No. 11 Sqdn. R.F.C.
B.E.F. France
Saturday 19/5/17.

Dear Ones All,

Oh, such a fine flock of letters reached me yesterday, one from Father, dated Apr. 26, the first one to reach me that had been addressed direct to this Squadron and then there were a lot of others under different dates, from Father, Mother, May and Fred, and a lot of enclosures, mostly quite ancient by now but all full of news to me. I have sent them back to Molly to read. It is good to hear of such a good bill of health from the family in general but I am sorry to hear that Cousin Belle is still so weak and that Cousin Dave and Cousin Mima have had such a seige of grippe.

It took me about two hours to read all my letters last night. It was after 11.00 p.m. when I got to bed and I knew I had to be up at 3.30 this morning for an early stunt but simply couldn’t stop till they were all opened and read.

A funny thing happened here this morning. A Hun scout got lost in the clouds and when he came out thought he was behind the German lines. He was just on the point of landing on our aerodrome- was only a few hundred feet up in fact- when he saw our machines on the ground. Then he opened out his engine in a hurry and tried to get away but a round dozen scout pilots from the squadron on the other side of the aerodrome had spotted him and jumped into their machines sans goggles, sans coats, and sans everything. The poor old Hun saw what he was up against when our twelve machines climbed up after him and came down just as fast as he could. He is now being entertained and no doubt carefully pumped by the scout squadron who forced him to land. It was rather a funny show.

Must close now, Dear People. Heaps of love to you all.

Yours as always,
Eric.