18 August 1937

Dear Mother:

Yes, I have been away from home for over a year now, and I have done much since then.

All this week we have had splendid flying weather and Boy! do we get up early here!

I was talking today with Flying Officer Grace, who is our Adjutant. He was in the R.C.A.F. at Vancouver. That show about the R.A.F. is just being made, so don't expect it for some time. As Clark Gable will most likely be the star, you'll probably hear about it.

I am jolly glad to hear that the crops aren't too bad. Good old Aberhart is still getting headlines over here. Bob did well in History, but I'm surprised that he failed Trig. It's one of the easiest subjects I ever had.

For three weeks now we have done nothing but fire on targets towed by Gordons and Wallaces and dive on ground targets. The ammunition we go through is certainly stupendous. We have had no accidents since the first three days of Camp, so everything is going smoothly.

Swimming in the briny has no equals. Oh! He floats through the "Wash" with the greatest of ease. Unfortunately or fortunately we have little time for such recreation. We fly from dawn to dusk.

It's certainly nice to wake early, get into flying kit, run up your Fury, wave chocks away and ease off the deck. The sun has just come up and a slight mist still hugs the sea. The air is as smooth as silk and you gulp in huge mouthfuls. You join up with drogue machine and get signal to start "cracking," so back goes the stick. Open the throttle and up you go. You approach head on yourself at one thousand feet above. His plane comes under your wing. You drop your wing and come around onto target by a stall turn and dive vertically at the target. Line it up in sights, being careful to allow deflection. Get as close as possible, without hitting the target. (Important factor). The press trips and out snaps a ten shot burst from both guns. Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta

Up the target booms, and you duck underneath and zoom up for another attack. (This is called the Astern Attack). Incidentally, the speed obtained after such an attack is not slow. Could you send Saturday's Herald to me each week? I'd certainly appreciate it. A chap dropped in today from a Fighter Squadron, complete with Radio Telephony strapped on his mouth and oxygen apparatus. He looked more like the spook Dracula than a human being. Imagine, even if you are at 35,000 feet, half frozen and breathing condensed air from your own oxygen tanks - you still have to listen to headquarters and talk back to them. Real telephone. Mouth piece fits in leather socket which fits over the mouth. "Can you heah me Mawton!" "Yes Sir! But I wish to H' I couldn't ."

My radio gets some very good programs from Europe, and the dance music is second to none. Well, Thompson and I have to be out at ranges tomorrow at 0600 a.m. because we are range officers tomorrow (unfortunately).

Love Bill
Does Ronny remember me? I hope he can pronounce my name now.