25 June 1938

Dear Mother:

Having a glorious time here in Ireland - We all have bicycles and spend a lot of time going along beautiful lanes and through really old Irish towns. The beer in the pubs is good and the accents here near Belfast really terrific.

213 Fighter Squadron is here with us with P/O Tony Robinson, my old friend, so a good time is being had by all.

I don't think the Irish like the English very much - great signs of distrust etc.

Belfast has more open fights than any other place in Ireland and the sentries here at Aldergrove carry rifles fully loaded and I don't mean maybe. There is also the army helping here.

The country is policed by the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the British Army which certainly looks odd in peace time.

It rains a great deal here but is very warm. As I said before, it is very pretty country, but the people are very poor - no great thriving industries except possibly linen but even the workers here are shockingly paid - the country is really made up of poor farmers. It's like a page out of the Boys Own Annualto cycle along these country lanes.

It's surprising how these simple things give the greatest of pleasure and will really leave something to remember in years to come.

Last night I cycled to Antrim with a Navy Commander's son, D. R. Gormblen and spent the evening lifting ale and watching a village dance -Irish jigs and everything included plus fiddler, piano - marvellous.

Incidentally it rained half way back and I got my flannels soaked. Nearly had black looks from my batman this morning.

As this is the first time in Ireland for nearly all the boys, they are looking it over pretty carefully.

They danced to "When Irish Eyes are Smiling" last night so they must have heard the song somewhere, ha! ha!

The rain doesn't seem to mar the complexions of our dear Irish colleens.

Half a dozen of the boys flew over to Glasgow for the Glasgow exhibition over this weekend. My coffers were pretty low so I excused myself the tempting bit of flying. P.S. The Air Force spends money on these do's. Imagine those lugs taking Furies from Ireland to Scotland for personal use over the weekend at 33 gallons per hour government expense - I ask you - like a glorified yhatin yattin yahting club (call it a boating club).

Love Bill