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Air Letter addressed -: S/152035
Cpl. McNicol A.
R.A.S.C.
M.I. Photo Section
G.H.Q.
M.E.F.

Postmarked 4.15pm 14.2.1944 Ilkeston
Hounslow
Received 4.3.1944 Cost 6d.

(1)
13 Glebe Crescent
Ilkeston
Derbyshire
Sunday 13th Feb.

Dear Baas,

Have received two Airgraphs from you, dated if I remember aright 30.11.1943 and 5.1.1944, one to mother and one to Kathleen. We were looking for the special Xmas aircrafts, and their non-arrival rather gave rise to speculation — so many seemed to be on leave from the Middle East — still this, for many, maybe just a matter of ‘out of the frying pan’ — ‘what’s new? Well nothing really — just a continuance of the old — we still have lightish raids — still the guns fire — still the small weekly quota of casualties which now seem so much part of our lives that one merely shrugs with a ‘there but for the grace of God, go I’ — and everyone waits for that fearful dawn when the first craft set out for France or where would you.

We, we have had no snow yet, icy weather, sleet, wind but no white Xmas. From the above address, by the way, you will see I have moved again. We are now working on ‘surface’ coal, which means that the earth, down to forty feet, is taken off the surface until the coal face or seam is bared, and this is then loaded into our lorries, and taken to the stacking grounds. Seven days a week, though an occasional Sunday can be ‘wangled’. I managed to get homes for Xmas, and have since been to Jessies’. I arrived there in the ‘blackout’ at central station; the rain was driving horizontally, and the street seemed paved with black glass. Jessie and Fred were out, and eventually I contacted Rowly. At a neighbours house; there he was playing table tennis with Alan; said neighbours son. This was the first time for three and a half years that I had been, and nothing, seems to have changed. We sat up that night until 4.20am, talking of days that are gone; and on Sunday Fred and I had a session at the ‘Sylvan’, this, in case you have forgotten is the ‘local’. We are going to have a ‘get together; party, when you and Ken get home. Where is undecided the main thing is getting together. Mulling over things, Kate and I recollected that out of six years married life, we have lived together just over three. Longer than a good many, by a piece, I admit, but still! Malcolm celebrated his forth on the 28th of last, but unfortunately I couldn’t make it. I managed it last Sunday Kate and Malcolm came to see me off at St. Pancras on the 5.10pm. I can still see Malcolm vaguely staring through half blacked out windows of the coach trying to catch a glimpse of me in the sardine crush — which made me want to swear for a reason only the pit of my stomach seemed to know.

(2)

Well, and what now Baas? Have you heard that Mr. Elms is dead? Did mother write? She heard it from Adams, the grocer, you remember, on the bridge. Of Joan we hear nothing. I hesitated before mentioning this as you so often lament the lack of female society, that you may perhaps allow the Joan memories to become a minor obsession and distort your view of the species generally. Looking at the matter rationally, it is perhaps the best thing to happen. How much worse if you had been married, would be this everlasting separation. The finality of the present situation should put your mind at rest -- uncertainty is the worst canker. A mans best years are between and 25 and 35, these you will spend in England — look at me — I shall be 36 tomorrow!

And as the Greek lady (was it a Greek lady?) was unable to answer convincingly your oldish question as to why ‘God’ allowed this bloody war? From the Christians point of view it is fairly simple. Firstly, the Christian assumes there is a ‘God’ on the firstly safe and utterly reasonable ground that man, and the universe, was not an accident, but was created, which presumes a Creator, or whatever nomenclature you care to use. Above all things, man wanted freedom. Freedom to shape his own destiny; to live his own life in the light of the reasoning powers granted him above all other animals. This ‘God’ granted man free will. In effect then ‘God’ said OK, get on with it. The ups and downs we have made of it can be read in the worlds’ history. Are we to go running to ‘God’ like a child to its mother, every time he makes a mess of things? Or allow other people to make a mess of things for us? No, if you were ‘God’ you would take the long view, where a few hundred generations didn’t ultimately matter and retort ‘that whether you fought between yourselves or not was a matter for you to decide, and why should I now interfere?’ In other words man made the war, and man can stop it. ‘You have the free will to decide whether you will fight or not; history which is the recorded experience of your father, tells you that war is of no benefit to mankind generally; why then wage it?’ ‘Why bother me with your troubles when the solution is so perfectly obvious.’ ‘Are you quite sure your Greed, your Selfishness and your Apathy, your lust for Wealth and Power have nothing to do with it.’ ‘And what about the poor innocent children you might say, well again, obviously the children can’t be segregated into a separate world; the generations are inextricably mixed up; hence ‘God’ warns us that the ‘sins of the fathers will be visited upon the children’. Remember there is a book called the Bible in which is contained all that is necessary on the art of living, for those that don’t like reading this book is summarised in Ten Commandments; if man chooses to ignore it, he shouldn’t squeal at the consequences.

Cheerio Baas, and God Bless.

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