Dear Emmie

It is now 8.30.pm and I am scorching hot by just walking a few yards.  I don’t know if it is being just a little nearer the equator that makes it so hot if so I am glad that I am not right down the south of France. Are you having such weather in England. I see by this evenings paper that there has been an air raid on London I trust that you all are quite safe. There is nothing exciting happened that I might tell you about and I dare say you know more about the war than I do myself at any rate you are at least two days more up to date than I. We are still at rest which of course means occasional working parties. I wrote to one of old band boys this morning who is of low category in England he is now at Thetford in Norfolk. Some Batts out here have cut their trousers down to knickers: I wish we were doing the same. That is something to tell Hurbert Bertie. Our drum-major has some names towards a B.B. but wants about half a dozen more before attempting to start one. I am sorry that I cannot write more trusting that you are all quite well.

With Love From Will xx

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