R. Depot RCAF
Torquay. Devon.
Aug 25. 1945.
Dear Mother:
We came down here on the 21st and expect to be on a boat soon after the beginning of September. This is a very picturesque town, rock cliffs hills rise brokenly to about 500’ and the town is built all over this so the streets wind around in a most crazy pattern. One never knows what to expect around the next bend. Our quarters (ex-private hotels) don’t care with those at Bournemouth and are rather a steep climb from the bus stop but it is a nice change to be here. Staying in my hotel is a Doug. Wilson, son of the tennis player Mrs. Wilson you know. He is very keen on tennis also and has played in several tournaments in England. This morning I watched him play the former junior champ of Montreal but he was outclassed there. One day the two of us went to a dance at the best hotel in town and it really was quite a place with wide balconies off the ball room looking down onto the harbour, a spacious bar, formal dress. We were introduced to two girls staying there and spent the evening with them. Mine had driven down with her people from Leeds, 350 miles—so some people can get petrol. At the dance I met Lt. Charlie Craster (Vernon) who was on leave. We got to talking about the old days back in the office and it didn’t sound so good. Still there is nothing else to do. He and I went to see Henry V yesterday. This was one of the few times when I have really felt like walking out of a show and others I have talked to did just that. I couldn’t follow the story at all—part of the conversation was in French and these were just as easy to understand as the Shakespearian English.
I guess Peter isn’t very popular at home after rolling the car over. They should have got it insured when they heard he was coming home as he has rather a habit of rolling over on that road.
This afternoon I went through the famous (though I hadn’t heard of them before) Kent Caverns. I expect they were nearly half a mile long with lots of small tunnels on the way. They were truly remarkable with their age-old stalagmites of different colours and bones of prehistoric animals encased in the rock. Around the floodlights the heat has caused moss etc to start growing. I suppose the seed must have been there lying dormant for millions of years.
Love from Tony.
[Note: Transcription provided by collection donor.]
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