To-day has been the most perfect day we have had out here so far. This afternoon I shot a wild duck with a Webley-Scott pistol at 50 yards. It was the 6th shot, but the others were all very close—not bad shooting, eh?
The Punches turned up alright, but much later than the other papers—all much appreciated. Best love.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
XX.
To his Mother.
No. 1 Squadron, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
23rd March, 1915.
Dearest Mum,
Another fine day, and let's hope the weather will last. The town this afternoon is crowded with small girls all in white—long skirts and veils—confirmation, I suppose.