23 January 1937

Dear Mother:

Do I get around - I developed a lovely sweat rash on my legs and back at last Wednesday's rugger game - result I am here for a week or so till it cures. It seems it is infectious, so here I am for the present at least.

I have successfully soloed on two service type machines - the Hawker Hart two seater day bomber and the Hawker Audax Army Cooperation plane. These machines are both powered with Rolls Royce. There are no dual controls in a Hawker Audax; we just fly it away.

The last day I was up it was beautiful - I was lazily doing climbing turns and watching over my back the scarf ring machine gun attachment and tail unit of plane turning - the glistening red, white and blue circles of the R.A.F. shining splendidly in the sun. These machines are marvellous - all nickel-plated. The school has only had them eighteen months. Besides these we soon fly Auro Tutor and Fury. In three weeks' time we are to do night flying. We will do that in Auro Tutors. They are less expensive. All day the senior course were taking off and landing in formation and a very tight one at that. They would fall out of echelon and dive on the hangar and then zowie away in every direction. There is some talk of us all flying Auro Anson's twin-engined bombers in our senior course. I hope so. I prefer to do my flying behind glass. Much more comfortable.

Cranwell is ten miles from my station. Out of my window I see the Harts of the Training Command here whistle through the air as they come in to land.

Wouldn't I love to fly in Canada where the atmosphere is clear. I spent 2 1/2 hours in the air the other afternoon. At no time could I go up over 900 feet. I visited many towns, castles, etc. - followed railroads everywhere so I wouldn't get lost. As I roared over towns I could see the townspeople look up at the daring Canadian in an RAF machine who would fly in weather like that. My Sgt. Pilot instructor is a tough guy and just eats up rough weather. When I think of the Calgary Aero Club flying when the wind died down I laugh loud and long - maybe on the wrong side of my face someday. Of course our machines are much heavier made easier to handle on the ground - I forgot that of course - excuse me.

The nineteenth course at No. 3 F.T.S. Pilots - meaning us - had our pictures "took" en masse last week, so soon I shall send you a picture of the class to hang over your piano - or maybe you won't know your son Willy - thanks to the Sergeant Major.

These English fellows are a wonderful lot. Favourite expression, "I say, are you going out tonight? I say, do you know?" etc.

Talking shop is strictly taboo in mess - probably started in the War. We never talk about flying, but I still think the Englishmen lets off steam through his letters like I do. The two Canadian chaps from B.C. on the senior courses were picked out to fly Furies. I hope I'm not (at present time that is the way I feel). Dear learned Englishman thinks "Canadians" - tough guys huh! Fighter Squadrons emphatically - yes definitely! I want experience on multi engines so I can take my place in commercial aviation when I come out.

A Canadian or American accent is very harsh compared with the melodious Englishmen - they like the tough guy sound of Canadian words - much more so than we do Englishmen. Saturday night a glass (glawse) of beer and the school drinks "Up Canada" to yours truly Calgary, Touchbourne of Winnipeg, Good of Montreal and another chap from Nova Scotia.

You should see our chaps night fly - a string of seven up circling around -signalling with lights asking permission to land. I ask you, should I be in Canada - nix.

We have to do cross country night flying also, so it should be fun, especially with a Rolls Royce to rely on.

It's tough to be sitting here while the school piles up from ten to fifteen hours' flying per week, but I shall soon be back. Keep sending mail to No. 3 Flying Training School, Royal Air Force, Grantham Lincs. (Officers Mess).

Love to all.
Bill
P.S. I immodestly tried to pull a fast one by putting in my rank.