Harold.
XI.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
20th January, 1915.
Dear Dad,
So you are home again at last. Did you get the letters I wrote to Liverpool when you were going off?
There has been very little doing here lately. Awful bobbery last night over the Yarmouth scare. We were standing by our machines until midnight. I think they [the Germans] are sure to pay us a visit soon. I hope it isn't at night, though. I flew for about half an hour this morning. The French coast was as plain as Punch.
We each have our own machines at last. Mine is the actual machine that Sippe [S. V. Sippe, D.S.O., Squadron Comdr., R.N.] had on his stunt to Friederichshafen. Our chances of getting out to the front are remoter than ever, and each of these silly raids puts us further back still. If old Rumpler [the German airman] hadn't taken it into his head to drop a bomb on Dover on Xmas day, we should in all probability have been over the other side by now.
22nd January, 1915.