Tuesday 1943.

Dear Mom, Dad, and Family,

Hiya folks. How’s our big happy family? Just fine I hope. I was sure glad to receive your letter today Mom and I am glad that you and little Barbara are doing so well. That sure is fine, and boy I am just dying to see her. Boy Mom she must be some little cutie, the way way you describe her, and I hear you made the grandest housewife Dad while Mom was away. I am glad to hear everything is fine.

I sure haven’t much time to write nowadays. We have finished our ground course and are reviewing our course. So we should be flying soon. Flying is still away behind, but if the weather stays as warm and mild as it is now, we should be up soon. It is just like spring out here. We had a Valentine dance here at the station. It wasn’t bad. Boy I am getting to be some dancer, no kiddin. At least I think so.

Well we have had a lot of work on gun turrets and the theory of hydraulics by which they work. You know those 4 gun tail turrets in the big bombers well we have some here. We fired 2,000 rounds apiece from them yesterday and boy are they terrific. They are positively deadly to an attacking plane. The amount of lead they push out is truly unimaginable. We used tracer bullets and you could see them whip out. When you fire the first 4 rounds the guns sound like striking snakes, almost sickening. We are doing all this practical work now and my hands are cut and black just like when I worked at Pacific Sheet. It is a good feeling to have them like that. People think all we do is use our heads. But you ought to see us and smell us. We go out and do a days firing and filling and bleeding turrets and working bomb sights and cleaning guns and belting ammo. Our faces get black and greasy and our eyes and cheeks are all spattered and burnt with gun powder. Also our clothes and when I get back at night I positively reek of burn’t gun powder, oil and steel, but I love it no fooling. If only there were some Hun crates in fron’t of my sights. I got a real job boy and we Canadians out here are slowly but surely getting that killing feeling towards Huns and Japs. You can’t help it! The acrid smell of burnt powder in your nostrils and eyes and the jump and yammer of guns and the stink of burning oil. I never knew machinery would attract me so.

I got a letter from Johnny today and he sends you all his best. His letters sure sound more cheerful now.

Some of us fellas went into town last Sat. nite and went to a dance at the Wings Hotel “Ballroom”. What a laugh. It’s a converted barn I think with a rough dry floor and the floor is as hilly as a sway back horse. Boy we sure got a kick out of the name, Ballroom ha-ha-ha-ha! We had a good time tho with the aid of a couple of beers. The boys figured I needed a little builder upper and so I did.

I get a 48 on Thursday, so I guess I will go to Moose Jaw. Well I’ll close now and tell you all about it.

Bye now.
Love
Pete.

Hiya Ray old boy
      xxx ooo