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Topic: Laughter (10/18/04)
TITLE: Letters to Home
By Corinne Smelker
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Somewhere in Europe
Well old boy, as things here on the European front are rather slow (pasta), I thought I’d write you a letter so you’d know what your little brother has been up to.
As you know, the censors are a tad bit sensitive about us telling our location – Jerry bombs and all that (meatballs), so I’m afraid I can’t tell you where to send a parcel. I can however tell you I am not in London!
Jerry has been bombing us pretty frequently (grappa), and there are days when I think I might grow positively deaf with the howitzers and what not blowing up around us. But, Sid, my mate says. “better deaf than dead.” (vino) So there you are then.
We had a couple of days off last week, and me and some mates went down the local watering hole (spaghetti) where we met some rather nice RN’s. Apparently they work at the makeshift hospital the army has set up to deal with the fall out from our friend Jerry’s attempts at annihilating Europe, (acqua) and particularly our part of it. We had some good laughs listening to the radio shows – what we could get with the bad reception anyway.
Oh, (Pisa) when you get a chance could you make sure Mum is still feeding Harry – my guinea pig. She promised she would, but you know Mum; she hates that thing. She would drown it as soon as look at it.
I can’t complain really. Our weather is good, better than yours at any rate, (donna) according to the radio. The army have bunked us in some older mansions, so we have lots of room to roam, (ravioli) and plenty of beds to choose from, although we all steer clear of Flatulent Fred.
Well, I know this is short, but it’s getting close to black out time (bella), I know you understand. I can’t wait for this war to be over, so we can all come home. We hear reports on the radio that things aren’t going too awfully well for our side, (linguini) but we stand firm – the British will never give up, we will never surrender. We are on God’s own side. We’ve been lucky so far, (lasagna) we have seen little action – sometimes the inactivity is worse.
If you get this letter, send a parcel on – I need tea, the stuff the army gives us is sodding awful! Also, send some biccies, the chocolate digestive ones I like so much. Tell Mum I will write to her soon, I love her. Thank God you’re not here, Jim. Keep the home fires burning for me. I will be back as soon as we run Jerry back to his fox holes. (macaroni).