Dearest darling,
This will probably take a long time to reach you, but after this letter arrives, more will follow in closer sequence because I'm going to try to write every day - even if just to say hello to my sweetheart.
You have probably received my letter written about ten days ago. There wasn't much to say in it, that is, not much about my surroundings: however, this letter might be a little more interesting.
I'm censoring my own mail, so I'll have to be careful about what I say.
There's one thing I don't have to be careful about when I write, and that is my longing for you. I miss you so, darling, and the hardest thing about being here is our being apart. It's always the same, my thoughts of you, my dreams about us. They are wonderful, sweet, they seem so real that when I do get back, I'll have to convince myself it's not another dream.
Incidently, baby I haven't told you yet, where I am. It's a small place, this England and I like the people an awful lot. It's difficult to understand them at first, but one gets used to it. I rather enjoy listening to them talk They seem to talk faster and have a different system of tone control. I think it's much more musical the way they talk compared to our method of speech. I also find, from conversations with Englishmen in cafes and pubs (taverns to us), that they're not at all the stiff shirts we pictured them to be. They're regular people alright, and very generous with what little they have.
Their humor is first the way I had imagined it to be. Bob Hope slays us, but it damn near slaughters them. What I mean is, they're very easily made to laugh at what we call cracks, and tears come to their eyes and cramps to their stomach when they hear real worthy cracks. But, as I said, they're very likeable people, and easy to get along with. At least, I've found it so. And I respect them a lot for all they've gone through these five years of war.
Their money system is all screwed up. It took me quite awhile to get used to it, but I finally caught on, not too fast as of yet, but I seem to manage alright. The smallest coin is a half pence, about the same as our penny (1/2 pence = 5/6 cents), The next highest value is the pence, ad it's the largest in size, made of copper. There are 12 pence to a shilling, and this is worth about 20 cents in our money. There is a three pence coin and a six pence coin in between the shilling and the pence. The next highest coin is the two shilling piece, next the half crown or 2 1/2 shilling, next is the 10 shilling note, and next the 20 shilling note which is called the pound. The highest note is the 5 pound note worth $20.17 1/2 in our money. Anything higher than this is written like a check as high as one cares to if he has the money to back it.
Well, I hope I haven't bored you too much, honey, with all this finance. I thought you would be interested in my money problems so I first sounded off. At any rate, hon, enough of that. The weather here is cold and damp, with a drizzling rain most all the time, In fact, I've seen the sun but once since I've been here. There's no snow, and the countryside is as green as our mid-West is in the late spring. It's not as cold as our winters, but the dampness makes it extremely penetrating and quite uncomfortable to say the least. I call it good pneumonia weather, and I feel for those who suffer with rheumatism.
Another thing that is hard to get used to is the black out. When I go to town, it seems very weird not to see any lights on the streets from the windows. On nights of moonlight, it's not too bad, but on dark, wet nights, well, you've heard stories of English fog at night. I swear, you can't see a foot in front of you. I've gotten used to it, and it's not too bad after awhile. That's one of the things I have to admire these people for. They've been putting up with it for a long time. I'd sure like to visit here in peace time, it must be darn nice.
Going back to the English speech. Here are a few sayings they have that may sound odd to you. They did it to me, and you can judge for yourself. A flashlight is a "torch," a tavern is a "pub," a bicycle is a "cycle," a "rotten" is a no good person, to call a girl "cute" here is to accuse her of street walking. And you don't "wake some one up" in the morning, you "knock them up." So you see, darling, there's someone getting knocked up all the time here. This last one is the pay off. When someone says "keep your pecker up," they mean what we would meat if we said, "keep your chin up." The girls in the beginning would tell the boys to keep their peckers up, but since they've found out there's another meaning in the States, they've changed the words around a bit.
One of the fellas asked if they had a napkin in a café one day. Everyone in the place seemed to get a kick out of it. Our napkin is called a "survette" here and their "napkin" is a Kotex. You can imagine why they found something funny in that. These are some of the things in England that a Yank has to get used to. But so far, I have a feeling I'm going to like my stay here.
Darling, when you write, use air mail. It doesn't take much longer than V-mail, and you can write much easier. It's also a lot easier to read than V-mail. I'm anxiously waiting to hear from you, sweetheart. It has been a long time, in fact, the last word, by mouth or mail, was spoken in Peoria on the 21st of December. Do you remember?
I supposed you have started to write by now. That is if you have received my last letter. I sure hope so, dear, because I never wanted anything more than to have a word from you.
So much for today, Terry, until tomorrow then, so long, or as they here "cheerio."
All my love, your adoring future husband and sweetheart,
Jim
I do love you so very much!
Lt James Brown 0-811540
358th Bomb Squad
303rd Bomb Group
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