett. £5.15.0.

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