Mummy Darling,You recent precious letter of 5.7.42(1 of how series) has arrived this evening - even more infinitely precious than you can imagine. Look at the date and you will see why. Yes - once of we are doing our pre-ordained job - and though it is early to voice too many opportunistic hopes I think we are getting along pretty well. It is always wonderful hearing from you, but at times like this when one is of necessity living under rather a strain, your letters are a great comfort and inspiration. It seems to bring home the fact that we aren't dumped out here in a rather un-attractive desert and told to get on with the fighting, but that we are preventing the further spoilations of our own homes. I hate to think of you worrying about me, really it is not necessary - you probably imagine all sorts of things happening that exist more in the minds of verbose war correspondents than in actual fact. We know by now that physically we can stand anything, and mental endurance being purely an individual spiritual affair. I think I can safely say that I am not in any way worried. I feel very safe and sure and certain, and the end should come in this way, I think its for preferable like this because I do (furiously) believe in the things (are worth) fighting. This is only saying that I have ( )said before, but it is to ( ) now on this third anniversary of our entry into the war as it was on that bright autumn Sunday morning when we first heard the news. Despite what has been happening these last few days have been very happy ones for me as once again Fred and I are temporarily together and once more the mob has been confounded by our own private humour and seemingly vile accusations and public washing of dirty clothing in the best back alley style. Tonight we discovered a bottle of beer - surely the last and consumed it ... .. .