p.

3/
do all my lives.
I'm going to bed now, my sweetheart. XXX H X
Saturday Feb 28th And Marie is nine months old today. Dear
little chappie. how I long to see him.
For four days now I have not written a word to you + that
must be just about the longest time since I have been
away from you. I have been very busy - working right up
to dinner time every day + then some more afterwards.
But I'm afraid I have been having a dreadful bit of
depression + misery + I just could not bring myself
to write to you darling. I don't really know why this fit
came- no very particular reason really. But I expect you
understand well enough - they just arrive + there you
are. And though they never really go away at all they
do ease off for varying lengths of time, until the curtain
comes down again. I don't really feel like writing now
but I am hoping to write myself into a more
reasonable frame of mind.
News first- + there is little enough about which to tell
you. I sent you another "useful" parcel the other day.
Another 2 lbs of jam - 100 cigarettes- + 4 pieces of
toilet soap + 2 packets of soap flakes. I heard on the
wireless that soap is now rationed in England; - +
also the photographs from Feb 6th, they are rather
disappointing, I'm afraid- none of them are much good of
use- there are no good ones at all of the parade-
+ the remainder are of the men + their friends. The
latter I can tell you more about when I came
home- but perhaps you will find them interesting
as showing types.