July 26th, 1942

Dear Mom,

I wrote you a letter last week but somehow or other it never got posted for I found it in my writing case when I opened it this morning. So I will have to send it off to you along with this one if I can get them all in an envelope. As you can see from the address I am writing this from the Lion Club again. I haven't seen anyone so far except the girl on the desk who is called "Goldy", probably because her hair is dark, dark brown, in fact black.

Yesterday I had a lovely day with Mrs. Sayers and Jean Louis who was up in town for the day. He manages every second week. We went to the show, saw "Mrs. Minerva" at the Empire in Leicester Square. It is a marvelous picture, the only true account I have ever seen or read about how the average person carried on over here during the blitz. It was truely magnificent and quite frankly, I cried twice which is very unusual for me as you probably know. If you can I want you to see it and pay particular attention to the scene where the little boats are coming down from the inland waters on their way to Dunkirk. Also the scene where she wakes up early in the morning while her husband is still away at Dunkirk and goes out on the terrace overlooking the river. This scene might just as well be Taplow and will give you an idea of the beauty I have experienced (for it is more than seeing to live and absorb as I have done) while I was in hospital so long.

After the show we went to the PamPam in Leicester Square where we had a lovely lunch, Hamburger Steak and roast potatoes (a la American) and Coca-cola, apple pie. Then we went home and spent the rest of the day talking.

I have not been doing very much this past week because we are waiting to be posted away to our Initial Training Wing. I don't expect it will be very long till we are up to our ears in work and then my writing will probably suffer. I am going to cut all my unessential writing out I think because I cannot possibly keep it up any longer.

The food is still remaining up to standard, my suit fits me fine, I am happy even though I am leaving London for at least three months: maybe for good. However, who can say?

There is really nothing at all to talk about...life just seems to flow along. I haven't had any Canadian mail for weeks but on the other hand, I was not expecting any, so I can't complain. Now I must close. Love to all as always. Mary sends her love,

Yours ever,

Jim