October 15, 1944 Sunday

Somewhere in England

Dearest Honey,

After deliberately wiping my pen off with my handkerchief (I’ll probably wash it myself, and I don’t mind) I am ready to write to you again. This thin paper is a gift of battalion Hq. Hope you can read it.

Before I get into telling what has happened, let me say I have missed you a helluva a lot the last few days. My lonely walks across the countryside made me think of you, and wish we could be together. I’m a solitary old soul I guess. You’re the only person I feel that “togetherness” with. Makes all the difference to know there’s one person that takes that lonely feeling away. It makes being alone enjoyable and profitable, where it could be almost frightening and anyway, sad.

Well, I have had two days almost completely off now. Oley and I returned to that cathedral I told you of before and went thru it more slowly. We met an old fellow who knew all about it and showed us the little side chapels and the cloisters and chapter house. The cloisters are something like the “patio” affair in the Boston library. The priests do their meditating there, and it is a beautiful spot for it. The whole thing dates from 1215, I found, and contains one of the three originals of the Magna Carta. Do you remember we saw one of them in the British Pavilion at the World’s Fair? I thought the man who showed us around was a professional, and wanted to tip him. But Oley thought not, so we didn’t. I still believe he was, but was forced by the sanctity of the church to appear as a gentleman and not to solicit money.

We did our Christmas shopping, too. A few cards, a little book for the folks, and something for you. It was fun browsing thru the many silver shops for yours. We couldn’t get a lot of things for want of ration coupons. I didn’t see any books or music that seemed right. So we decided to get something from the fine silver shops. Oley got some (two) sterling silver napkin rings. What I got for you is not sterling, but is good ware. Hope you like it, Hon.

Oh, and we got in early enough to see the market place in full swing. Like booths at a fair, only selling staples and jewelry and sundries. For two pence I bought a small plate of raw [shell] crustacea (!) called a whelk. Looked like a spiral [shell] snail. It does have a shell, as you may have deduced from the cross-outs. It tasted about like clams or oysters.

Today I accomplished my mission of getting to see one on the most enigmatic structures in history. Stonehenge. I had to walk two miles to get to it. It sits out on top of a hill that dominates the country around. I think I enclose a copy of the story of it. The diagram you see won’t mean anything to you, but I located every stone indicated on it and covered the entire area in the two hours I was there. I was all alone, so I could see it the way I wanted to. At first the (the rocks) appear pretty well scrambled up, but after following it thru you can see just how it was before some of the largest rocks toppled over and spoiled the design. The rocks are large, and weather beaten to such an extent that it is hard to tell their exact original shape. Bit the large design in clear, and the joints that hold the cross pieces onto the vertical stones are ingenious. The structure is very imposing even now. Built before the age of arches, it shows how old civilization is. Not a great deal is known of the people who made the place, but it has been there over 3000 years and looks solid enough for 3000 more. Gives you a very mysterious feeling.

I’d like to write more, but it is getting past my bedtime. That gets earlier and earlier. Fresh air makes you sleepy, so I get to bed by 9 almost every night. I live you more than ever, honey. Thought about you all across the hills to Stonehenge and back, and it’s 2 miles each way from the bus station closest to it!

Every bit of my love,
Wallace

P.S. Encyclopedia Britannica probably has more readable dope on Stonehenge. The flower is from the road to Stonehenge.